At least until a couple of hours ago.
“Neryssa Ebirac,” her name rolls off his tongue like the prettiest of curses.
“Sounds like you’ve already made yourself more than familiar with her.” I don’t look directly at him, but I don’t have to to know that he’s smirking.
His warm breath touches the side of my face and I resist the urge to move away. If I allow Brynsyn to remain this close to me for too long, I’ll regret it later.
But if I pull away, he’ll make me regret it now.
His laughter tickles my ear before he finally pulls away from me, a soft thump moving through the room. When I look at him, he’s completely stretched out along my bed.
His arms are high above his head, crossed at the wrist. His dark shirt has risen up, revealing a slither of his tan, toned stomach. His dark hair spreads out along my sheets.
He looks at home.
“I’m not that familiar with her, yet, but I will be soon.” His tongue trails along his lips, his eyes simmering as they meet mine. “Want to help me get acquainted with her?” He raises a brow.
I swallow, the urge to bite down on the inside of my cheek strong. But Brynsyn knows all my tics, including that one, so I force myself to remain still. “I have no interest in her.” Or you, I want to tell the lie but I know better.
“Oh, really?” he drawls and when he moves his arms up higher, his shirt rises with the movement, revealing more of his stomach. “Because you definitely seemed interested in the hall earlier.”
I should have known Brynsyn was watching and any other day, I would have been aware of him the moment he entered the hall. I’m always aware of Brynsyn. But instead, I’d allowed myself to be distracted by wild purple hair and an even wilder mouth.
“We had an argument, that was all.”
“She seems to have a track record of arguing with pricks so far.” His head lolls to the side as his eyes close. I take the moment to watch his plump lips as he continues to speak. “You, Soskia, and I heard that she got into it with the lovely Prince Alik.”
The sarcasm in his words can’t be masked and my lips twitch in response.
If there’s anyone who Brynsyn believes needs to have a stick screwed out of their ass more than Soskia, it’s Alik Tudow. Despite the fact that I’ve never heard of Alik being interested in dick, Brynsyn insists that the guy’s issue is his lack of it.
No one’s ever heard that I’m interested either…
Brynsyn eyes snap open and his head tilts to the side as he catches me watching him. A slow smile spreads over his lips.
“And what about you?” I ask, trying to distract him, even as I know the air in the room is already shifting, becoming more volatile, more tense.
“What about me?” he asks.
“Did she argue with you?”
“I told you, she argued with pricks, what about that sentence implies that she’d have a beef to pick with me?” he questions.
He’s serious and I think that’s the worst part. But then again, can Brynsyn really be described as a prick?
No, arrogant asshole describes him much better.
"What are you doing here, Brynsyn?” I decide to switch the topic, not wanting to continue on this path of conversation about the little headache.
“Because I felt you, Foxy,” he says and when his eyes meet mine, the intensity has my heart beating quicker. I turn my head away, my throat going dry. “Now, tell me, are we interested in fucking her together or will you not care if I pursue her myself?” He says it so casually that it take a second for me to realize that yet again the topic has changed.
How unsurprising.
I shake my head. “Brynsyn, I don’t care what you do.”
“Now why does that sound like a pretty little lie, Foxy?” he questions as one of his fingers trails along my arm.
He’s still lounging on the bed like he owns it but now only one hand is behind his head.