Lover (Court University 4)

I wet my lips. “Here’s not the place. Nor the time.”

“Well, where and when is?”

“How about when you’re not about to go on your honeymoon.” To another guy. I shook my head. “We’re not doing this. We won’t do this.”

She needed to let me go too, in more than one way. This was our last dance, and we shouldn’t do this, ruin it.

Her fingers worked in my hand, her head, ultimately, laying on my chest. The fucker threatened to beat out of his cage she was so close.

This is the last dance.

December gave up the topic of discussion, but that didn’t mean she wanted to. I think she too knew this was it. It wasn’t the time for fighting. This was her day, a happy day. We let everything go on that dance floor, just drifting into the motions of the dance. We were two friends with a shared past that resulted in two different futures.

“Plan on giving me back my wife any time soon, Mallick?”

She’d obviously found hers, my eyes rolling when I faced her husband. A scowl in a five-thousand-dollar suit.

That was Royal Prinze.

The guy had a face that animators typically reserved for Disney princes. But considering the number of smiles (or lack thereof) the guy allotted over his lifetime, I had a feeling his particular good looks landed him more on the Disney villain spectrum. He was a celebration of a thousand glares and had a healthy amount of those reserved for me over the years.

Truth, we put our beef away long ago, but the guy seriously made it too easy to get a rise out of him. It was almost a game. What could I say to get Royal Prinze to scowl at me?

“Relax, Prinze.” I swung December away, sashaying to the beat with a grin. “You’ve had her all night, and the song’s not quite over.”

Turned out, it wasn’t much.

His scowl deepened, and I even gave myself ten bonus points for the eye tick. It always hit his left, a hard squint before he cuffed December’s arm. He eased her over. “Considering she’s my wife, that’s justified,” he growled. His finger shot out. “And don’t think I’ve forgotten about that shit you pulled in Miami.”

I may or may not have participated in a coup to keep himself and his groomsmen busy the night of December’s bachelorette party. I will say, though, I had nothing to do with the fact that there’d be strippers there… I just happened to know about them. Anyway, that was water under the bridge, and he’d gotten over it—obviously. The fact that I was still alive and standing there now told me that.

Unbuttoning my jacket, I stamped hands on waist. “Don’t act like you’re still mad about that.”

Because he wasn’t, not by a long shot. Again, if he was, I wouldn’t be standing here tonight, let alone December’s man of honor. The two of us just liked to handle each other, and he even secretly liked me.

He’d even told me once.

Really, I should have recorded that shit, because I’d never hear it again. A snarl formed on Prinze’s lips before he took his new wife’s hand. December, of course, rolled her eyes at both of us. She was used to the caveman shit, and odds were, we’d bicker for the rest of our days. Sometimes, two people were just always meant to be rivals. The common link was that we both passionately cared about the woman between us. He’d won, and the only satisfaction I did have was that he’d love her as fiercely as I knew she deserved to be loved. He’d be there for her.

He’d treat her well.

He will.

My mantra as I allowed my moment to become his. Kissing the back of her hand, he asked if she was ready to go. I guess his three best men had gotten their car ready for them. Knight, LJ, and Jax were his ride-or-dies, still closer than shit. Even after high school. There were some bonds that never broke, some people who stayed close instead of pushing others away. These people grew together. They didn’t get lost on the outside even with miles apart for some of them. They had their shit together.

“Arizona?”

December’s hypnotic eyes landed on me, letting me in on her world. She didn’t forget about me and probably never would. That just made all this so much harder. I wanted her to let go, to forget.

To let me forget.

She remained my ride-or-die, always in my corner. The issue was, she’d grown where I hadn’t. She moved on. She loved.

Prinze was behind her. She told him she’d be just a second, smiling at me. She’d called me the name we both called each other since we met in Arizona.

“‘Zona.” I shortened the name for her, always my Arizona. Taking her hand, I gave her a hug, and from behind her, Prinze let his entire demeanor slip. Something of a smile touched his eyes before he eyed away and pretended to talk to someone else on the dance floor. I said this guy allotted only so many smiles.

I suppose he spared one for me.