More Than Hate You (More Than Words)

Rolling my suitcase behind me, I grab the Indian food off the hall table and open the front door, just in time to see Shane toss back his head dramatically for his big finish.

And there goes my appetite.

As I exit the building, I trash my untouched dinner, walk away from the complex, and dial Sloan. Maybe I can make this shit work to my advantage…

“Sebastian? Whatever it is, couldn’t it wait until morning?”

“I walked into the apartment to the unwelcome sight of Shane with three hookers, whiskey, and cocaine. They’re planning to spend the night in my bed.”

“Ugh. That son of a bitch.”

“You’re being polite. I’m walking around downtown with a suitcase and a scowl. That’s not earning me any sideways glances at all.”

Sloan heaves a long sigh. “I’ll find you a hotel.”

“They won’t feed me.”

“And you think I will?”

“If you want me to work, yes. And I’m a princess, remember? I won’t survive if you leave me to starve.”

She groans. “Fine. You can stay with me until Friday. But if you’re the kind of royalty who can feel a pea under ten mattresses, I don’t want to hear about it.”

“I’ll keep my whining to a minimum.”

She hesitates, then she sighs in surrender. “I’ll be there in ten. Where exactly are you now?”

I give her the closest cross streets, eyeing some people loitering a few blocks down who look less than lawful.

“How did you get there?”

“I must have wandered farther from the building than I thought.”

“In that case, I’ll be there in five. Don’t make any new friends.”

She hangs up, and I pocket my phone. Waiting even a few seconds gives me time to think about my options and the choice I shouldn’t make…but I already have. I’m forming a plan even now. Shane inadvertently helped me out tonight with his BS, and Evan should appreciate my innovative approach to this crisis…eventually. Sloan? She’ll be furious. And since I know she gives as good as she gets, I’ll have to stay one step ahead.

But she’ll be worth it.

All I need to do is wait for the right time.

I’d ask if your balls are bigger than your brains, Shaw, but I already know the answer, Nia drawls in my head.

This may be the ballsiest thing I’ve ever done—and that’s saying something. If I play my hand right, though, I’ll win big.

Sloan pulls up a few minutes later and stops at the curb, ignoring the honking people behind her long enough for me to climb in. The second I shut the passenger door, she floors it and sends me an unblinking stare. “Three hookers at once?”

I shrug. “I don’t know what Shane’s plans were precisely, but apparently me hearing his oral pleasure over the phone wasn’t enough. He thought I needed to see it, too.”

Sloan wrinkles her nose. “I won’t ask if you’re serious.”

“He’s such a peach, you should know better. Have you already eaten?”

She shook her head. “I was too tired to cook and too tired to go out.”

“If you’ve got food in your fridge, I’ll cook as a thank you for rescuing me. See, princesses really do need their knights in shining armor.”

“Ha ha. I’m taking you up on that.” She turns my way with a frown. “Wait. Can you cook?”