King Hunt (Boys of Brisley 1)

Chapter Twenty-Three:

Dudes These Days

Sterling

I’d always hated unexpectedvisitors. They acted like showing up unannounced was some sort of a welcome surprise when really, it lacked respect for a person’s time and privacy. I wasn’t prepared for a knock on the door at nine o’clock at night, nor was I prepared for who was standing on the other side of it.

Anna.

The traitor.

The heartless creature who’d seen me at my lowest and kicked me when I was down.

One reason among many that I wasn’t allowing myself to fully let Zeppelin in, despite the undeniable, overwhelming feelings for her that had reared their ugly heads when she’d named that stuffed penguin Donkey and held it like it was precious.

“I shipped your things back to you years ago,” I said coldly. “Did I forget something, or is this an unhappy accident?”

She rolled her eyes, her beautifully brown, hooded, made-up, fuck-me eyes, and pushed her equally brown hair off her shoulder. “I didn’t come to fight with you, Sterling. I came to make nice.”

“Very funny. Don’t trip on your way down the steps, the spotlights are out.” I stepped back to close the door, but her manicured nails scratched the wood as she reached out to stop me.

“What are you afraid of? That you might actually forgive me?”

As if that would ever happen. “No, but I was just about to eat dinner. It’s been a long day.”

“Perfect,” she said cheerfully. “I’ll eat with you.”

Not one part of me wanted that, but I was running out of ways to tell her to leave without being a complete asshole. “There isn’t enough for two.”

“There is actually,” Zeppelin’s voice rang out behind me seconds before she came into view in her baggy flannel pajama pants and faded Disney t-shirt. “Charlie and I are already done eating, the rest is free game. Hi, I’m Zeppelin.” She held out her smaller hand and shook Anna’s, then looked past her near the door. “There they are. I told you to stop wearing my Crocs, Silver.” She shook her head at me, messy bun flopping around to mock me further as she slipped them on. “Dudes these days. Enjoy.”

She waved without turning toward us again, and Anna stared at her like she was a martian. “Really? Her? And Crocs, Sterling?”

I stood up a little straighter, torn between horror that someone saw those fucking Crocs and pride that Zeppelin looked more beautiful in her ratty old pajamas than Anna did fully dressed up. “Who, Zeppelin? No. It’s not like that, she’s too good for me. I’ve tried more than once.”

Anna snickered sarcastically and walked past me. “Yeah, right. The day a woman isn’t enamored with you is the day I switch my heels for those monstrosities. What’s for dinner?”

“I’m sure Mariano’s has something decent,” I quipped. “You could go there instead of insulting the woman taking care of my father.”

“Oh, touchy,” Anna held up her hands in mock surrender. “Got it, don’t insult the help. Stop being so uptight. We used to have a great thing, honey. I’ve already apologized for everything.”

I had half a mind to physically throw her out of my fucking house for the way she’d just spoken about Zeppelin and the insinuation that the apology she’d given me would ever be sufficient, but I knew her. The fastest way to get rid of her was to humor her, so that’s what I’d do.

For now.

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Zeppelin

I’D REGRETTED NOT ASKINGthat woman’s name the second I started up the stairs, but there was no going back. Plus, I really didn’t need to, I knew that was his ex. She was one of the most gorgeous women I’d ever seen, of course she was someone Sterling Bishop dated.

I entered Charlie’s room to help with his nightly routine, and one look at me had a million questions written on his face. “Who was at the door?”

“Heard that, huh? Some model. Brown hair, perfect make-up, heels with a designer bag in tow. She sound familiar?”

“Ahh, yes. Anna Pope. You should be prepared to clean up b-broken glass. They don’t exactly get along anymore.” He swung his legs over the side of the bed so I could swap out his cotton socks for compression ones. “For good reason.”

“I know it’s not my place to ask, but what can you tell me about her? She obviously hates Crocs and comfortable fashion.”