King Me (King Me Duet 1)

“You have my blessing. Good luck.”

I didn’t linger for more conversation. I walked briskly out the same doors where I’d officially met Natalie for the first time with no destination in mind. From all the pictures I’d seen, it was weird to see that the sidewalks weren’t crowded at all though I’d expected it.

An hour later, I was flying back to the King residence with Connor and Royce when my phone buzzed. After landing, I glanced to find a text from Natalie, but I didn’t read it. It wasn’t until later, back at my temporary apartment, that I did.

Natalie: Can I give Christy your phone number?

As I considered my answer, a lot of thoughts went through my head. Until that moment, I hadn’t fully appreciated having my own apartment. I’d gone from Mom’s house to the barracks. When I returned home, within weeks I was here in New York.

I also hadn’t given it much consideration that I’d had my own place when Natalie came by last night because she’d felt like home. I’d started off my time in New York with her.

Christy was another matter. Maybe it was time to utilize my space to the fullest. Wasn’t that what Natalie and the love doctor would be doing this weekend? I furrowed my brow, not wanting to picture my sweet Natalie underneath another man.

There was one way to forget. I sent her a one-word text.

Me: Yes

Twenty-Three

Natalie

Gaping at the text I received from Liam wouldn’t change it. There was really no reason for my surprise. I blamed Christy’s scathing looks for why I didn’t immediately pass on the message and the number. When our shift was over, she’d disappeared. I resolved to give her his number tomorrow before my day off, assuming she wasn’t off.

By the time I made it to my rented room, I was dead on my feet. I fell back on the bed with the lights off. Ms. Allen worked mornings and was probably already asleep for the night.

I texted Jody and she was up. I video called next.

“Have you been using the face mask I gave you?” she asked.

“Are you trying to tell me I have bags under my eyes? Thanks.”

She laughed. “No, but you do look tired and a bit pale.”

“That would be the bright light from my phone so you can see me. We are not all blessed with a year-round summer tan.”

“Are you Black shaming me?” she teased.

“No. But I am jealous. This is one time I wish I’d gotten more of my bio dad’s gene’s.”

“Yep. That skin of yours is all thanks to your Nordic goddess of a mother.” Mom had gotten her blonde hair and blue eyes from her Scandinavian ancestry. I wasn’t as pale as she was. Dad’s Spanish heritage had given me some color to my skin, but not the beautiful caramel color Jody had. “You didn’t call me so we could talk 23andMe, did you?”

23andMe was a company that would give you an idea of your ancestry from a blood sample. “No. I really want you to tell me you’ve met the man of your dreams and I can finally be a maid of honor,” I said.

“Well, the asshole with a fiancé hasn’t given up.”

I perked up, rolling on my side so I could hold the phone better and get all the details. “Really. What was his excuse?”

She sighed. “He says he’s not engaged. That his father made that announcement to tie his hands.”

“What about him rushing to leave on the date?”

“He claims he saw the headlines and wanted to confront his father before he went to sleep.”

“Do you believe him?” I asked.

She ran a hand through her hair. “I don’t know what to believe. He wants to take me to a fundraiser this weekend to prove to me he’s telling the truth. One of those black-tie affairs.”

“Are you going to go?”

“Part of me doesn’t want to. I don’t want to be a pawn in whatever family drama he has.”

“And the other part?” I prodded because Jody was far more decisive than I was when it came to men.

“The other part is attracted to him. Like the kind of attraction where you know he’s bad news, but you don’t care.”

“Yep.” I popped the p when I said the word because I could so relate.

“Oh, that’s right. Mr. Bipolar Hottie. You still want him.”

Boy, did I. It was like the more he said no, the more my body said yes. “For the record, I don’t think he’s bipolar. I think he’s fighting his attraction to me.”

“Because of your dad?”

I tapped a finger on my chin, playing it out in my head. “No, I don’t think that either.”

“Please don’t tell me you’re becoming one of those psycho girls who’s reading tea leaves when they should heed the words of the man telling them they aren’t interested.”