Deviant King (Royal Elite 1)

My fingers flick over my phone. I can’t believe I smiled like a normal human being and didn’t actually lick the guys. Ozil even had an arm over my shoulder.

“Uncle will be sooo jealous when I show him these.” I absentmindedly sip from my orange juice. “I’m so going to gloat about meeting my idols.”

“Are you done?” Aiden doesn’t sound amused. He’s been in a pissy mood since he practically dragged me out of the locker room.

I peel my gaze from the phone to him. He removed his RES jacket, remaining in the white T-shirt with his cuffs rolled to his elbows. The view of his strong forearms and the tattoos gets me every time. He’s stuffing French fries in his mouth and glaring at my phone.

He doesn’t seem impressed with my enthusiasm, but I smile at him anyway. Meeting Arsenal’s players is such a geeky moment in my life. I didn’t even think it was possible unless I hoard in front of the stadium for years and hope to catch a picture.

However, with the right connections and the King last name, anything can be possible. Aiden said Arsenal’s president is a family friend. Of course, he is. Otherwise, Aiden wouldn’t have been able to waltz me right into the team’s locker room.

“Thanks for taking me there,” I say. “It made my day. No, my year!”

He grunts in response and continues shoving French fries down his throat. “Stop staring at your phone and eat. You haven’t touched your food.”

“Oookay. You sound just like Aunt.” I place my phone on the table and dive into my salad. “What are you so upset about?”

“Are you acting like you don’t know?”

“Uh… not really? You seem to have your knickers in a twist since the locker room.”

“Don’t idolise other men in front of me. I don’t like it.”

A burst of laughter slips from my throat. “Are you jealous, mighty King?”

“Damn straight I’m jealous. I’m so possessive of you, it drives me fucking crazy.”

I bite back a grin and try to stuff it with a forkful of salad. Is it so wrong that I love driving him crazy? I’m getting high on this feeling and like any junkie, I want more.

“Is that why you punched Xander and threatened Cole?”

He pauses eating, eyes squinting the slightest bit before he flashes me the devil’s threatening smile. “Do you think it’s fun to antagonise me?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Is that why you pulled that show with Nash earlier?”

“Cole and I were discussing philosophical theories.”

“Like?”

My head tilts. Cole said that Sartre’s book, Nausea, belongs to Aiden.

I still don’t think he’s the type who’d be interested in philosophy.

“Existentialism,” I say. “Ever heard of it?”

“Boring and illogical. Next?”

I play with my fork on the plate. If he thinks it’s boring and illogical, he wouldn’t have kept a copy of Nausea. I sure as hell returned mine to the library as soon as I was finished with it.

“Have you ever read any book by Jean-Paul Sartre?” I prompt.

“A few.” He’s quiet for a long time that I think he’s done talking. “My mother had a thing for French philosophers.”

What happened to her?

The question hovers at the tip of my tongue, but I doubt that he’ll answer it, and I don’t want to sound pushy, so I ask, “What else did she like?”