Vicious Prince (Royal Elite 5)

“I’m kidding, Captain. Just kidding.” I give him my best smile. “So where were we? Right, my friend and the girl who cockblocked him.”

His expression doesn’t change. “Did your loser friend let her cockblock him?”

“Why are we calling him a loser?”

“You did — I’m just playing along.” His lips twitch in a smirk. “He’s your friend, after all, right?”

Dick.

“Yeah, he let her.”

“Did he at least use her mouth instead?”

“No.” And not because I didn’t want to; it was because she ran. Why the fuck did I let her run?

“We should call your friend a pussy instead of a loser.”

I feign a grin. “Is that all the advice you have?”

“She was probably jealous.”

“Right? I knew it.”

“Or she’s playing a game.”

Damn. “How do you know which is which?”

“That’s the question all philosophers ask.”

“And the answer?”

“There’s no answer, Ronan. You have to live with the fact that you won’t understand how women’s brains work.”

“So how should he react?”

He raises an eyebrow. “By not being a pussy. If you get a chance, seize it. I mean, your loser friend should seize it.”

I grab a pen from the table behind me and throw it at him to wash away his smirk, but he catches it above his head. His smirk turns into a full-blown grin.

“My information helped after all.” He twirls the pen between his index and middle finger. “Don’t you think you owe me?”

It’s my turn to smirk. “Don’t you think you owe me more? Imagine if I didn’t tell you about how she acted in front of your secret admirer.”

“Next time, when you tell me something, don’t do it when Aiden is around.”

“Why? You think he’ll change his mind?”

“Like fuck he would.”

There’s a knock on the door before it opens and Silver peeks inside. She’s different out of our school uniform. At home, she’s in a pink mini-dress that moulds to her curves and puts emphasis on her tits that Xan and I have been tricking her into showing us since we pre-pubescent.

Girls like Silver used to be my type: blonde, put together, hot as sin, and from my social standing.

Now, it seems no one is my type.

Correction — Ron Astor the Second thinks only one is his type, and there’s nothing I can do to change his mind.

“Dinner is ready.” She barely makes eye contact with Cole before focusing back on me. “Hey, Ronan. Join us.”