Page 34 of Tormented Kings

When Mia came out, her parents laughed it off and dismissed her. They haven’t been outright homophobic about it, but they’re convinced it’s just a phase and will pass once she’s out of college and married to Declan. Oh, what an awakening they’re about to get.

It’s still crazy to think the guys are going to break off their engagements. They said it so surely, but I know it’s not going to be that easy. Nothing is in this world.

The girls bring me right to my door when we’re done, and I make sure that it’s locked and the security alarm is set before I hunker down on the couch to study with the TV playing in the background.

My mind keeps drifting to what happened earlier today. Smiling wide, I jump up and do a little happy dance and squeal before flopping back on the couch.

“Is this really my life?” I whisper. “Or is this some sick joke, and I’ll be left utterly destroyed?”

My phone dings and I sit up, grabbing it off the coffee table. My heart flutters when I see it’s from Grayson.

Grayson: Missing you like crazy, Pretty Girl. Wish you were here. You know, your room is empty and missing you. Just something to think about.

I laugh, shaking my head.

Me: I’ll keep that in mind. I miss you too.

I hit send and bite my lower lip as my body flushes with nerves.

Me: Hey, Grayson?

Grayson: Yeah, Pretty Girl?

Me: Is this for real? Us, I mean. Are we really going to be more than friends?

Grayson: It’s real for me. And I sure hope it’s real for you. I like you, Pretty Girl. So damn much. You have no idea how much it consumes me. You're it for me. I don’t want anyone else. We both went into this thinking it was going to be the arrangement and nothing more, but we both know that was just a lie we told ourselves. At least, I did. Because I was already obsessed with you before. This only solidified my feelings for you. I can’t speak for Declan, but he’s not the kind of guy to lead anyone on. If he’s in, he’s all in, too. I know it might take some time to get used to this—it’s going to be an adjustment for all of us—but I know we got this. One day at a time, Pretty Girl.

Tears sting my eyes as I chew on my lower lip, reading his text message over and over again until the doubt starts to ebbaway. If I start thinking about all the things that could go wrong, then that’s what’s going to happen. Creating problems where there are none is only going to fuck this up before it’s even started.

I know it’s hard for me to accept this, but I have to. I need to. Because I deserve this, don’t I? With all the shitty things that have happened in my life, I’m due for some good. To be happy.

Even if it’s with three guys and is not socially accepted in this society. Why do I care about what these people think about me anyway? My mom might be marrying into this world, but that doesn’t mean she agrees with their ways either. She saw what she wanted and took it, not caring what they might think about our significantly lower income and her career as a groundskeeper.

So, I’m going to take a page from my mom’s handbook and do the same. If my guys don’t care, then neither do I.

Another text message from Grayson pops up.

Grayson: Did you fall asleep on me, Pretty Girl? ;)

Me: Sorry. Just needed a moment to process what you said.

Grayson: Don’t overthink it, okay? I don’t want my girlfriend to be stressed. Get some sleep, we’ll see you tomorrow. XOXO Sweet dreams, Pretty Girl.

His girlfriend? Okay, now I’m smiling like a crazy person. I text him back, my heart doing a little dance in my chest.

Me: Night. XOXO

I go to bed with only good dreams and high hopes. But I’d be a fool to expect everything is going to be rainbows and sunshine. Nothing’s easy in life, and it sure as hell isn’t in this one.

Chapter 8

Sadie

At first, being in Collin’s class was a distraction because I saw him as this sexy, forbidden man I had the hots for. And while that’s all still very much true, now that we’ve talked about us being something more, the way he’s looking at me while the professor is teaching his lecture, it’s so much worse.

I’m trying to concentrate on my professor, I really am. But it’s like my eyes are magnets, drawn to him every few minutes. And all he’s doing is sitting there, grading papers.

His head is down, this look of concentration on his face as his eyes move along the paper. He licks his lips every so often, and all I can think about is that tongue on me, against my own..., between my legs,

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