Playboy Princes (Royals of Arbon Academy, #2)(63)

"Agreed," Jordan murmured, still typing and scrolling at a rapid pace. "I'll see what I can do. In the meantime... Zach is going to be a bigger problem than we had prepared for."

Rafe let out a long sigh, closing his eyes. I paused in rinsing my conditioner out because I was pretty sure that was the first time I'd ever seen him show any sign of weakness. For the briefest of moments, he looked exhausted.

Sometimes I forgot who I was friends with. Jordan was the crown prince of New America, destined to rule the second most influential kingdom in the world. Rafe? Rafe quite seriously held the weight of the universe on his shoulders. When his father either abdicated or died, he would be our planet's most powerful monarch. It was no fucking wonder he was such a prickly bitch at the best of times. I wouldn't trade places with him for all the money on Earth.

"He’s not going to easily convince me to be a Society member," I said into the dead air, addressing Jordan's earlier comment. “And why would they even want that, me being an orphan and all…?” I was assuming that’s what he meant by Zach being an issue. Or maybe I was way off.

Jordan gave a small laugh, looking over at me from his palm reader display. "Babe, you were practically fucking born to be in the Society, no matter how much we'd rather you stay out of it."

Rafe scoffed a laugh of his own. "He's right. You even have an ancient royal surname, like a big old fuck you to the monarchies. The upper level members of the Society are probably frothing harder than they did the day Jordy and I joined."

That reminded me. "I was wondering how that worked," I admitted. I'd officially finished washing every damn inch of myself and hesitated a moment before tossing my modesty and insecurity out the metaphorical window. "Pass me a towel?" I shut the water off and cracked the shower door just enough to poke my hand out.

Jordan was engrossed in whatever he was doing on his palm reader, so Rafe slid off my vanity and approached with a towel in his hands. The look on his face, though? Pure evil.

"Rafe," I snapped when he stopped with it just out of my reach. "Pass me the damn towel."

The corners of his mouth tilted up, and his eyes flashed with challenge. "Come and get it, Cinderella."

Muttering curses at him, I shoved the shower door open and reached for the towel. But he pulled it out of my reach at the last second, forcing me to chase it. Naked.

"What are you doing?" I asked him in a quiet voice, grabbing at the towel and ending up pressed to his chest.

Rafe just smirked, releasing my towel and bringing his hands to my waist. His head dipped, and I gasped, my eyes darting to Jordan a split second before Rafe's mouth met mine. He kissed me long and hard, his hands sliding over my wet skin to grab my ass and I squeaked in surprise.

"Rafe," I breathed, pushing back an inch—as far as he'd let me go. "What are you doing?" I looked over to Jordan again and found him staring at us, his palm reader forgotten for the moment. His face was carefully neutral, but when his eyes took in Rafe's hand on my naked ass, his jaw clenched.

"What does it look like I'm doing?" Rafe whispered back, grabbing my earlobe between his teeth and sending shivers of pure, undiluted desire coursing through me. "I'm staking a claim." His lips caressed my neck, sucking the flesh and dragging a small, involuntary moan from me.

Dammit.

Jordan stood up abruptly, closing the display on his palm reader, then stalking out of the bathroom. The door slammed after him, and I shoved Rafe away from me.

"Why did you do that?" I demanded, scowling at him as I wrapped the towel around my naked body. I needed some form of armor, even if it was just a bath sheet.

He gave a one-shouldered shrug, swiping his thumb over his lower lip, like he was still savoring the taste of my mouth. "Knowing something in theory and seeing it with your own eyes can sometimes elicit very different responses. It was about damn time he faced reality."

I scoffed, grabbing another towel out of the vanity and rough-drying my hair. My glare fixed on him in the mirror, but he didn't look even the slightest bit remorseful.

"Oh yeah?" I pushed. "And what reality is that, exactly? That his best friend is an insensitive asshole?" Yes, I was shoving all the blame onto Rafe, despite the fact that I'd kissed him back.

Rafe chuckled, a dark, self-deprecating sound. "Oh, beautiful girl, he already knew that." He stepped closer, crowding me against the vanity and laying his hands possessively on my waist once more. "But the reality is that I want you, and I'm no longer satisfied with quick hate fucks in dark corners." His gaze met mine in the mirror, and I shuddered at the dark desire reflected back at me. "And Jordan needed to know... that you want me, too."

He dropped a light kiss to the bend of my neck, then left the bathroom.

I stood there a long time, staring at myself in the mirror and wondering how in the gods damned hell Rafe thought now was a good time to push the issue of our love triangle. Now. After the three of us had just killed the academy nurse in the middle of the night.

Not that it was an actual love triangle. That implied there was love involved, and I wasn't stupid enough to go putting my heart on the line again so soon. Not with the two biggest playboy princes in the whole academy. No way.





Chapter 27