Twisted Palace (The Royals #3)

I press harder on the gas.

The country club gates never looked so welcoming. When I pull up, the valet’s so bored by the lack of traffic, he’s almost sleeping. At the slamming of my car door, he jerks to his feet and runs over to help Jordan out. She must be giving him a good view of her crotch given the way his eyes bulge out of his face.

When we walk inside, the front table is abandoned.

“I can’t believe no one’s here to give me my chips,” Jordan exclaims.

Before she can make a scene, I reach over the table, find a box and pull two sacks of chips out. Shoving them into her hands, I say, “Here.”

Then I push her, none too gently, toward the casino doors. Heads turn as she enters, which is probably just what she intended, because her shoulders straighten and her face gets this weird satisfied expression.

My eyes scan the room looking for Ella. I spot her laughing in the far corner as Wade whispers something in her ear. Two other football players, McDonald Samson and Greg Angelis, hover to her left. Despite my designated role as Jordan’s date, the gravitational pull to be next to Ella is irresistible.

I leave Jordan standing at the entrance, basking in the attention of her classmates, to join the most beautiful girl in the room. The moment Ella sees me, she breaks away from the group, a smile filling her entire face.

I feel better already.

“Am I imagining things or can I see Jordan’s tits in that dress?” Greg squints toward my date.

“Why don’t you go check it out up close?” I suggest, sliding an arm around Ella’s waist. It’d be nice if everyone would go the hell away so I could be alone with my girl. I only have so much freedom left and I don’t want to spend it with anyone but Ella and my brothers.

I drop a light kiss on her lips. Anything more heated and I’m bound to drag her off to the nearest dark corner, lift that pretty skirt of hers, and do at least six of the million dirty things that run through my mind every time I touch her.

“Aren’t you supposed to be Jordan’s date?” Ella says.

“Don’t remind me. I brought her, didn’t I?” But as I look into my girlfriend’s stubborn face, I realize I’m not going to weasel out of this at all.

Wade gives me a sympathetic look. “How about we go play poker?”

With relief, I take him up on the offer. “That I can do.”

Before we can find an empty table, Rachel Cohen—Wade’s mid-day fuck buddy—comes by, decked out in a slinky red dress with cutouts at the side. “Wade, sweetie! I’ve missed you!” The pretty brunette flips his tie with her finger and smiles devilishly. “You want to find a quiet place to, um, catch up?”

And we all watch with astonishment as the guy who never says no stares down at his feet. Awkwardly, he shifts from one foot to the other as he struggles to find some way to let this poor girl down easy. “I can’t right now, honey. I’m about to play some poker.”

“Aw, okay. We can meet up later, then?” Rachel is apparently a dim bulb and doesn’t catch the signal.

Wade casts a silent plea for help in our direction.

Only Ella responds. “Oh, Rachel, I think I see Easton struggling with his cards.”

The brunette perks up. “Really? I was with him earlier and he said he didn’t need any help.”

“He’s embarrassed. Tell him that I sent you.” Ella pats Rachel on the back.

“Okay,” the girl says happily. She takes a couple of steps and then turns back. “If you want to join us later, I’m cool with that. See ya, Wade.”

We wait for a few seconds before turning on my buddy.

“Seriously?” McDonald exclaims. “That chick just threw herself at you and you said no? You lose your balls or something?”

Wade scowls. “No. I just wasn’t in the mood.”

“Dude, you’re always in the mood,” McDonald says.

Greg and I nod in agreement, but Ella is smiling broadly at Wade, as if she knows something we don’t. I guess it’s about Val? I kind of figured Wade was over that already, though.

“Fuck. Whatever.” Wade grabs Ella’s arm. “Baby, I’m your date tonight and I’m not abandoning you.” He drags Ella toward a nearby table, calling over his shoulder, “You losers coming or what?”



* * *



“I’m out,” I tell Wade a bit later as I lose the last of my chips at one of the poker tables.

He frowns. “You only played a hundred bucks.”

“I gave the rest to Jordan.”

He grunts. “Is it worth it? Being shackled to her all night?”

“Who’s shackled? I haven’t seen her in an hour.”