Series: Cobalt Empire Series by Krista Ritchie
Total pages in book: 220
Estimated words: 215301 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1077(@200wpm)___ 861(@250wpm)___ 718(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 215301 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1077(@200wpm)___ 861(@250wpm)___ 718(@300wpm)
Valid.
My phone vibrates in the briefest second of quiet. Beckett sees me silence my phone without checking the screen.
“Is it that one guy?” he asks.
“What guy?” I’m panicked. Internally freaking out.
Beckett has a what the fuck face, so I know this is an external shitshow. I am the shitshow. “RJ—the guy you’re sleeping with. The one you won’t bring around me or Charlie.”
“No, dude.” What is everyone’s obsession with me and RJ tonight? “And I don’t bring anyone I’ve slept with around you.”
“Isn’t he the only guy you’ve slept with?” Beckett asks.
My ears are ringing. My head spinning. I’m starting to realize I’ve told my brothers way too much about my sex life. “Anal, yeah. Okay. But I meant hookups that went far, just not that far.”
“Sorry,” he apologizes sincerely.
“It’s fine. You’re straight. You probably don’t think of oral sex as sex.”
“I do think of oral sex as sex,” Beckett says casually. “Just not sleeping with someone.” Also valid.
All of my older brothers bring girls to the apartment for casual sex. Eliot has a habit of choosing stage-five clingers who make themselves too comfortable the morning after. One girl tried to do our laundry. After he just met her.
Beckett dates the exact opposite girls. Almost all have attachment issues, which he prefers because he is anti-relationships.
Then there’s Charlie.
Most of his hookups come and go like shadows.
I’ve never really nailed down his type. My oldest brother is an enigma to more than just the public. Eliot thinks Charlie would date any girl off the street—but I don’t agree. If he wasn’t looking for something specific, I’d think Charlie would have a girlfriend by now.
“About RJ,” Beckett resurfaces, and I restrain the urge to slump down with a groan, especially as he says, “You do remember that I know him, right?”
“Uh, yeah, aware.” RJ has a cousin who’s a ballerina with NYBC. The reminder that Beckett might know more about my casual hookup feels like being dunk-tanked, but I haven’t wanted to pick my brother’s brain about him. I want RJ to tell me about himself—is that really too much to ask? I sit more upright. “But you’re not friends with RJ.”
“Right,” Beckett says. “But I am friends with his cousin.”
“Roxanne Ruiz.” I name her so he recognizes my memory isn’t hot garbage. “I know.”
Charlie is staring at me funny. It’s almost like he wants to ask me something. Oh fuck, is he searching for information from me? I’ve awaited the day when the knower of too many things comes to gorgeous, harmonic me for a nugget of wisdom.
I gesture to him. “I know her very well if you want intel.” Like the color of her hair.
Brown. Curly. She’s short, right?
I wish Pink Noir wasn’t so dark. I’ve met Roxanne a handful of times at this nightclub where all of Beckett’s friends congregate after performances and rehearsals. I always thought RJ would show up, but I never ran into him when she was there.
“Intel,” Charlie repeats. “Because I’m waiting with bated breath for what little you know about a girl who means nothing to me.”
“You have a very curious glimmer in your eye.” I lean forward to point it out. “Right there.” He swats my hand away from him.
Beckett sends Charlie one indecipherable look, and Charlie works his jaw before staring too hard at the opened pages of his novel.
Charlie made a promise to Beckett a long time ago that he wouldn’t try to get with anyone from the ballet. Which obviously includes Roxanne.
My phone buzzes on the couch. Leo. Leo is also from Beckett’s place of work, but nothing is literally happening. Nothing.
This is absolutely totally fucking nothing.
“Tom.” Beckett trains a concerned yet calm expression on me. “If you really want a relationship, RJ is not the one. He’s a fuckboy.”
My stomach knots. “Yeah, I know. I’m aware.” I drag a hand across my face. “I doubt he would’ve slept with me had he known I was a virgin.”
Charlie tilts his head too far to the left.
Beckett blinks, then raises his hands in shock. He ends up steepling his fingers beneath his nose. “You didn’t tell him you were a virgin before you had anal sex?”
“I wanted to do it,” I defend. “I’d backed out with my other hookup about ten fucking times, and it just felt right. So yeah, I didn’t tell him because it’s my body, dude, and who the fuck cares if it was my first time or not? He didn’t ask me.”
Charlie starts laughing.
I slump backward hard. “I’m glad you find my sex life so amusing.”
“You flood the rivers you drown in. I can’t feel sorry for you.”
“I’m not asking for your pity.”
Beckett holds out a hand in the air like he’s trying to subdue the tension. “Tu vas bien?” You’re okay?
“Oui, oui.” Yes, yes. Without thinking, I kick my feet back on the table, avoiding the phone in my fist and this conversation. “Why don’t we ask Charlie about the girl he brought to the apartment last weekend? She lasted like an hour here.” I turn on him. “What gives?”