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)
“Yeah. Where do you plan to go with Tom after this?”
RJ glances down at Tom, who’s finishing off the last of his vodka. “If his two oldest brothers aren’t home, his place. If they are, then wherever he wants.”
“Your place?”
“No.”
“You have bed bugs?” I ask sharply. “Jars of toenails on your shelves?”
“I live where I work,” he admits, his voice hotter. “I don’t mix business and pleasure, so to speak.”
“Well, now I’m really confused because I thought for sure you were a cam boy.”
“Fuck you.”
“Not judging.”
“Yeah, right.” RJ huffs out a breath, then glances to Tom at the same time as me.
Tom is weirdly quiet, but his face flushes beet red as he witnesses this exchange between RJ and me.
RJ tucks him even closer to his side. I can’t tell if he’s just a touchy-feely guy, or if he’s trying to be territorial around me. Whatever the case, it seems like Tom is leaning against him only to avoid falling over. So that’s a plus…I guess.
“How much have you had to drink?” RJ asks him, to which Tom never responds. Not as he catches his balance and extends his arms like he’s walking a plank.
I think I’d be smiling if I weren’t so on edge.
RJ looks around for something. He sees my water and gestures for it. “Please.” He says it like he thinks I’m going to deny hydrating Tom when it’s exactly what I’ve been fucking doing.
I hand it over. Unable to speak with the knot in my throat.
“Here, Tom.” He pries the finished drink out of his grip, then gives him the water instead. He sniffs the cup. “Vodka?” he asks me.
“Correct.”
A deep, grumbled noise of concern comes out of RJ. The same sentiment is apparent in his gaze as he sweeps Tom. He makes small, comforting circles against Tom’s back.
If RJ had any ill intent, he would not look like he wants to give Tom an IV drip and let him sleep this off. He’s expressing genuine worry for someone he’s only in an on-and-off physical relationship with, and that’s messing me up.
“I’m cool,” Tom assures us in a larger swig. Then he tries to pass the water back to me.
“Finish it,” I say.
“You finish it,” he counters. “Phoenixxxx.” He hisses my name between his teeth.
Here I am, almost smiling again. “You need it more than I do.”
“Not true. So not true, dude.” He tsks a few times, then slams the bottle on the table. I grab it before it tips over, and I screw the cap back on while he says, “Ta-da!”
My lips twitch, then flatline when RJ pulls Tom into his bare chest. He extends an arm across him so he stays put. It’s something I would’ve definitely done—had I been right there. Had that been me.
“You buy him a bunch of shots?” RJ asks me—no, accuses me.
Tom points at himself.
“Looks like you have your fucking answer,” I snap at him.
RJ seems skeptical. The way he’s keeping Tom back, I can tell he’s protecting him from me. Like I’m the one who’d take advantage of a wasted Tom Cobalt.
I would rather die.
My back is so upright, my shoulders ache. I’m standing like a brick wall. “So where do you work and live?” I ask RJ.
“The Starlight on Park.”
My brows jump. “You live on Park Ave?” I know exactly where The Starlight on Park is located. In the fucking Upper East Side.
Tom is slowly processing this like we’re speaking quadrilaterals and hieroglyphics.
“The Starlight on Park is a hotel,” RJ emphasizes.
“Yeah, on Park Ave,” I bark like he’s not making sense. “No, I thought it was on Broadway. The fuck?”
RJ lets out a tight breath. “You asked, I clarified.”
“According to Tom, a rare event.”
“Whoa, whoa,” Tom lifts his hands and steps away from RJ, wobbling a little. We both reach out to catch him, but he grips the high-top himself. “Keep me out of this.”
“As if this isn’t about you, nepo baby,” I say dryly.
His lips tic up a little bit. He’s such a fucking…a growl rumbles in my chest. I shake my head once. Tom loves the attention, and I can’t deny, he looks really good in a spotlight.
RJ grips his own waist with both hands. Then nods up to me. “I don’t want drama when it comes to who I get with. So I keep things simple.”
“Drama,” I repeat with a slow nod, forcing myself not to bite out, Then what the fuck are you doing with Tom?
I know Tom by now. From our late nights to our early mornings. I know he is so quick to push buttons, stoke emotion, break dumb laws like feeding squirrels, willing to stir the pot for a little fun and a good laugh at 3 a.m. when my brain refuses to shut off and sleep. And I want to stay awake even longer just to hear him and see what happens. All the while, he is trying to clutch fastidiously to the one thing he does not want out of his control. The band.