Page 147 of My Dark Prince
Ollie vB:You dragged Dallas kicking and screaming and all but locked her away. Your whole relationship is one big Stockholm syndrome, my guy.
Romeo Costa:We’re a different genre.
Ollie vB:DIFFERENT GENRE?
Romeo Costa:Yes. I’m not a fuckboy, like you. I’m an emotionally damaged, dark alpha hero, who just needed a little guidance to fall in love.
Zach Sun:Someone dipped into his wife’s smut collection after hearing her rave about Briar’s smut-reading ex. Exactly how jealous were you?
Romeo Costa:Enough to crack open a spine … of a custom-bound Wattpad novel. Do you know what the kids are reading these days?
Romeo Costa:Never mind. Back to the fuckboy.
Ollie vB:First of all, I’m a fuckMAN, thank you very much.
Ollie vB:Second of all, the only guidance you need is a map to the nearest prison. You kidnapped that girl.
Romeo Costa:Well, she seems content enough to stay, and we’re even working on a second kid, so …
Ollie vB:Gross.
Zach Sun:@OllievB, what are you planning with the New York Times?
Ollie vB:Oh, you’ll just have to wait and see.
Chapter Sixty-Four
Briar
Hell hath no fury like a woman caught riding her archenemy’s finger like a cowgirl strapped to the world’s largest bull.
I decided to process the encounter the healthiest way I could – by spending the next few days avoiding Oliver as much as possible. With a mansion so huge and a packed tourist schedule, I breezed by with only a few glances here and there.
I accompanied my friends to the Smithsonian, the Library of Congress, and the National mall. It wasn’t lost on me that I showed them around like a host, as if this had become my home in just a few short weeks.
The girls and I bar-hopped every reputable hot spot that served fancy mimosas, did a scavenger hunt at Lost City Books, and sampled every foodie spot in Shaw. And yet, I found myself hoping to catch him, peering over my shoulder often to search for signs of him, even when I knew he had no business in D.C.
Oliver wanted to give me some space. To hang out with my friends. Or maybe he was just fed up with my antics and appreciated the time off from babysitting me. Either way, my hopes that he would cash in on my commitment to being screwed by him crashed and burned.
He didn’t seek me out.
I tried not to let it bother me too much, but it did.
It was all I could think of, even as Iwantedto stay mad at him, especially because he’d cheated on me, and cheaters never changed.
By the time Monday morning came and my friends left, I sagged into the couch, exhausted and relieved. I craved normalcy, though I had no idea what it might look like in this strange place.
Ollie vB:I’ll bring back takeout for dinner. What do you want?
Briar Auer:Carbonara udon at Perry’s. No meat, please and thank you.
All the way in D.C. That would give me a solid six or seven hours to chill with Seb. Lately, I visited him every day after everyone went to bed. He didn’t want me there until one in the morning, an hour shy of his nightly rowing sessions on the lake. The dude’s paranoia would put Howard Hughes to shame.
“The last thing I want is my brother thinking I’m making progress and shoving therapy and socializing down my throat,” Seb had grumbled one time.
I respected that.
My phone buzzed again.
