Deserve Read Free Page A

poet. I’m sure she wrote a goddamn epic about my performance. Ode to
Sean’s magnificent co—”
    “Stop!” He groans theatrically. “Please don’t introduce
whoever you’re dating to my baby sister. I don’t want her to be corrupted.”
    “You’re just jealous.” I keep my tone light, but after
tonight’s episode with the blonde, I have to agree with him. I always thought I
respected women, but recently the women were interchangeable and the sex was
mechanical. I really need to get my shit together or I’d turn into my bastard
of a father.
    He snorts again. “Listen, can you do me a favor and pretend
that it’s your idea to pick her up and show her around?”
    “Afraid she’ll kick your ass?” The cab pulls up to my
building and I pay the driver. I walk through the front door and exhale in
relief as the air conditioning hits my skin. With a wave to the guard, I enter
the elevator.
    “Or worse, she’ll pull her stubborn shit and change her
flight without letting me know.”
    The thought of his little sister pulling a fast one on the
ex-Ranger makes me smirk. “Fine. I’ll call her to congratulate her and then
arrange everything.”
    “It’s not that I don’t think she can take care of herself,
but I worry about her in a new city.”
    “I get it, man. Leave it to me. At the end of the call,
she’d think she was the one who came up with the idea.” Bullshitting
people is not only in my DNA, but after years of being in the public
eye, I’ve honed the skill to a fine art.
    “Thanks—”
    “Don’t fucking say you owe me one,” I interject before he
can get all mushy on me. “And let me know when your transfer comes through.
I’ll come up with a few plans to help you get some pussy. God knows you need
all the help you can get.” Cael has no problem
getting women. They love his tough-guy exterior, but his challenge is maintaining
a relationship for longer than a few months.
    “Fuck off!”
    I’m still laughing when he hangs up. Closing my front door
behind me, I fling my jacket over the arm of the sofa and head to the kitchen.
I grab a beer and take a long draw, savoring the cold brew going down my
gullet. I contemplate my cavernous open-plan apartment. Before I moved in, I
had a professional designer update the décor to my specifications, but it still
never quite felt like home.
    “Even if the fucker moved in, I probably wouldn’t notice he
was here.”
    Clicking on the TV, I let the news play in the background as
I let my mind wander. It would be nice to have the Cael in the same city. Maggie, too.
    Nobody could have guessed that Cael and I would end up being friends. I was a privileged rich brat rebelling
against his father by refusing to go to the Ivy League school attended by
generations of Rowans. He was a poor kid from Chicago who could only afford to
attend college because of a football scholarship. Away from my dad’s watchful
eye, I was hungry to test the limits of my newfound freedom, attending every
party on and off campus. Cael was an antisocial,
brooding bastard who radiated “fuck off” vibes.
    To this day, he still doesn’t understand why I made such an
effort to be friends with him. While others gave him a wide berth, I ignored
his dark moods and dragged him with me everywhere. He never became the life of
the party, but over time he learned to loosen up.
    The reason for our friendship was never a mystery to me.
    Growing up as the only son of a U.S. Senator, I was
surrounded by people who always had an agenda. Everything was about politics
and everyone was jockeying for power and wealth. Sincerity and authenticity
were rare commodities in my world. Early on, I learned to never trust anybody.
Not even my own father.
    Cael Jackson, on the other hand,
was blunt and unfiltered. He had zero tolerance for bullshit. If he didn’t like
you, he wasn’t going to pretend he did. His honesty was admirable, but also
appallingly harsh. From day one, I knew this was a man I could