Nice Guys Finish Last
Cason
“I hear they’re expecting a wedding next week.” I don’t want to say it. It’s the last thing I want to talk about.
It drives me insane that I can’t keep my thoughts to myself when I’m around her.
Princess Wren slips her feet into her boots as she gets ready to leave. The three of us snuck up her balcony just in time to catch her getting ready to leave.
I have the shittiest timing.
A frown pulls at her lips and I hate it. I hate that I just did that to her.
“Sorry.”
“It’s not your fault.” Her assurance sounds weak though, her thoughts seem to be miles away.
“You can’t fucking go, Cormac.”
Cohen’s always stern voice drifts through the room, his tone becoming low as he argues with Cormac on the balcony. Their conversation is quiet, the doors left open, as if they have nothing to hide.
They don’t. Wrenley knows everything about us. Our secrets are now hers to keep.
Cormac wants to attend Wren’s wedding. He said it just like that. As if he was just another guest. As if he wouldn’t try to murder a certain redheaded groom just before their vows.
Cohen won’t allow it.
That’s what the two of them do. Cohen lectures Cormac like a disappointed parent and Cormac rebels like a disobedient child.
And I just shut the hell up and let them bicker.
I wouldn’t be surprised if Cormac did secretly attend the wedding.
I take a seat at Wren’s side, the soft mattress pulling her closer to me.
My weight shifts as I turn to her, my arms run up her back as my palms settle against her small shoulders. She’s tiny. I love it.
I rub the tense muscles there and she melds into my touch, her eyes fluttering closed.
“Thanks.”
“Happy to do it.”
God, I’m probably too happy to do it.
Her skin’s smooth against my rough touch. I can feel the tension falling from her. A euphoric feeling swirls within my chest all because I’m helping her. Even if it is the smallest amount of help I can offer her.
She leans back until her back is flat against my chest and my hands slip around her thin waist.
She should eat more.
“You okay?” I ask in a quiet voice, my head leaning against hers.
Her hair shakes beneath my cheek as she shakes her head no.
My heart breaks in two, it shatters just knowing there’s absolutely nothing I can do to help her.
“I have to go, Ledian asked me to have a drink with him before I leave this week.”
“You like him?” I hate that I asked that. It’s none of my business.
“Yeah, he’s helping us. He’s nice.”
I nod. If our lives were different it might matter. It might matter that I care about the same woman as another man. Wrenley’s different. I couldn’t stay away from her if I tried.
If she trusts him then I trust him.
***
He brought her home drunk. The bastard.
Ledian snuck off into the night, didn’t even make sure she made it to her room okay. He’s careless and reckless, not at all the caring person Wren seems to think he is. I’m happy I came by tonight when I did.
The soft blankets fist in my hands as I pull the covers up to her chin.
“Cason.” My name’s breathy on her lips, stopping me in my tracks.
“Yeah, Princess?” I sit at the edge of the bed in case she needs me closer.
“Can you get me a glass of water?” Her voice is scratchy with emphasis of the much needed water.
“Yeah. Of course.” With a loud thumping sound, I stumble through her room in the darkness, not wanting to hurt her eyes with a mere candle light. I pour her water and come back to her in an instant.
She sits up unsteadily on an elbow and chugs it all down in one gulp.
That’s not the best idea with nothing but alcohol in her belly …
“Can I have some more?”
My brows crease but once again I stand and fetch her another full glass of water. The pitcher’s empty when I set it back down on the table with minimal noise. I trip on one of her boots, sloshing the water over the brim of the glass and do my best to soak up the mess with the hem of my shirt before returning back to her.
Again she drinks it quickly, making me feel queasy just thinking about the way her stomach must be turning with liquid right now.
She closes her eyes for a moment, the glass still held in her small hand. White moonlight bathes her smooth creamy skin. Soft black hair frames her angelic face.
God, she’s beautiful.
“One more.”
I cock a brow at her.
“The thing is, there is no more, Wren. Lie down. You’ll feel better.”
“My throat’s just so dry, Cason.” Her full lips form the most perfect pout I’ve ever seen. Her fingers lace through mine, her touch tingling across my skin. “Will you run to the well and get me just a little more?” My eyes search the darkness, considering how far out the well is.
Fuck, is she serious right now?
“Please. I need a drink and I want you close tonight Say you’ll stay with me tonight? Please, Cason.” My name breathy on her lips seals it. It’s a done deal. The fucking well could be on another continent and I’d be packing my bags to row across the ocean just to get this woman a third fucking glass of water.
“Yeah, of course.” I’m nodding like an idiot but I can’t stop.
I lean down and place a kiss to her temple and just as I’m about to turn away, she sits up and wraps her arms around my shoulders. Her lips press sloppily against mine and she hums a sound that sounds suspiciously like a moan.
Without hesitating, my fingers skim down her sides, clenching onto her thin waist. My heart pounds against hers. She pulls back, but her glittering eyes hold mine as she stares up at me, less than an inch separating us.
“Hurry back,” she says in a rasping voice.
My mouth opens but not a single thought rolls around in my mind.
Once again, I nod adamantly before jogging to the balcony and swinging my leg over the edge. I’m almost halfway down when I realize I forgot the pitcher.
I huff a sigh of annoyance and drag my ass back up the thin lattice that’s groaning to support my weight. As I make my way to the well with the pitcher, it dawns on me I’ll have to somehow make it back up the lattice with a pitcher of water …
Fucking woman and her drunken lust.
Thirty minutes later, my shirts soaked and I’m bringing her what is probably only a quarter of a cup of water.
I pour it quickly into her glass, set it on her bedside table, kick off my pants and slip beneath the inviting blankets.
The darkness of the night surrounds us. Her heavy snores are the only thanks I receive.
My head falls back tiredly against the over-stuffed pillow.
I cannot believe I just did all that for a woman.
She turns from her back, coiling into me, her hand slipping against my lower stomach as she latches on to me. Her head rests peacefully in the nook of my arm. Warmth seeps into me as I wrap my arm around her. She fits perfectly against my body.
It might have been worth it.