Masterson

ELIZABETH

I'M ON THE PHONE TALKING to Sloan, with my feet propped up on a pillow, eating a bowl of microwave popcorn and sipping on a glass of ice-cold sweet tea that Juliette made. My brain is completely fried, so I've decided to stop working on my database for the rest of the night and catch up with my bestie instead.

"He's cock blocking and I want to know why hooker!" Sloan asks with an accusatory tone.

It's been over a week since we all went out to The Lotus, and Roman has been by the house every single day keeping an eye on me (I assume), but acting like a Grade A asshole in the process. He's been meeting with Joseph about whatever it is they talk about with the door closed. Eating a scrumptious dinner prepared by Juliette every night. Working out like a maniac in the home gym (I spied on him once or twice). Never once coming by my room to say hello or bothering to ask me if I wanted a little dinner (selfish bastard). Not talking to me at all. All because I'm the one with the level head. The one who stopped things before they went too far. If I had listened to him and left Jagger alone that night, he would have thought that I was cosigning whatever this was going on between us. And I'm not. I can't.

While I usually tell Sloan everything, I have conveniently omitted all details in regards to how I've been allowing Roman to feel me up every chance he gets. If she told me something like that about her cousin, I'd probably send her to a shrink. There's just no excuse.

There are millions of single men out there. Why on earth do I have to be so attracted to a man whom I'm related to? Why does he have to be so incredibly sexy? Why does his smart mouth turn me on? Why does he know how to work my body into a frenzy like no one else? Why does he make me feel completely safe when I'm with him? In fact it's just dawned on me that I haven't once thought about my assault since he's been around.

Why do I miss him?

"I don't know what you're talking about," I lie through my teeth. And the Oscar goes to...

"I have eyes, Bitsy. It's obvious that tall, dark, and badass doesn't want you hooking up with Jagger. He was cock blocking all night. The question is why."

"I don't know. Overprotective cousin. What do you think?" I'm so comical right now. Acting as if I don't have a clue. "You're the expert."

I'm sure she's nodding her head in agreement. "Usually I can call these things, but I'm not sure about your cousin. He's tough to read. Maybe he wants to make sure you stay single, so he can continue to make fun of your life of celibacy and coding. He can't keep up the jokes if you don't remain the nerdy little cousin he buried up to her eyeballs in dirt."

I cringe at her assessment.

"First of all, I wasn't a nerd. I was a six year old. And secondly, it's actually YOU who makes fun of my life of celibacy. Speaking of which, I don't know what the big deal is about me not having sex right now. It's not like I'm a virgin or a nun. I'm just selective."

"Well you might as well be a virgin. You're almost twenty-four-years-old and you've had sex with two freakin' guys. Not to mention that you got your head cracked open the minute after you finished having half-ass sex with the second one. That shit shouldn't even count."

She's kind of right ... the bitch.

"Plus, I think it changes the narrative if you actually start dating a hot guy. Arguably a guy who is way the hell hotter than Roman. How's he going to make fun of you then? How's he going to play big brother and drag you all over the city like he has been if you're busy with Jagger all the time. It's so obvious that he wants to be the only one getting laid, and of course he also wants to be the center of attention."