14. Travis

FOURTEEN

PENT-UP SEXUAL FRUSTRATION. There was nothing like it.

The second Caleb left the apartment last night, my dick deflated, no longer interested in the man writhing beneath me. I tried to blame it on Caleb's being a distraction, and his negative vibe threw me off my game, but in the back of my mind, I knew why I'd brought Kirby around. I was just that petty. And once the object of my attention was gone, I casually pushed Kirby away and ended up sitting through the entirety of Deadpool before he finally got the hint things weren't gonna go down that way between us.

Fucking Caleb. Such a goddamn cockblock.

Without an outlet for my irritation, I headed out the next night to an old club favorite with the others, determined to get out of my bad mood. Showing off one of my new designs always gave me a confidence boost, and this one in particular accentuated my body in such a way that I'd leave them all gagging.

Preston let out a low whistle as I sauntered up to the bar. "Damn, Trav. On the prowl or meeting someone?"

"Can't a guy just look good?"

"Well, yeah, but there's good and then there's…wow."

I smirked, not sure I'd ever get over that our former "straight" guy of the group had no problem checking out guys now. "Stop it, you're turning me on."

He chuckled and lifted a shoulder. "Just being honest. Serena would die if she saw you. I should send her a picture."

"You should. She has impeccable taste…other than dating you," I teased with a wink. "How is your boyfriend's daughter these days?"

"Obsessed with Europe. I have a feeling she'll stay after her internship."

"You don't think your moving in with Archer has anything to do with that decision?"

"No, I think the rotation of hot bodies she's been hanging out with over there have more to do with it."

"Can't say I blame her." I glanced over my shoulder at the sea of bodies gyrating against one another on the dance floor. "Some fresh meat would be nice."

"Or you could try staying with one person longer than a night and not run out of perspective?—"

"Wieners?" East said as he sidled up beside Preston.

"Seriously?" Preston chuckled. "Can we stop talking about meat? I'm getting hungry."

"Careful," East warned with a sly grin. "Daddy Filth isn't here to feed you."

"Jealous?"

"I am," I admitted as I flagged down the bartender. "I'd let Archer feed me anything he wanted to. Even if I'm still holding a grudge."

East screwed his nose up. "Not me. Men that age are too high-handed. They think they own you."

Preston didn't look at all upset by the comment. In fact, his smile grew smug.

"And that's a problem because?" I asked.

"Because no one will ever own me."

I snorted. "That's because no one could afford you."

"Exactly. So why even entertain the notion? It's a pointless exercise, and I don't believe in wasting my time. It's valuable."

"Could you be more of a snob?"

"Probably." East looked at the bartender who'd just stopped in front of us. "Beluga Noble to our VIP, and don't make me ask for top-offs."

East looked back down the bar and arched a brow. "How's that?"

Pretty fucking impressive, I had to admit, since a bottle of Beluga Noble ran at close to $10K. "Excessive?"

"So perfect, then."

We headed back to our VIP lounge on the other side of the dance floor, and other club-goers automatically moved out of the way for us. That was nothing new—our group attracted attention wherever we went, which was why we were usually at the top of every invite list when it came to a new club, restaurant, or bar opening in New York.

If they wanted to get attention, have their place go viral, they made sure to get in touch with one of the Park Avenue Princes.

Did we like the name? Not at first. But as the years passed and the gossip magazines and online tabloids referred to us that way, it kind of stuck, and it was accurate. We all came from affluent families and we all lived on Park Avenue. Couldn't fault the logic there, even if it was kind of douchey, as Caleb used to say.

Ugh, Caleb. At least he wouldn't be here tonight. The last thing I needed was another night of cockblocking?—

I went still as my eyes landed on the VIP area, where the rest of our crowd was gathered.

What the hell was Caleb doing here?

I grabbed East by the elbow and jerked him to a stop. "Did you do this?"

He followed my gaze to the VIP. "Well, well, well. For someone who claims he doesn't want anything to do with us, he makes a habit of showing up lately, doesn't he?" East raised a brow as I dropped my hold on him. "I wonder why."

"To drive me fucking crazy," I muttered, clenching my fingers into a fist at my side.

"Seems he's everywhere you are, doesn't it? Here. At home. Sitting by you in class."

In my goddamn head, I added.

"It's an interesting choice."

"Is it? You're the one who threw him a fuckin' party."

"Oh, that's right." East's nonchalant tone hid the undercurrent of mischief I knew was simmering. "What do you plan to do about it?"

I watched as Caleb took a glass of clear liquid from the server passing out drinks, surprised it wasn't his usual brew. JT sat beside him, sandwiched between Caleb and West, whipping his head back and forth to talk to each of them, because it was obvious his boyfriend and best friend weren't on the best of terms.

The last thing I'd expected was a Caleb appearance tonight, and it rattled me to the point I could only stare. He'd even foregone his usual jeans for a pair of camel-colored pants and a fitted long-sleeve white shirt that hugged the lean muscles in his back and shoulders.

And those arms…

East snapped his fingers in front of my face, and I tore my eyes away from Caleb."Jesus, what?"

"Another second and you'd have drool falling down your chin." East wrinkled his nose. "I asked what you're planning to do about your little problem."

"I…" Fighting the urge to look back at Caleb, I turned my back on him to focus on East. "I don't know anymore. What do you think?"

"I think you should ask Van."

Considering Donovan was the one we all went to with our shit, the one who gave actual advice instead of whatever popped into his head, it was probably the smart thing to do. But I wasn't looking for logical—I was looking for fucked up.

"I don't want to talk to Van about feelings, for Christ's sake, that's why I'm asking you."

"That's hurtful. I have feelings. I just don't remember where I left them."

"Good, leave them somewhere else and help me. What would you do if you couldn't escape someone? If he was just…everywhere and you couldn't breathe?"

Without hesitating, East said, "I'd drown them."

"What?"

"You can't breathe, so they can't breathe?—"

"You're a real eye-for-an-eye guy, you know that?"

"I had to be growing up with my father." He shrugged. "But if you really want to take back your space, show him who's boss."

"And just how am I going to do that? It's not like he listens to me."

"Who said anything about listening?"

I narrowed my eyes, confused.

"In case you didn't notice, Caleb can't keep his eyes off you."

"Yeah, okay."

"Yeah. Okay. It's true. It's always been true. Even when we were in high school. But back then he could hide behind being friends with you. Now it's just this strange hate-eye-fuck thing he does that really is kind of hot, but at the same time screams of self-repression, and I'm not sure you have the patience for that."

"What the hell are you talking about? I wanted ideas that were fucked up. Not ones I'd need to go to a therapist to decipher."

East rolled his eyes. "I'm getting there, grasshopper. Breathe."

"That's the problem, remember? I can't."

"So reclaim your space."

"Huh?"

"Take back your space. He's everywhere, right?"

"Right?"

"So, you need to kick him out. Metaphorically, of course. Your parents would probably disown you if you did that for real."

I rubbed a hand over my face and let out a sigh. Shit, maybe I should've gone to Donovan.

"So do you have any brilliant ideas on how I'm supposed to do this?"

"Yes." East's lips twitched.

"You gonna enlighten me, or?—"

"You need to fuck someone in front of him."

That was the last thing I'd expected to come out of East's mouth. It shouldn't have been, since topnotch fuckery was the reason I'd come to him in the first place. But actual fuckery as a way to cleanse Caleb from my mind?

I mean, it wasn't the worst idea, and considering the way Caleb had reacted when I brought Kirby home last night, it just might work.

Plus, it'd kill two birds with one stone. I was horny as hell, had been since my dick had called it quits and taken a swan dive of epic proportions. And I would scare Caleb off permanently.

This plan was fucking genius.

"I see the wheels turning."

"Uh huh. This plan of yours, it just might work."

"Guaranteed. Once he sees you in your element—and trust me, you'd be hard to miss with how you're dressed tonight—he'll get the message."

"Which was what again?"

East let out a sigh as if to say, Keep up, would you? "That he doesn't rule your thoughts or own your space. That you're the same sexy man-whore we all know and love. Now, if you need more of a pep talk than that, I'm out. I left my pom-poms at home."

I snorted. "Nah, this is perfect. Exactly what I needed. Though I'd pay good money to see you wave some pom-poms around."

East brushed off his shoulder. "Yes, well, I wouldn't get your hopes up about that. Now come on. They've probably already finished off the first bottle."

As he headed toward the VIP, I stayed back and smoothed a hand down my top. "Actually, I'm going to take your advice and… How did Preston put it? Prowl around a bit. Find some trouble to get into."

"Or someone." He shot me a wink before leaving me to it, and as he stepped past the velvet rope, Caleb glanced up. His brow knitted together as he leaned forward to look past East, as if he'd expected someone else to be with him.

Me, perhaps?

As if he felt me watching, Caleb scanned the room, and when his eyes connected with mine, my cock jerked. All I ever wanted was that man's attention, and when I had it, it did things to my body I'd never get to make reality.

Because the truth was, he wasn't looking for me because he wanted me. He was looking to make sure I didn't come around and ruin his night.

Wait for it… I thought, the corner of my mouth tipping up as I gave him a two-finger salute and disappeared into the crowd to live up to my reputation and man-whore around Manhattan.