Page 9 of Mistaken Prejudice

“So… he isn’t your boyfriend?”

“Nope,” he said, popping the P and grinning my way.

“So you’re single?”

“As single as one can be.”

I swore he got a little bit closer.

Halle-fucking-lujah. I smiled like an idiot, but who gave a fuck. This gorgeous guy was as single as one can be! Thank you, Jesus.

It was a moment of anticipation in which neither of us spoke, and yet, it wasn’t awkward. I wanted this moment to last for a few more minutes or forever. Miles looked at me with eyes full of desire, and it was then I knew we both had the same thought, I want you, but neither of us was about to say it. At least not so soon. We just declared it’s game on. And now, it was time to set the rules.

“Yo! Andrei! I found it!” Jess’s croaky voice came from afar, and we both turned to look at him running, holding his bag in the air with Levi right behind him. Coming back to look at me, Miles checked me out one last time and smiled.

“So, I guess I’ll see you around, Andrei.”

The way he spoke my name sent bolts of excitement straight to my cock, and by the smirk on his face, he knew the effect he had on me.

“I guess we will.”

He moved his hand over his jaw and bit down on the corner of his lip. “Salut, Andrei.”

He French-talked me as he passed to go to his car. Pointless to say, I kept my eyes on him and his ass until he got into his Maserati. That’s a nice ride, baby. I watched him drive away like the complete sucker I was.

Looking back at our truck, I found Diesel’s eyes on me. And he was pissed off.

“Can we stop for tacos on the way home?” Jess’s question took my attention away from Diesel, and I was thankful for it. I’d deal with his anger issues later.

“We’re late for work, but I’ll bring some leftovers from the club, okay?”

Jess’s smile grew bigger, and I loved how easy it was to make him happy. He was the purest soul alive.

“Hell yes!” he shouted as he climbed into the truck.

“Who was that kid?” Levi asked with his usual unfazed expression.

“Just somebody.” I tried to sound calm, but nothing could fool Levi.

“Sure.” He patted me on the shoulder and climbed into the truck.

Yeah, I am fooling nobody.

Chapter 4

Andrei

I leaned back against the car, waiting to take off those ridiculous uniforms the club forced us to wear. The fabric was itchy and tight as fuck, leaving zero space for my balls. Fucking hell. I waited for Diesel to be done with his latest conquest. It was past midnight, and I was beaten, but what kind of friend would I be if I didn’t support my brother when he scored? Fuck that. Not even a single shift went by without him fucking some club lady. If I were to describe his taste, I’d say married and rich. I guess fucking those married, bored housewives who came to the club gave him some sort of superiority complex. A big Fuck You to their rich, privileged husbands he hated so much.

Not getting too much into it, I pulled out my phone from my pocket and opened Instagram. Tapping the search bar, I typed his name. I figured there wouldn’t be many Miles Williams Duforts out here, and I was right. He was the first account that popped up, with a little blue V next to his name, and holy fuck, the guy had over three hundred thousand followers. What the hell?

I started to scroll down his page like the stalker I apparently was, looking and longing at every single post. His account was mostly videos of him riding his horse, Blanc. A reel of them jumping over a hedge, or maybe a fence, made my jaw drop. Apparently, he was a big shot in the equestrian world if you took into account all the pictures of him standing on podiums with trophies and medals. A different reel showed him walking down a runway and another on a set of some fashion production. Of course he was a model. With a face like his, how could he not?

One of the pictures immediately caught my attention. It was a close-up shot of him and his horse. Miles’s head rested on Blanc’s head as he faced the camera. The look in his piercing aqua eyes spoke more than a thousand words. The way his dark hair mixed with the horse’s coal coat was mesmerizing, and it suddenly occurred to me that Miles looked familiar. I scrolled down, looking for a connection to where I knew him from, when I came across a picture of him and that dickface Shay-Lee, posing together on a yacht in Monaco. Can you get any richer than that? Knowing it would do nothing but piss me off, I tapped the tag that took me straight into dickface’s account, and guess what? It did piss me off.

For some unknown reason, the prick had three point five million followers.

Three. Point. Five. Million. Followers.