Conceited Read online T.L. Smith (Crimson Elite #3)

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Contemporary, Romance Tags Authors: Series: Crimson Elite Series by T.L. Smith
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Total pages in book: 62
Estimated words: 60401 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 302(@200wpm)___ 242(@250wpm)___ 201(@300wpm)
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4

Ariel ‘Raven’

“If I could strangle one person on this planet it would be your brother,” I tell Tracey as she sits across from me while we have coffee.

“He isn’t that bad.” I look up from my rambling to see her eyes are tired, and her hands haven’t moved, not even to lift her coffee.

“What’s wrong?”

She looks up at me, tears welling in her eyes. We haven’t been as close as we once were for a long time. But we have been trying to fix that situation. One thing I can say, though, is I’ve never ever seen Tracey cry.

She wipes at her nose shaking her head. “It’s nothing.” But she’s lying. Tracey and Falcon Marseilles never get upset, so I know there’s something she isn’t telling me.

“Should we go and egg your brother’s house?”

She laughs, wipes at her eyes and smiles. “I missed you, you know.”

I reach for her hand, covering it with mine. “I did, too. But I am serious, can we go egg his house? Think of how much fun that would be.” We did it once to his room when we were teenagers. And told him if he pissed us off again, one day he would have his own house and we would egg that too.

“He’s been… good.” She isn’t lying, Falcon idolizes his sister. Thinks she walks on water. It’s something I wished I had growing up—a brother who loved me like Falcon loves her. If we ever got in trouble, it’s not our parents we would call, it would be Falcon and he’d bail us out every single time without questions. I was an only child, so I wished I had what Tracey and Falcon did.

“We could drink?” I suggest instead, noting she obviously doesn’t want to talk about it.

“That sounds so much better, but unfortunately I have to go to work.” She gets up to leave as her cell starts ringing. “No.” Her eyes look to me as she holds the cell to her ear, then they lift and search around. “Falcon, I told you… no.” She huffs into the cell, hangs up on him, and looks at me. “I really am sorry, I didn’t know he would be here.” Just as she says those words he walks up behind her, kisses her on the cheek and looks directly at me.

“I was just leaving.” I stand but his hand comes over to where my bag is before I can grab it.

“One drink,” he says. I look to Tracey who gives no indication about what I should do. I want to be polite because I know she’s hurting, but I also want to tell him to fuck off at the same time. “Please.”

“You’ll be okay?” I ask her. She’s already checked out and not paying us any attention. She manages a nod before she walks off. Falcon comes to stand behind me, pulls my chair out and smiles for me to sit. I do so because I don’t like him standing behind me.

“What do you want, Falcon?”

He calls the waiter over and orders us drinks. Sitting there, he does nothing but stare at me while we wait. I’m almost ready to walk off when a glass is placed in front of me, which I don’t intend to drink.

“You’re even more beautiful,” he finally says. “Even when you’re dreaming of all the ways you can stab me.”

I smile at his comment, not the beautiful part but the ways I can stab him. In the eye, perhaps? I stare as he puts his drink to his lips, takes a sip, and watches me over the top of his glass. My legs start twitching. I want to move and not be sitting here with him. Anywhere but here right now.

“I want to know… would you escort me to a Mariah Carey concert? I have to do some work there, and figured I could use the company.”

My body goes stiff in my seat. He’s low, he takes shots real low. He knows she’s the one person I’ve always wanted to see. When I was a teenager, my parents tried getting me tickets but missed out. And I know she’s in town right now, too. I shake my head, standing.

“Is that a no? Should I take a photo, perhaps, and send it to you?”

What leaves my mouth is like a train wreck that just won’t stop coming. I can’t do anything to halt the verbal diarrhea.

“How about you find the closest gutter and roll over in it and die.”

He laughs as I turn to leave. That was low, he made me angry, and he makes me stoop to even new lows, lows I’ve never been to before. My heels click loudly on the pavement as I try to get as far away as possible from him, except he’s faster, he always has been. His hand closes around my wrist, stalling me from going any further.


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