Deviant Prince [Romano Brotherhood, #2]

6 | Vivienne

"Come here, you ungrateful fucking rat!"

I groan in helplessness, forgetting momentarily that I'm on the phone as Nik darts from my hands and into my kitchen cabinet, sending a stack of pans clattering noisily to the floor. He resumes his hunching and gagging regimen, and I wrinkle my nose in disgust.

I think I'm going to need to take him to the vet. He's still all messed up from that hair tie he ate.

"Isn't it weird that he keeps eating things he shouldn't? I don't think cats are supposed to do that, right?"

As if hearing my concern and interpreting it as criticism, Nik turns to glare at me. Daring me to try and grab him again. I glare right back, refusing to back down in the face of the devil. I will not admit defeat.

"Uh," the smooth voice crackles through my phone, wedged between my shoulder and ear. "I'm not sure. But Viv—"

"Hold on," I grunt, getting a sudden idea. I crouch so the upper half of my body is inside the cabinet, grabbing a particularly large pot and its lid. In a sudden swoop, I've captured my cat. "Ha! Gotcha," I gloat. I'll deposit him safely by his litter box, where he can vomit to his heart's content.

"Viv," David's stern voice prickles my neck in annoyance, and I'm reminded of the dragging conversation we've been having for the last thirty minutes. "I'd really like for you to focus here. You're so all over the place sometimes."

"David, I've told you so many times that I can't find your grandmother's ring anywhere. You must've left it somewhere else. You know if it was here, I'd tell you."

David likes to occasionally call me about miscellaneous things that he deems of the utmost importance. Today, it was about a ring he misplaced and thought he might've left here. To his credit, it is a priceless family heirloom. But the conversation is quickly devolving into something a little too... emotionally involved for my tastes.

"I know you say you looked," David says tactfully, and Nik gives an offended hiss from inside the pot, "but I need you to really take this seriously, Viv. Can you do that please? My mother is going to be devastated—"

"I am taking this seriously," I snap. "I've been looking for thirty minutes. I've cleaned my place a dozen times since you were last over and never saw it. I sincerely hope you find it, but it is not my problem anymore. I'm going to hang up now."

"This is how you always were," he sighs morosely, "you never cared about the things I cared about. It's a constant battle to get you to take things seriously. It's why I had to end it."

"We weren't even together," I strangle out, not wanting to be an asshole but feeling like I have no choice. "I made that abundantly clear to you, didn't I?" He tries to interrupt, but I don't let him. "No, David. You did end things. You're right. You chose to do that, so be a big boy and stick to your decision. I'm sorry I couldn't return your feelings, but you're not a fucking martyr, okay?"

I can feel him making me unreasonably upset, and that in turn makes me more upset. This is why I don't do relationships. Even no-strings-attached, casual sex has its complications. There are always strings.

"Vi—"

I hang up with a huff right as my doorbell rings. Keeping a firm hold on the pot containing my feline, who has now accepted his fate and is settled quietly inside the kitchen appliance, I stomp towards my front door.

My girl friends are coming over to get ready before we go out tonight, and we'll meet the guys at the bar. It's rare we feel the desire to go out seeing as we spend so much of our time at Pulse, so when the mood hits, we take full advantage of it. After that phone call, and with everything that's been going on with my neighbor, I can't think of anything more appealing than a handful of drinks, a sweaty dance floor with a willing partner, and pulsing, bass-heavy music that vibrates in my bones.