CorbinThere I was, yet again, drinking myself silly at a sports bar because of some stupid chick. First, that raven-haired witch—Christ, that felt like a million years ago—and now Faria. Princess. Faria.
“I thought she wanted to stay,” I muttered into my glass. But of course she was leaving. Why else would she have wanted that ten thousand dollars? I couldn’t blame her for wanting to get the f**k out and to start a new life. It was the smart, practical thing to do.
So why the hell was I so upset?
“Because she was a good f*****g lay,” I murmured drunkenly. I didn’t care that I was speaking aloud. Anybody sitting near me had shifted away ages ago, probably afraid of my dangerous expression.
But if I was really honest with myself, I knew that there was more to it than that. She was a good
