Page 18 of A Royal Menace

“Of course,” John says, and the others nod. “Consider it forgotten.”

“Thank you,” I breathe, then inhale sharply when a flash of pink near the door catches my eye.

My whole body turns in that direction without my permission, and my chest hollows out as my heart leaps up intomy throat. It’s Callie, looking like someone I’ve never met in a pretty, pink, knee-length dress paired with a pair of strappy black high heels that make her legs look a mile long. Her hair is pulled up in a fancy-looking twist that leaves a thick, shiny lock curling against one jawline.

Fuck me.

I’ve associated Calliope Barnes with many things over the years we’ve known each other. Acquaintance. Coworker. Team member. Adversary. Bane of my existence. Recipient of my incessant teasing and person I love to irk the most.

But tonight? In this moment right now? When my lungs have forgotten how to function, and I have a bead of sweat dripping down the center of my back?

Calliope Barnes is all woman. An extremely attractive,alluringwoman. I can’t take my eyes off her as she glances around the large, crowded space, shifting her weight back and forth a bit nervously before steeling her spine, lifting her chin, and moving deeper into the room.

That’s my girl.

Wait, what?

Shit.

I said it before, and I’ll say it again.

Fuck me.

This is bad. This is very,verybad.

CHAPTER ELEVEN

Callie

I need a drink.Stat.

That weirdly charged moment back in the room with Royal earlier felt almost…intimate, and now I’m freaking the fuck out. And now, I’m using the F-word. I try to avoid using it, even internally, because I’m terrified I’ll let it slip verbally in front of the wrong people––namely, my students.

Ugh. This is all Royal’s fault for being so kind. And considerate. And charming.

God, I hate him so much. Don’t I?

Suddenly, that verb feels verywrong. Sure, Royal is annoying as hell and derives great pleasure from annoyingme, specifically. We have polar-opposite teaching styles, and he refuses to compromise.

Well, that’s not exactly true, is it? He’s kept his class to a dull roar most days, and has even kept them silent when I’ve asked for a specific quiet time because of a test or other important assignment.

Shit.Is itmewho refuses to compromise?

My eyes widen as I spot the man in question like I somehow conjured him there across the room. He’s standing with a group of people, but they’re just blurry shapes surrounding him because our eyes have locked, and I can’t look away. I can’t move. I can’t breathe.

Royal is staring at me with an odd expression. Some mix of pleasure and disbelief. I remain frozen as he breaks the eye contact, his gaze moving down my body and back up again in a way that makes my heart pound and my stomach twist into knots.

No. This is stupid. I’m being ridiculous, imagining such things. I don’t evenlikehim. I certainly don’t want to––

I’m not even going to finish that sentence in my mind. And I refuse to even contemplate how good he looks right now in a pair of dark jeans and a maroon button-down cuffed at the elbows.

I shake my head and carve a path through the crowd toward the bar. These thoughts are dangerous, and I need to dull them with alcohol. Like, right now.

One good deed, and I’m already seeing Royal in a different light. Next thing you know, I’ll be admitting to myself how attractive I’vealways––secretly––found him with those thick, muscular arms and that bright, mischievous smile that makes his eyes crinkle at the corners in the most endearing way.

“Fuck,” I say aloud this time.

I need tostop. Now.

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