Page 39 of A Royal Menace

“It doesn’t have to be one or the other. It can be both,” he says softly, and I nod.

“I see that, now.”

The doorbell rings before he can respond, and I snap out of the trance into which our soft conversation had put me. Standing in a rush, I mumble something about the food being here and bolt for the door. My heart is pounding as I accept the bags of food from the delivery driver and pull a five from my pocket for the tip. He thanks me and spins to leave, and I take a couple of deep breaths to calm myself as I close the door.

I need to stop. This isn’t a date. Royal doesn’t like me likethat, and I can’t keep imagining that he does.

“And you don’t like him like that, either,” I whisper to myself before turning and heading back toward the table.

My steps falter when I see he’s cleared the table and moved his chair in beside mine. He watches me expectantly as he takes a sip of his beer, no doubt waiting for me to complain about the new seating arrangement. The challenge in his eyes puts me back on solid footing.

I knowthisRoyal. I canhandlethis Royal.

“I hope you like tacos,” I say cheerfully as I set the bags on the table in front of him.

“Who doesn’t like tacos?” he asks, his brow furrowing.

“Good answer,” I say, grinning. “I’d probably ask you to leave if you’d turned your nose up at them.”

He laughs and starts unloading the bags while I head into the kitchen to grab us fresh beers, plates, and napkins. When I get back to the table, I pretend to be completely unbothered by his proximity as I slide into my chair. Royal doles out two tacos, each, and we silently unwrap them. My elbow bumps into his, and I mumble an apology, but he only shakes his head like it doesn’t matter and groans as he takes his first bite.

My nerves settle as I start to eat. We’re both dribbling chunks of meat, cheese, and lettuce onto our plates as we take bites, because let’s be honest, there’s no real delicate or tidy way to eat crispy tacos.

I look over at Royal, then laugh when I see some grease dripping down his chin after he takes a large bite. His laughter joins mine as he picks up a napkin to wipe his chin, then reaches over to dab at the corner of my mouth. I freeze, and he drops his hand.

“Sorry. You just had a little sour cream,” he murmurs, and my tongue darts out to wet my lips.

“Did you get it all?” I ask and somehow manage not to flinch at my own flirty tone.

Where did that come from? Jesus, how strong is this beer?

Royal just nods, licks his own lips, then turns his attention back to his plate. We chat a little bit about our upcoming field trip to the zoo, and the tension I was feeling drains away. I declare myself full after two tacos, but Royal snags a third from the bag and devours it while we talk.

Once he’s finished, he stops me from clearing the table and stands, taking our plates to the sink and rinsing them before coming back to grab the trash and leftover tacos. The former goes into the trash can while the latter goes into the fridge.

When he returns and sits next to me, he leans back in his chair and studies me for a long moment.

“What?” I ask after several beats of silence.

He shakes his head slightly and smiles. “Nothing. It’s just…you’re not at all what I thought.”

I smile back at him. “Neither are you.”

Our locked gazes hold for a few more moments, and I’m the first to snap out of it. Clearing my throat, I declare that we should get back to work, and Royal agrees. He pulls my lesson book back over in front of me, and I start to read Tuesday’s plan.

I don’t look up at Royal, but I can feel his eyes on me.

And I don’t hate it.

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

Royal

Callie is laughing again,and I can’t take my eyes off her. She lifts out of her chair to reach for something, and my eyes snap back to that sliver of skin at her waist revealed by her cropped hoodie. It’s not the first time, and it won’t be the last.

I move my gaze away before she catches me staring, and then I adjust in my chair to relieve some of the pressure building in my jeans. I can’t remember the last time I was so turned on, especially by such a modest show of skin. I swallow past the lump in my throat and try to breathe through the ache, mentally ordering my cock to stand down.

This is ridiculous. Callie and I are just friends.

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