Page 40 of A Royal Menace

That thought gives me pause when I realize it’s true. Callie and Iarefriends now, something I couldn’t have predicted a couple of weeks ago. I might have to send that teacher who backed out and gave up her spot at the convention a fruit basket, or something.

Callie says my name a little louder than necessary, and “What?” blurts out of my mouth before I can stop it. When I meet her gaze she looks a bit concerned.

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah. Of course. Why?”

She cocks her head to the left and studies me. “I lost you there. I said your name three times.”

A laugh that I hope sounds convincing barks out of me as I shake my head. “Sorry. I guess I just zoned out for a minute.”

Her expression doesn’t change as she asks, “What were you thinking about?”

There’s only a moment’s hesitation while I debate telling her the truth, then I shake my head. “I don’t know. I forgot.”

If she were any other woman, I might tell her the truth. That her sexy little sweatshirt is turning me on just to see how she’d react. To see if there’s a chance at something more.

But I can’t do that with Callie. We’re just now getting to a place where we get along, and I can’t fuck that up. Not when she’s finally decided we can be the teammates I always hoped we’d be. Not when she’s asking for my help at improving her classroom’s energy and morale.

But at the same time, I don’t want to tell her the rest, either. That I’m so glad we’re becoming friends, at last. Even though I know nothing romanticshouldhappen between us, some small instinct inside me doesn’t want to close that door completely by verbally friend-zoning her.

It’s masochistic, I know. But I just can’t bring myself to do it. If she were ever to even hint she wanted something more, I’d be all over her in a second, consequences be damned. It’s stupid and contradictory to every bit of common sense I possess, but seeing her with new eyes last weekend altered something inside me.

I want to see more.

I want to know more.

I want to knoweverything.

We get back to work on her plans, and an hour later, we have the whole week mapped out. Callie leans back with a soft, genuine smile, and I can’t take my eyes off her. Happy looks good on her. Really fucking good.

“I should go,” I blurt before I do something stupid like yank her over onto my lap and kiss her senseless.

Her face falls, and I almost take it back, but before I can, her expression brightens and she stands. There’s still a hint of disappointment in her eyes as I push out of my own chair, but she smiles and leads me toward the door without a word. Halfway across the room, though, she stops and spins, slamming into my chest and wrapping her arms around my waist. I freeze for only a second before curving my arms around her shoulders and hugging her back.

“Thank you,” she mumbles into my chest.

“You’re welcome,” I whisper into her hair before inhaling the sweet scent of it and closing my eyes.

My cock twitches at the close proximity, but I don’t let her go. I’ll hold her as long as she wants to be held. She tightens her grip the tiniest bit, and I forget all about the problem in my pants as my chest hollows out.

This feels really good. It feels right.

Then she’s chuckling and releasing me far too soon for my own liking. I let her go, and as she looks up to meet my eyes, I want to kiss her so fucking bad, and my hands itch to pull her back against me. But in the end, the rational side of my brain wins out. I remain perfectly still as she searches my gaze for a few beats more, then exhales roughly and turns back toward the door. I follow along behind her, cursing myself and the universe and everything else under the sun.

Callie pulls open the door and stands beside it before whispering, “Goodnight, Royal.”

“Goodnight,” I murmur back with a nod, then walk out into the hall.

I turn back to look at her, and her smile is a bit sad as she gives me a little wave and closes the door. I hear the deadbolt slide into place, the clicking sound like a death knell for any hopes I had about this night ending differently.

I tilt my head back, close my eyes, and blow out a harsh breath. God. I’m so confused. It feels like I’m tied to a medieval stretching rack, my impulses pulling at my legs while reason wrenches my arms. Those impulses are screaming at me to knock, to go back in there, but I manage to suppress them enough to walk away.

Once I’m in my car, I scrub a hand down my face and sigh. I made the right choice. I know I did. And now I have only tonight and tomorrow to get my head on straight before I see her again on Monday. To beat it into my addled brain that Calliope Barnes is a coworker and a friend.

That’s all. Nothing more.

Starting the engine, I sigh again as I shift the transmission into reverse and back out of my parking spot. Time to head home to my empty apartment and wonder why it never felt as lonely as it does now.

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