Page 41 of A Royal Menace

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

Callie

Me:Do you ever feel like you’re completely clueless even though you’re an intelligent, educated person?

Me:Sorry, that probably makes no sense.

Emmett:No, I know what you mean. And yes, I feel like that today, actually.

Me:I’m glad I’m not the only one.

Emmett:Want to talk about it?

Me:Desperately. But no personal details, remember?

Emmett:I know, but we can stretch that rule a bit if you need to. Just keep it as nonspecific as possible.

Me:Thank you, but that’s okay. I’m having some friends over this morning to talk about it. They’ll set me straight.

Emmett:Friends are good. And if they can’t help you work out whatever it is you’re clueless about, the offer stands.

Me:Thanks, Emmett.

Emmett:Anytime, Elle.

I’ve been beating myself up since I woke up this morning. For being disappointed in the way last night ended. For being upset that Royal didn’t try to kiss me. For regretting not taking the plunge and initiating a kiss, myself.

And for exploiting the way his gaze kept sliding toward my bared midriff. Oh, I noticed. And after I noticed the first time, I made sure to keep moving and twisting in ways that made my top slide up in small increments. I intentionally teased him for hours.

God, I’m an idiot.

What was I hoping would happen? That Royal would lose control and touch me? Kiss me? Pin me to a wall and explore every inch of me?

News flash––he didn’t do any of that.

And that hug I gave him before he left was reckless and impulsive, but it did its job. It proved which way the wind blows in regards to Royal’s feelings. I’m a colleague.Maybea friend. That’s it.

So, why am I still obsessing over it all? Because I’m a glutton for punishment, that’s why.

I need to accept the fact that nothing will ever happen between us and stop harboring these sick fantasies about his mouth on mine. Jesus, I don’t even know how I actually got to this point. If you’d asked me ten days ago, I’d tell you I couldn’t stand the man. And now, I’m daydreaming about things I have no business daydreaming about.

That’s why I’ve invited Raven, Joey, and Twila over for brunch this morning. So I can talk all this out with them and let them whip me into shape. They’ll make me see just how insane I’m being, and have both feet firmly on the ground when I see Royal at work tomorrow.

I’ve got the champagne and orange juice out for mimosas, and I’m toasting the bagels when a loud knock sounds on thedoor. I yell out that it’s unlocked, and Raven strides in with my sister Joey and her best friend, Twila, hot on her heels.

“We could’ve been serial killers, you know,” Raven says without preamble. “You should keep your door locked.”

“I only unlocked it a few minutes ago, and I don’t think a serial killer would knock.”

“I wouldn’t bet my life on that,” she says, snagging half a bagel before smothering it in cream cheese.

I watch her for a moment, one corner of my mouth ticking up. “Why do seagulls fly over the sea?”

“What?” she asks, then looks over at Joey and Twila, who are filling our glasses, with an exaggeratedly worried look.

I huff. “Come on. Why do seagulls fly over the sea?”

Raven rolls her eyes. “Okay, I’ll bite. Why do seagulls fly over the sea?”

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