Page 55 of A Royal Menace

I wait a couple of beats, but get no response. I whisper her name again, tilting my head so I can see her face. Her cheek rests against my chest, her eyes closed and her breaths deep and even. She’s asleep.

Relief and guilt war inside me as I think about waking her up. In the end, I decide to let her sleep. I’ve already put it off this long. Our conversation can wait until the morning, when she’s well-rested and, hopefully, in a good mood.

Sighing quietly, I reach over and grab my phone from the nightstand. Pulling up my text thread with “Elle,” I scroll through and read all of our messages. I’ve really enjoyed our conversations, and I don’t want to lose this. But I alsocan’tlose what I’m building with Callie. It’s too soon to call it love, but my feelings for her are strong. Something I haven’t felt for anyone since Hope.

If––no,when––I tell Callie the truth, I can only hope she won’t assume I’ve known it was her all along. Sure, she’s going to be angry I didn’t fess up the second she gave me her phone number. Hell, I’d be mad, too. And that load of crap I gave her about messaging through Cackle instead being a better option only made things worse.

I just pray she sees the logic, and will realize I never would’ve asked for her phone number in the first place if I’d known she was “Elle” the whole time. That I panicked and made a poor decision afterward, sure, but I never set out to intentionally deceive her.

Closing out the app and setting my phone back on the nightstand, I tighten my arm around Callie and press a soft kiss into her hair. She moans in her sleep and snuggles closer, her own arm squeezing my chest. My thoughts go foggy as I settle into the warmth of our embrace, and I blow out a long breath.

Tomorrow. I’ll tell her the truth tomorrow.

The next thing my brain registers, I’m waking up in an otherwise empty bed. I call out her name, but there’s nothing but silence in response. Climbing out of bed, I wander into the kitchen to find a note on the counter. It says Callie went home to get ready for work, and that she’d see me later. It’s signed with a heart.

Fuck.I lost my chance to talk to her, and now, I’m going to have to continue to lie to her all day. Because there’s no way in hell I’m broaching the subject at work. I need her alone so we can hash this out until it’s resolved.

I stare down at the note in my hand, my gaze zeroed in on that heart. Maybe I should go straight to her apartment. Maybe I can catch her before she leaves for work, and we can resolve it before I dig myself any deeper into this hole I’ve created.

I look up from the note to the microwave to check the time. No. I’ll never make it.

Dropping the paper back to the counter, I head back into my bedroom to retrieve my phone. I consider calling Callie, then disregard the idea. This conversation needs to be had in person. Instead, I pull up Linc’s number and tap the icon to initiate a call.

“Hey, bro,” he says when he answers on the second ring.

His voice echoes, telling me he’s in his work truck, and I’m on speaker.

“Are you alone?” I ask instead of returning the greeting.

“Yeah,” he says. “I’m on my way to a worksite. What’s wrong?”

“I have a problem, and I need your advice,” I say.

There’s a moment of loaded silence before he answers. “Okay. Lay it on me.”

I know he’s surprised. I never come to him for advice. As the older brother, it’s always been me who doles out the words ofwisdom. Not that he hasn’t been there for me when I’ve needed him. He’s always been there. I’ve just rarely taken advantage of it.

“I’ve been seeing…Callie,” I say, and he cuts me off.

“Woah, woah, woah. Seriously?” he asks, and I feel my hackles rise. Then he laughs and says, “I knew I was right.”

He’s referring to the last conversation we had about her, when I told him I was sharing my room with her at the convention. He accused me of being into her. But if I was, I wasn’t aware of it, so I’d denied it, completely.

“Do you want to hear this, or not?” I ask, so he stops laughing and clears his throat.

“Yeah. Sorry.”

I give him some bare-bones details describing the evolution of this thing with Callie, making it clear how happy I am with her. Linc listens without interrupting. When I finish, I take a long breath and let it out slowly.

“It sounds great, Royal. What’s the problem?” he asks when I don’t start speaking again right away.

“So, you know how the anniversary of Hope’s accident just passed?” I ask.

“Yeah, I know,” he says quietly.

“There’s this thing I do every year around the date. I text her. On her old phone number. It helps, talking about our memories together even though I know she’s not on the other end.”

“I didn’t know that,” he says.

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