Page 60 of A Royal Menace

I don’t answer her. I just continue to stare and blink as my mind goes through my conversations with Emmett. His deceased fiancée. His goofy jokes. The fact that he texted me all giddy about his weekend yesterday afterIhad an amazing weekend with Royal. His silence after I asked him about Royal and the whole phone number situation.

And when I gave Royal my number, he refused to give me his.

Because heknew.

I’m breathing hard, now. Almost hyperventilating.

“Callie?” Marissa asks, sounding worried.

But her voice is faint. My thoughts are too loud.

Royal knows I’m Elle. And he knows if he gives me his number, I’ll know he’s Emmett.

Oh, my God.Has this whole thing been a set-up? Some kind of cruel joke?

I think I’m going to throw up.

Setting my still-full coffee mug in the sink, I spin and run out of there, ignoring Marissa’s concerned questions. I don’t stop running until I reach my car. Ripping open the door, I climb in, slam it shut, and hit the locks. I take a few moments to calm myself the tiniest bit before calling my favorite substitute and asking her if she can sub for my class today.

I tell her I’m sick.

She agrees, so I call the front office to tell them she’ll be coming in for me today. I tell the receptionist I’m sick, too. She questions me like she doesn’t believe me. She saw me run out, obviously upset.

I can’t handle the questions, so I insist I’m sick and end the call.

Starting my car and backing out of the spot, I see Royal’s car pulling into the lot. My heart starts to pound as tears fill my eyes. I can’t. I just…can’t.

He hits the breaks when he sees me leaving. He waves, then lifts his palms up and shrugs his shoulders in question. I ignore him and haul ass out of there, my tires squealing against the asphalt as I whip my car onto the road.

My tears are blurring my vision, so I swipe at my eyes to clear them. I don’t want to wreck. And that thought leads me right back to Royal and his fiancée, making my eyes fill anew.

I don’t know if I’m overreacting. There’s a decent chance Royal had no idea he’s been texting with me this entire time. But even if that’s true, he figured it out yesterday after I gave him my number, and he didn’t say a word. He made up an excuse to use Cackle instead of giving me his own number.

He lied, even if it was a lie by omission.

And when I went to his house last night, he continued to lie. He lied while we ate dinner. He lied afterward, when we…

God. I need time to think. Time to figure this out.

I somehow make it home in one piece despite the tears obscuring my vision. When I park in my designated space, my phone screen lights up, catching my attention. Picking it up from where I dropped it on the passenger’s seat, I brush my tears away with my free hand to see it’s a direct message from Royal on Cackle. I tap the notification to open the message.

RoyalMan: Hey, what’s going on? Are you okay? The ladies in the front office said you claimed to be sick, but you looked upset when you left. Did something happen?

I close the app without responding. Royal will see that I read the message and ignored it, but I don’t care about hurting his feelings right now. I need time.

I need time to get my head and my heart straight before I can eventhinkof speaking with him.

He’s just going to have to wait.

CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO

Royal

I am freakingthe fuck out.

Even though I’ve tried my best to hide it, I can tell the kids sense the maelstrom of fear and panic swirling inside me. They’re more subdued this morning, like they’re walking on eggshells, waiting for me to implode.

And they’re not wrong.

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