Page 96 of Shameless Royalty

He leans his head back against the nightstand, his gaze steady. “I missed you.”

My breath catches, my pulse skipping before picking up again, too fast, too fucking fast. “You—”

“I missed you,” he repeats, his voice soft but firm like he needs me to hear it, like he needs me to believe it.

I do. I just don’t know what to do with it. I press my lips together, my fingers tightening in the sheets. “You were only gone a few days.”

He exhales, shaking his head slightly. “That’s not the point.”

I hesitate, my chest tightening. “Then what is the point?”

He tilts his head slightly, gaze flickering over my face, reading me like he always fucking does. “You tell me.”

I could be a brat right now. I could throw up my usual walls, smirk and say something sharp, something to take the weight out of this moment.

But I don’t want to. Not this time. Not with him.

I move slightly in the bed, wincing as my body protests at the movement. “I missed you too.”

Connor stills. His breath catches—just for a second, just long enough for me to see it—before he blinks. “Yeah?” he murmurs.

I nod, my throat tight. “Yeah.”

His gaze searches mine like he’s looking for proof, like he’s waiting for me to take it back, to throw up a wall, to ruin this.

I don’t.

Instead, I reach for him again, my fingers brushing against his wrist. “I meant it. I missed you.”

Connor doesn’t move, doesn’t blink, just fucking stares at me like I’ve just knocked the air out of his lungs. And maybe I have. Maybe I’ve knocked the air out of myself too, because this is the first time I’ve said it without deflecting, without snapping, without making a bratty joke to cover up the way my chest clenches every time I look at him.

I keep my fingers against his wrist, feeling his pulse beneath my touch, steady and strong. It grounds me, even as my stomach twists with the weight of what I’m about to say. I could stop here. Could let this moment pass, let him fill in the blanks for himself. But I don’t want to. I want him to know.

“I missed your stupid grin,” I admit, voice barely above a whisper. “The one that makes me want to punch you in the throat.”

The corner of his mouth twitches, but he doesn’t smirk, doesn’t ruin it with some cocky response.

“I missed the way you talk too much,” I continue, my thumb brushing over his wrist now. “And the way you never shut the fuck up, even when you should.”

Connor exhales through his nose, his eyes flicking between mine, something unbearably soft in his expression.

I swallow hard, forcing myself to keep going. “I missed the way you tease me. Even when it’s annoying. Even when I want to strangle you for it.”

He chuckles, but it’s quiet and my chest feels tight, my throat thick. “I missed the way you look at me like I’m something worth looking at.” I don’t realize my fingers are gripping him tighter until I feel the shift in his muscles, and the way his breathinghitches. “Like I’m not just… the enemy’s son. Like I’m not just a pawn in all of this.”

Connor’s jaw tightens, his eyes darkening. “You’re not,” he murmurs, voice rough.

I nod, taking a shaky breath. “I missed how you make me feel like I’m real.”

His fingers twitch against his knee like he wants to reach for me but isn’t sure if he should.

So I do it for him.

I scoot closer, ignoring the pain it sends through my ribs, and press my forehead against his. “I missed you,mó chroí,” I murmur, my voice shaking slightly now. “I fuckin’ missed you.”

Connor doesn’t say anything at first, just keeps looking at me, but the usual cockiness is gone, the smirk absent. I don’t know what the hell I’ve just admitted to him, but it sits between us like a live wire.

He moves then, his other hand coming up to brush his fingers against my temple, tracing lightly over the bruises, his touch barely there. His jaw clenches, his eyes flashing with something dangerous, but he doesn’t say anything about it, doesn’t push. Instead, he takes a slow breath, then murmurs, “Scoot over.”

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