Page 117 of Shameless Royalty

My stomach twists. “Then fucking act like it.”

His nostrils flare, frustration bleeding into his expression, but I don’t back down. I hold his gaze, refusing to let him brush past this, refusing to let him make me feel like I’m the one being unreasonable when all I’ve done is ask for something real.

His throat bobs. He looks like he wants to argue and push back, but instead, he just clenches his jaw, his shoulders rising and falling with his uneven breaths.

Silence stretches between us, thick and suffocating. Then, finally, he whispers, “I don’t know how.”

The admission punches the air from my lungs and for a moment, I can’t move, can’t speak. Because I don’t think I’ve ever heard Connor Cunningham admit to not knowing something before.

I shake my head slowly, my voice hoarse. “Figure it out.”

His hands twitch, his lips parting like he wants to say something, but I don’t let him. I push myself up, ignoring thepain radiating through my ribs, and step past him, walking to the window. I need air. I need space.

I hear him sigh behind me, the bed shifting as he stands. For a second, I think he’s going to leave, but then the warmth of his body presses against my back.

I stiffen, my breath catching. His hands settle on my hips, his chest rising and falling in time with mine. “I don’t want to leave like this,” he murmurs, his lips brushing my temple.

I squeeze my eyes shut. “Then don’t.”

He breathes out, his grip tightening for a second before he loosens it. “You know I have to.”

I don’t respond. I don’t have anything left to fucking say. Connor lingers for a moment like he’s waiting for me to break, waiting for me to let him in.

But I can’t. Because even if I do, he’ll just fucking leave again.

Chapter 47

Malachi

ThemomentConnorstepsinto my room the following day, the air shifts. I feel it before I even turn my head—this quiet, tense energy that wraps around us. I don’t move from where I’m sitting on the edge of the bed with my hands curled into fists in my lap and my jaw tight. I knew he was coming. I knew he’d show up before leaving, but that doesn’t make this any easier.

I hear the soft click of the door locking behind him. Heavy boots against the hardwood. A slow exhale, like he’s bracing himself. Then, finally, I turn my head.

And it fucking guts me.

He looks good and it annoys the shite out of me. Dressed in all black tactical gear, his holster strapped to his chest, his knife at his thigh, his blond hair slightly tousled like he ran his hands through it too many times. His green eyes are focused, but there’s something else beneath the surface—something frayed and desperate, something just for me.

But I don’t let it get to me. Not this time.

His gaze drags over me, taking me in like he’s memorizing every fucking detail, but I don’t give him anything. I keep my expression blank, keep my body stiff, keep my hands clenched so tight I can feel my nails biting into my palms.

“Babyface,” he murmurs as he steps closer.

I don’t react.

He sighs, rubbing a hand over his jaw before dropping it back to his side. “I came to say goodbye.”

I swallow thickly, my throat raw and aching from the effort of holding myself together. My chest feels hollow, but my voice remains steady when I nod stiffly. “I figured. Be safe.”

Something flashes painfully in his eyes, and I watch as the muscle in his jaw tightens, frustration warring with hurt. He steps even closer, invading my space until we’re nearly chest to chest.

The scent of leather and gunpowder clings to him, so familiar it makes my heart twist in agony. He’s close enough to touch, close enough that the warmth from his body radiates into mine, tempting me to reach out and grip him, beg him to stay.

But I don’t—I won’t.

Connor stares down at me, searching my eyes desperately, his voice rough and cracked when he finally speaks again. “That’s it?” he rasps, disbelief sharpening his tone. “That’s all I get?”

My pulse pounds painfully in my ears, but I force myself to meet his gaze directly. My chest tightens as I see the genuine hurt swimming behind his careful mask of indifference.

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