Page 32 of Shameless Royalty

Why does it matter that he was gone?

Why do I feel like I can’t breathe when he’s too close, and can’t think straight when he’s not?

I stop by the window, leaning against the sill and staring out at the darkened estate. Somewhere out there, Connor’s probably back to whatever the hell he does when he’s not tormenting me.Laughing, flirting, living his stupidly cocky life without a care in the world.

Meanwhile, I’m stuck here, trying to untangle this mess of feelings that shouldn’t even exist.

Because let’s be real; this is more than irritation. It’s more than frustration or anger or any of the many other things I’ve been pretending it is. This is something else, something deeper, something that scares the absolute shit out of me.

I feel something for Connor. And I hate it.

I hate the way my stomach twists when he smirks at me. I hate the way my heart races when he gets too close or when his voice drops low and teasing, like he’s daring me to admit I feel it too. I hate the way he makes me feel seen, like he knows exactly who I am and doesn’t care how messy it is.

And most of all, I hate that I can’t stop thinking about him, no matter how hard I try.

I take off my glasses and throw them on the bed, then run my hands down my face, groaning. “Get a grip,” I mutter to myself. “He’s just messin’ with you. That’s what he does. It doesn’t mean anythin’.”

But deep down, I know that’s not true. Connor’s messing with me, sure—but there’s something else there, something in the way he looks at me when he thinks I’m not paying attention. Something in the way he came back tonight, even though he didn’t have to.

I grab the tray, shoving a piece of toast into my mouth more to shut myself up than because I’m hungry. The food’s good, but it doesn’t help. Nothing does.

I need to figure this out. Not just what Connor’s doing to me, but why it’s affecting me like this. Why, every time he walks into the room, it feels like the ground shifts under my feet. And why, every time he leaves, I feel like I’m falling.

But how the hell am I supposed to do that when I can’t even admit the truth to myself?

I like men. I’ve always liked men, but I can’t ever bring myself to act on my impulses. I’ve been trapped in this “prison” for all of two months and Connor has already attempted to expose that side of me.

To be honest, I don’t know how long I can keep up the pretense. Before all of this, I just never had friends and kept my distance from everyone, but now temptation is literally trying to drag me down.

And fuck, why did temptation have to look like Connor?

Chapter 19

Connor

Thephonebuzzesonthe nightstand, rattling against the wood. I groan, dragging a hand over my face before grabbing it. Mihai’s name flashes on the screen. Figures. The bastard always knows the worst time to call.

“Don’t you sleep, mate?” I answer, my voice rough from too many restless nights.

“Connor,” Mihai says, ignoring the jab entirely. His voice is clipped, like he’s all business. “Are you coming back to Willow Bridge in January?”

I sit up, rubbing the back of my neck. “No.”

There’s a pause, and I can practically hear the way his jaw tightens. “Why the hell not?”

“Let’s just say I’ve got my hands full,” I reply, glancing toward the window. The thought of Malachi flashes in my mind, uninvited but persistent. “Accordin’ to Da, Malachi’s my mission now.”

There’s a pause on the other end before Mihai speaks again, his tone carefully neutral. “Malachi Dawson.”

“That’s the one,” I say, running a hand through my hair. “His old man’s mess landed him here, so Da thinks keepin’ him locked up is the key to stoppin’ more bullshite.”

“You sound… thrilled,” Mihai remarks dryly.

“Ecstatic,” I mutter. “The kid’s a bloody pain in the ass. Won’t stop mouthin’ off, but he’s got no bite to back it up.”

“Sounds familiar,” Mihai says, and I can practically hear the smirk on his face.

“Oi,” I shoot back. “I back up my bark just fine, thank you.”

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