Page 59 of Royally Bad

There was space inside, but I wanted to be alone.

Kneeling lower, I grunted as Sammy climbed over my head. It was mildly uncomfortable, but Ididget nice and close to her delicious ass, so who was I to complain? She offered me my cone; I took it, quickly licking at some of the melting spots. “Huh, this is good.”

“Told you,” she said, sitting on the bench. Her eyes were low, focused on her snack as she kicked one foot like a giddy kid. She didn’t say it out loud, but I was sure I’d cheered her up with my ridiculous actions.

“So,” she said, wagging the ice cream side to side. “Is ‘Badd’ the normal surname for a rich, famous, andoh-so-royalfamily?”

Laughing in my throat, I said, “No. My father came here a long while ago. He didn’t want to fight with his family back in his home country over who would rule there. Our actual last name is different.” Going over-the-top with my enunciation, I said,“Kain Fredrickson.Less of a ring to it than Badd, if you ask me.”

“Huh. How’d he get away with changing that?”

“He was always rich, but my mother ... she’s part of the Cassava family. They’re wealthy as well, but she gave him a lot of connections in this state. Together, they’ve got power, and power can make hiding your identity very easy.” On reflex, I touched my ribs where the crown tattoo was.

She watched me intently, her eyes glinting. “Francesca told me about that ink you all have.”

Ice cream dripped onto my leg; I wiped it away quickly. “Did she really?”Fucking hell, Sis.What were secrets worth these days?

“I guess it’s one way to make sure you remember your history, if you don’t have your last name to track it back.”

Shrugging, I threw the last bit of waffle cone at a nearby can. It bounced off the rim, falling inside. “It’s a silly tradition, not one worth fighting.”

Sammy looked like she wanted to say something. Instead, she licked the cold vanilla in her hands and went quiet.

We perched on that bench for some time. The quiet was comfortable—thoughtful. Both of us had a lot to weigh and measure when it came to what we were doing.

I looked down at her. The top of her head was at my shoulder, her eyelashes downcast and creating gentle shadows on her cheeks. “Are you okay?” I asked.

She smiled to herself. “Yeah. I mean—yeah. I think I’m just enjoying this more than I expected to.” Hopping off the bench, she wiped sticky palms on her trousers.

“Don’t be so shocked, I’m a super fun guy.” Grinning, I followed her to the bike. Sammy gathered herself as if she was going to tease me in return. Instead she just climbed onto the motorcycle, hiding under the helmet wordlessly.

Settling in front of her, I had to wonder ...

Was she hiding from me?

The drive back was faster somehow. Probably because I didn’t want it to end. I had an awful sense that something was coming, and to avoid it, I just had to keep riding. It was getting dark, my headlights illuminating the way. Pulling through the gates, I kept going, pushing a button on my keys to make the garage open.

Inside, I guided my bike to a corner away from the other vehicles. Throwing down the kickstand, I turned to say ... something. Sammy met me there, her mouth hungry and tasting like vanilla.

“Thanks,” she said, breaking away. “For everything. Tonight was nice.”

“Nice?” I teased. My hand slid up her knee. “I don’t think that’s the right word.”

Pushing me away, she hopped down, but she didn’t leave. Looking up at me so that the glaring white bulbs lit up her face, she said, “I’m serious. Thank you.”

I readied another joke. “You’re welcome.” That wasn’t what was supposed to come out.

She rocked on her heels, smiling as she backed up to the inner door. “I’ll go upstairs. Real sneaky-like, so no one sees me.”

My shrug was barely there. “They know we left. You can’t trick them.”

Sammy froze, her hand on the exit that connected the garage to the main house. “Wait, if you knew they’d find out, why did you take me?”

“I didn’t want to see you sad.” It was such a simple answer to a complicated situation.

Blushing, she ducked her head. “That’s not your problem.”

“It shouldn’t be,” I said somberly. “But it is.”

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