Page 16 of Royal Crush

“And yet, it’s written all over your face.” He rolled forward until his legs bumped mine, jostling me hard enough to send nerve pain sparking through my lower limbs. “Spill. There’s someone you’re interested in, and don’t say Roget. I know you don’t actually like him.” Of course he’d bring up my hookup. Everyone knew Roget about as well as I did.

“You know for a fact there’s no one. The only people interested in fucking me are curious about my family, my title, or my legs. Or they’re bored and want something to do. None of those things are sexy.”

“Speak for yourself. My legs could have their own OnlyFans.” He reached down and gave his thin calf a slap.

“Whatever floats your boat doesn’t mean it floats mine.” I was starting to feel irritated, but I didn’t want to take it out on him. “Look, I should go. Obviously, you all don’t need me, and I really don’t want to bring down the mood.”

I started for the door, but Erik sped up after me and grabbed the back of my seat, hauling me to a stop. “Hey, wait. I’m sorry. I know this is all absolutely fucking shit. I was just joking.”

Bowing my head, I took a deep breath and nodded. “No, I know. But I might just go full turtle for a while until I figure out how to compartmentalize this mess.”

“You know if you need me?—”

“I know,” I interrupted quietly. I grabbed one wheel and turned to face him. “Thanks. I appreciate that you get it.”

“Everyone here does. You have more family than you think.”

He’d been saying that for years now, and I wanted to embrace it, but I was terrified to let people in. To let them close. I’d been used too many times, and I was tired of being seen as some guy in a magazine cover.

The Second-Born Prince. No name. No individuality. Just a figure with no real purpose.

“I still think I’m gonna head out. Thanks for listening to me.”

“You didn’t do much talking,” Erik pointed out.

I had nothing to say to that. Not really. “See you next week?”

He shrugged, and I knew I was going to have to address this with him eventually, but he was kind enough to let me spin and head out of the room without calling me on my bullshit. Making my way down the corridor, I bypassed the gym and felt a little better about rolling into the locker room without having a crowd of people behind me.

I transferred to the bench in front of my locker to change, not bothering with a shower, considering I hadn’t broken evena drop of sweat, and as I was shifting back into my chair, my phone began to buzz several times in succession.

No one ever texted me besides Erik and occasionally Roget, so my heart picked up a few extra beats as I fished it out of my bag and thumbed open the screen.

Aleric: I finished the book.

Aleric: You were right. I should have read this earlier.

Aleric: I’m sorry.

Aleric: I’m also sorry I keep hitting enter instead of sending one long text.

Aleric: I also have about a million questions. Can we meet up soon? I can probably ask everything on set, but I think I’d like to talk before we begin filming.

Aleric: I have a fitting tomorrow at noon. Otherwise I’m free.

Me: A fitting for what?

Aleric: I feel like shit for saying this. Wheelchair fitting.

Me: I can meet you after. Send me the time and where and I can schedule my driver.

Aleric: Your driver. You’re such a fucking prince.

I laughed. I had no idea know why. In school, kids would call me that to bully me. In the bedroom, men had called me prince—sometimes princess—because they thought it turned me on. It didn’t, but I usually let them. My parents often sneered prince at me as if to remind me who and what I was.

For the first time ever, the royal title didn’t set me on edge. I was still grinning when I put my phone back in my bag and hooked it on the back of my chair’s very low, discreet handles. I headed out while I could still hear practice going, and I spotted my guard and my driver near the edge of the curb. Cillian was smoking a cigarette while Aleks was tossing the car keys up in the air and catching them over and over.

Cillian dropped the butt he’d finished and smudged it out with the tip of his shoe. I was suddenly reminded of the first time I’d seen Aleric. It was days before I knew that it was him. A sexy but infuriating man sitting outside, and I had been angry at what? Him existing?

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