Page 20 of Royal Crush

For a long beat, he just met my gaze. Then, after a heavy breath, he shook his head. “Not really. I mean, not in the traditional sense. I didn’t want to take drugs. I didn’t want to drink. People realized all that crap calmed me down and got me to show up on time and recite all the lines they gave me. It was easier to keep me complacent that way.”

“I guess it makes sense that you just kept going as an adult,” I told him.

He looked shattered as he shook his head. “No. Ididn’t. Okay, I did drink a lot for a while. Right after I turned twenty-five and realized it was going to take a miracle for me to get my life back. I had a couple of dark years. But, um…it didn’t happen the way everyone thinks it did.”

My insides squirmed. I didn’t want to feel sorry for him. I didn’t want to feelanythingfor him. But he was charming. Good-looking, sure, but there was something else about him. Something a little lonely and hurt and lost. It was too familiar.

“Let’s keep walking,” I suggested.

His sadness melted as his smirk appeared. “You’re the one who stopped.”

I turned and gave my chair a hard push, forcing him to jog to keep up with me. “Ask me whatever else was on your mind. I know you didn’t just realize people stared at me.”

He coughed out a laugh as he finally matched my pace, and to take pity on him, I slowed. A little. “I have a sex scene in the third episode. We’re filming that right after we reshoot episode one.”

I knew this topic was going to come up. “Do they always shoot out of order?”

He shrugged. “Sometimes. I mean, it depends on how long each season is and the availability of the people who aren’t inthe main cast. Every studio I’ve worked with reshoots the pilot if they don’t need to wait for ratings—which we don’t anymore. Something I still need to get used to, but it’s a little nuts. You’ll realize how different it is when you sit down to actually watch it.”

I almost choked on my own tongue. “I’m not going to watch it.”

He stopped and turned to stare at me. “Really?”

Lifting a brow, I gave him a challenging stare. “Would you, if you were me?”

Our gazes were locked for several breaths, and then his shoulders sagged a little, and he shrugged, resuming his pace. “I guess not. I don’t really like watching myself as it is. It would be kind of awful if I was acting out my own life.”

“So my answer makes sense.”

He laughed again, and it annoyed me just how much I liked the sound. “Yeah. It does.”

I took a breath. “So, back to what you were saying. The sex.”

“Right.” He cleared his throat. “Obviously, you have sex.”

“Isthat obvious?”

“Apart from the fact that you’re one of the best-looking men I’ve ever seen,” he said, then flushed almost like he hadn’t meant to say that aloud, “I also read your book. Youhavehad sex. You just…didn’t go into a lot of detail.”

“I didn’t want my book to become the topic of some devotee book club.”

“Devotee?” I looked at him. “Sorry, I only understood like two-thirds of that sentence.”

I snorted and spied a bench as we rounded the path near the fountain. I gestured to the seat, and he shot me a grateful smile as I rolled up next to it. He sat, leaving me space, which almost made me laugh.

“You know I come with a built-in place to sit, right?”

His blush darkened, this time his ears going pink. “Sorry. Uh…I thought. Well. Some stuff I read said sometimes people like to get out of their wheelchairs when they’re hanging out with friends. Or, you know, random actors they don’t like very much.”

I almost chuckled. His self-deprecating humor was obviously a defense mechanism, but he was funny. “It’s easier for me not to move. My core strength sucks.” I patted my stomach, which was and always would be soft and squishy. My injury was too high for me to ever have abs.

“Okay, so,” he said, drawing me back to the topic. I appreciated he didn’t want to talk about the disability fetish weirdos who were always in my periphery. “Sex is…different now, right?”

I shrugged. “I don’t have a lot to compare it to. Before my accident, I had four crappy handjobs by a closeted jock and maybe a year and a half of furious masturbating under my belt. I have orgasms now, but they don’t feel the same as they used to. I’m sure you know what I mean.”

“Like a slightly more satisfying sneeze?” Aleric asked.

I couldn’t help but raise my brow again. “You’ve had terrible partners if that’s what coming feels like for you.”

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