Page 72 of Royal Games (The Royals of Monterra)

“I tried to leave you alone. I figured if you wanted to see me, you would contact me. I stayed away for as long as I could, until I couldn’t spend another moment away from you. So I moved here to be near you. But it’s time for me to stop being selfish. Tell me to leave, and I will.”

The thought of him going, the very thing I had said I wanted all along, terrified me. His voice fell lower, and he was practically whispering the words. “But if you think there’s any chance at all that someday you might forgive me, then let me stay and earn back your trust and your love.”

My skin shimmered with heat from the nearness of his lips to mine. I wanted to totally surrender, completely give in. To agree to whatever he said, forget whatever I had to forget.

But that was while I was under the influence. Because, a second later, there was a loud banging at the cabin door. Rafe reluctantly got up to open it, and when he moved away my sanity returned. Outside stood a very anxious Marco, and they began a rapid conversation in Italian.

I got up to collect our things and return the quilt to the bed. Gianni had parked the SUV practically on the front porch, so we wouldn’t be out in the cold for long. With Marco still talking, Rafe poured a pitcher of water on the fire he’d worked so hard to light, and white billowing smoke went straight up the chimney. It was as if my hurt and worries had evaporated with it.

Pondering his offer, I ran through a list of all the reasons he should go. But none of them held much weight anymore. I thought of all the practical reasons he should stay. Sylvia and I needed his rent. The town needed his business—so many families were now dependent on him.

But that’s not what moved me. That’s not what tugged on my heartstrings.

We settled into the back of his bodyguards’ black SUV. The two men up front were listening to what sounded like a soccer game, but it was in Italian. Rafe had his head tilted, as if he was trying to catch the game, too.

“Rafe,” I whispered.

He immediately gave me his full attention. “Yes?”

This was huge. Monumental. Scary and risky, but it was what I wanted. I would have to take that leap and have faith.

So I just said it.

“There’s a chance.”

Chapter 22

Things had changed. Maybe not the way Rafe had hoped or wanted, but it was going to be a process. I couldn’t just get over it. We had to navigate how to go down a new path together.

I was surprised that he hadn’t tried to kiss me. But he was a man of his word, and I had to ask first. Despite wanting to, I didn’t. The adult part of me wanted to figure things out without his drugging kisses influencing me.

The hormonal teenager side of me thought the adult part was an idiot.

But there were hungry, lingering looks, and a lot more touching and holding. I’d asked him to keep that sort of stuff between us, but we lived in a small town. And the thing about living in a small town—even when you don’t know what you’re doing, everybody else does.

They all knew right away that things had changed. And they teased me relentlessly. Even Max had altered his jokes to include things that pertained to Rafe. Like how he played polo. “Did you hear Iowa State had to disband their water polo team? All the horses drowned.”

Aunt Sylvia couldn’t have been happier. And whether those glowing smiles were due to her nearly nightly dates with Max, or what was happening between me and Rafe, I didn’t know.

A week later, while Aunt Sylvia was out playing gin with her girlfriends, I was running a raid with my guild. The guild master, a guy I only knew as Kamro, sent me a whisper in-game. He said he’d found a shaman healer named Hatchet with a super high item level.

And Hatchet knew what he was doing. I didn’t have to spend half the time using cooldowns to keep myself alive. After we’d one-shotted the first boss, everybody was celebrating. I typed in the guild chat:

Great job, new healer! That was crazy easy!

Hatchet responded.

Thanks, Eclipse. You know what they say. You can’t fight the moonlight.

“What?” I yelled, slamming my hands on my desk. What did Rafe think he was doing? I thought we were done with the deceptions. I was going to ... I didn’t know what I was going to do. Something bad. Possibly physical.

Why didn’t he just tell me before? He had to have known I would figure it out when he used my mom’s phrase. A long time ago I had told him my user name and that I played on the Doomhammer server. If I had known then he had a memory like a steel trap, I would have been more careful about what I shared. I ran downstairs, through the kitchen, and across the yard to throw open the door to Rafe’s house.

He sat on the couch with his computer on his lap. “I’m no expert on American law, but I believe you aren’t allowed to just walk into someone’s house without permission. Isn’t that called breaking and entering?”

Rafe was being playful, but I was annoyed. “I didn’t break anything. I just entered. And I’m allowed because it’s my house.”

“Not according to the lease.”

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