Page 68 of Royals
The sound is warm and soft, and I swear I can feel it, dancing over the knobs of my spine. Oh my god, this rain needs to endsoon.
“Maybe not better, but certainly not worse,” he says, and then I look at him, which is a mistake.
There’s no fighting it this time. Miles is not just cute. He’shot.
And he’s looking at me in a way I don’t understand, or don’t want to understand because no, no, no, this isnota complication I need right now. Besides, I’m leaving in a few weeks anyway. Why start something that has such a fast expiration date?
Breaking the spell, I stand, letting the quilt drop back to the ground. I chafe my hands up and down my arms as I ask, “So that’s why you do it? Family tradition demands that if the palace says jump, you say how high?”
I wait for Miles to scowl at me, but he just leans back against the wall and sighs.
“They’re paying my tuition,” he says. “Seb’s family. They’re paying for me to go to St. Andrew’s next year.”
I don’t really know what to say to that. I knew Miles was really loyal to the Bairds—obviously—but I thought it was more about friendship than the whole courtier deal.
“And not just that,” Miles goes on, “but the apartment in Edinburgh? That’s on their dime as well. Plus last year, my mum was sick—she’s fine now—but it was serious for a while. Sheneeded private hospitals, specialists, all that, and I think they paid her hospital bills.”
“Miles,” I say softly, and he meets my eyes. All of this has come out in the lightest tone, like he’s just casually relaying some information, but his gaze is serious.
“I just want you to understand,” he says. “I owe them... everything. Everything.”
Pushing off from the wall, he tosses his hat to the chair by the door. “That’s why I was such a prat to you that first night.”
“To be fair, you’ve been a prat basically the entire time I’ve known you,” I say, and Miles gives the littlest smile. His hair is drying a bit in the heat from the fire, and it’s curling, turning a deep-gold color, shadows playing over his high cheekbones.
“I have,” he admits. “And I’m sorry. Truly.”
Swallowing hard, I wave that off. Now is not the time to start becoming friends, not when I’ve just realized he’s super good-looking and there’s rain and firelight and just the two of us, miles from anyone.
But I still can’t help but say, “It’s not like you haven’t done a lot for Seb. You keep him out of trouble. Well, as much as anyone can, I guess,” I amend, and Miles nods.
“It’s a big job for one man.”
I look back at Miles. “I’m just saying, yes, they’ve done a lot for you. But it’s not like it’s a one-way street.”
He’s watching me again. He really needs to stop with that because my toes are curling in my boots, my heart jumping around, and my face is burning.
“Thank you,” he says softly, and then, maybe feeling asweirded out as I do, he moves to sit down in front of the fire, taking my discarded quilt and making a little pallet there by the hearth. He sits, drawing his knees up and wrapping his arms around them, and after a second, I sit next to him.
Not too close, of course.
We sit in silence, watching the fire for a while, before I plant my hands on the quilt, leaning back a little. “Do you think Glynnis had someone shoot out our tire?”
Miles laughs, shaking his head. “I wouldn’t put it past her. She’s a bit mercenary, ol’ Glynn.”
“Oh my god,pleasetell me you have called her ‘ol’ Glynn’ to her face.”
“I have not, as I enjoy having my tongue actually in my mouth and not mounted to her wall.”
Crossing my legs, I turn to face him more fully. “I will give you a million dollars if you do it,” I tell him, and he looks over, tilting his head to one side.
“A million dollars?”
“A million dollarsorwhat I currently have in my wallet back at the house, which I think is, like, five pounds in your weird Monopoly money.”
“Tell you what,” he says, putting his hands down on the quilt to lean back a little, “I will call Glynnis ‘ol’ Glynn’ if you promise to drink a Pimm’s Cup. No, not drink,chug.”
I screw up my face, sticking my tongue out. “Blargh.”
