Page 135 of Frozen Hearts
“Just like I know it’s complicated between you and Royce.”
His voice is carefully neutral, making me curious enough that I turn to face him again, studying his face to see what he makes of that.
“I haven’t slept with Royce,” I tell him, needing him to know that.
His eyes search mine. “But you want to.”
“There's chemistry there,” I admit warily. “Whatever it is, though, it’s purely physical.”
He arches an eyebrow. “Is it?”
“I’m certain it is on his end.”
“And on yours?”
I shrug. “I don’t think it matters, given the predicament we’re all in.”
He sighs, shifting so we’re sitting side by side instead of staring at one another. “Things will improve, Riley. They won’t always be like this.”
Moving so I can rest my head on his arm perched on the edge of the tub, I murmur, “All you can do is keep moving forward.”
* * *
“There’s got to be something else we can do around here other than watch TV,” I complain.
It’s been several days since Grayson chased me into the fields, and he’s been AWOL ever since, leaving me alone with either Logan or Royce for company when I haven’t been at work. It’s actually been nice. I’m not sure what is going on in Royce’s head because trying to interpret anything he doesn’t want you to know is like trying to read Sanskrit. Still, he hasn’t been opposed, or even frowned, whenever he’s come in and seen me and Logan sprawled out on the couch watching TV, and I know he’s seen me going into and emerging from Logan’s room each morning and night, yet he hasn’t said a word. Which leads me to believe he’s not on my side like Logan is, but he’s not entirely on Grayson’s either. He’s floating in no man’s land, trying to stay clear of the shit that is currently flying everywhere.
I’ve been working the last couple of nights, so today is my first full day off in a few days, and honestly, I’m bored. If I was at home, I’d be getting ahead in my schoolwork or cleaning the apartment and doing laundry, but there isn’t any of that for me to do here.
It’s just me and Royce in the house while Grayson is doing who knows what, and Logan had a final training session before everyone goes home for Christmas; apparently, all Royce wants to do is watch Supernatural reruns.
“There isn’t,” Royce drawls, not once looking away from the TV as I pace the floor in front of him. I’m getting antsy being cooped up inside, and the closer we get to Christmas Day, the more anxious I become.
“Can I see your drawings?” I ask, spinning to face him.
“No.”
I push my lower lip out in a pout. “Why not?”
Removing his gaze from the television, he stares up at me. “Then I want to see you dance.Properlydance. Not the shit you do upstairs or at the club.”
I bristle. “No.” I do that for me. Sometimes people watch or can’t help but see if they’re walking past on the street or if Ava is around, but mostly, I dance for me. I don’t want Royce to see that. To see me so exposed. When I dance, it’s akin to stripping myself bare, and honestly, I’d feel more comfortable walking around naked in front of him.
He arches an eyebrow in asee, we don’t like to have our secrets laid bare way.
Crossing my arms over my chest, I counter, “What if we play for it?”
He chuckles. “Play what, Babydoll?”
I quirk my lips. “Do you know how to play Gin Rummy?”
“Sure. Doyou?”
I give him an innocent shrug of my shoulder. “Guess you’ll find out. Are you in?”
He snorts under his breath, and I can already tell by the sly tilt of his lips that he thinks he’s won. “Sure, James. Let me find a pack of cards.”
We move to the kitchen, settling at the table while he shuffles the playing cards. “So, if I win, I get to see one of your drawings,” I state.
