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Royally Not Ready(56)

Author:Meghan Quinn

“Keller, you’re going to have an anxiety attack.” She hops off the bed and stops me, both her hands to my bare chest now. “Look at me. In the eyes. Look at me.”

My gaze falls to hers, and in that moment, staring down at her iridescent eyes, I feel a warmth spread and crash into the frigid chill of my heart. Not sure I would’ve recognized that feeling before tonight, before our time on the roof, but I recognize it now.

Her palm cups my cheek and I find myself leaning in to her touch, leaning in to her strength. “I’m okay, Keller. Do you hear me?”

I swallow hard, as a hint of relief etches through me. “Yes,” I choke out.

“Okay, good. Now”—she takes my hand in hers and brings me back to the bed, where we both take a seat—“we need to check on you. Are you okay?”

Exhaustion hits me all at once as the adrenaline fades away. “Yeah. I think so.”

“Do you want to talk about it?”

I shake my head. “No.”

Her hand smooths over my arm. “Was it about your parents?”

“Yeah,” I answer quietly.

“Enough said.” She scoots in even closer, leaving nothing between us. And I like it, I want her even closer, I want her in my arms. I want . . . I want another hug. “I get those dreams at times, and I realize the need to not talk about it. Do you want to talk about something else?”

I shake my head. “No, I’m good. I should get you back to bed.” I rise from the mattress and hold my hand out to her. To my luck, she takes it, and I walk her through our shared bathroom to her room. I pull back the covers of her bed and help her onto the mattress. When she’s seated, I move the covers over her legs and take a step back.

“I’m sorry for waking you.”

“You don’t have to apologize. I get it, Keller.”

“Okay, well . . . get some sleep.”

“Do you . . .” She bites her bottom lip and then asks, “Do you want to lie down with me?”

Yes.

I want you to continue to stroke my heart.

Stare into your eyes.

Feel your comforting warmth. Get lost in it.

I want to replicate that embrace, but in your bed, our limbs tangled together.

Because . . . because I think I fucking like you, and I have no idea how to deal with those emotions.

“That’s not necessary,” I answer. “I’ll see you in the morning.”

Before I do something really stupid, like climb into bed with her, I turn on my heel and go back to my bedroom, where I turn off the light, lie in bed, and stare up at the ceiling.

She’s not supposed to see weakness in me.

She’s not supposed to be scared of me.

She’s not supposed to worry about me.

I’m fucking up. I have a job to do. Get Lilly Campbell to want to stay in our country and assume the throne. And nothing about that means I have the right to touch her, let alone hold her.

Get it the fuck together.

Chapter Eleven

LILLY

“Okay, where are we studying today?” I ask Keller, who’s standing stoically in the living room.

He gestures to the dungeon—I mean lecture room. “Where we normally study.”

“What?” I ask. “But . . . I thought after yesterday we were livening things up.” I give my shoulders a slight shimmy.

“We’ll be in the room, Lilly,” he says, ignoring my shimmy and attempt to lighten the obvious morose mood he’s in. “Let’s get a move on.”

Move on?

Okay, this morning when we were on our run and he was silent most of the time, I chalked it up to maybe a rough night of sleep and didn’t bother him.

And at breakfast, when he didn’t even look at me, I let him off easy, because maybe he was thinking about what we were going over today.

But now, no way, this is unacceptable.

I follow him into the room, and when he shuts the door, I spin on him, hands on my hips, and say, “What the hell is going on?”

“What do you mean?” he asks, still avoiding eye contact as he moves around the room.

“I mean, you’re being weird and I want to know why.”

“I’m not being weird, Lilly. Now take a seat, we have a lot to go over.”

“Keller, will you just look at me?”

His shoulders drop and he lifts his head, his eyes meeting mine. “What?”

“Last night, we had fun, you even said you did. I thought we connected on a different level. And now, well . . . it feels like you’re pulling away, and I don’t know why. Did I do something wrong?”

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