“But—”
Royce glares at her. “Leave, Bea.”
Bea’s eyes fly between Royce and me, and I see the images flash over her eyes without her even displaying them. We’ve gotten that all our life, people assuming there’s something more to Royce and me than what there is.
“Fine. Call me?”
“Never,” he says bluntly, and then turns back to me and points to his bike. “Get on.” Sighing, I swing my leg over the back and press myself against his back. His bike is loud enough to make you fucking deaf. He rides us out of the gates as they split open, before gunning it down the street and onto the highway. The air whips through the loose strands of my hair, an easy smile on my face. I will never admit it to Royce, but I love riding on the back of his bike.
Thirty minutes later, we’re pulling up to campus, the bike echoing through the empty streets as he comes up to the dorms. He cuts the bike off and pauses as I swing my leg off while removing his helmet. I squeeze the cord in my hand, ready to hand it back to him and leave. The air is quiet, with just him and I standing so close. So intimate.
“I couldn’t bring you with me.” His voice is low, soft. As if he didn’t want to say the words, but knew he needed to give me something. “There’s a fucking lot that you don’t know, Duchess. I couldn’t have you around me. I couldn’t take you. I knew you’d be safe at home.”
My heart snaps in my chest. “Oh how uncanny,” I whisper, fighting the tears that are battling to burst down my cheeks. If I cry, I know it will be all over and he’ll fight me until I tell him what I’m hiding. “You’re not the only one with secrets, Royce.”
He tilts his head, the veins in his neck swelling to the surface. “What’s that supposed to mean, Jade?” I don’t miss the bite in his tone. “See, when you say shit like that, it makes me want to kill people. Do you understand my problem here?”
“You’re too pretty for jail?” I joke sadly, smirking.
“No.” His eyes fall to my lips when my tongue slides over them. “I never get caught.”
I hand him the helmet, and my heart explodes when his hand comes to mine. He could have grabbed it anywhere else, but he chose the exact area where my hand was to take it. My teeth sink into the inside of my cheek, tasting blood. I need to distract myself from doing something like expose the affect Royce has on me. “Night, Roy.”
I pull my hand away from his first, sliding out beneath it while catching one of his heavy rings.
His eyes stay on mine. “Night, Duchess.”
I quickly make my way up to the dorms, fighting the urge to turn back around and do something stupid like ask him to take me anywhere but here, but I have to remember that he’s not the same boy. At times, I see the old Royce, but then I remember where we are now, how our lives are so different, how even when we were kids, he never looked at me like anything other than a fucking nuisance.
Once I’m safe and back in my dorm, I hear his bike start and pull away. I go to sleep that night wishing life was different.
I wake the next morning with memories of last night flashing inside of my head and my phone ringing on the ground. I blindly reach for it, quickly swiping it to answer.
“Hello?”
“Oh, thank god! You’re alive!” Sloane yells on the other end. “Tell me everything.”
I groan, covering my closed eyes with the palm of my hand. “I don’t know. We went back to the clubhouse and he brought me home. What happened to you last night?”
Sloane exhales. “Ollie and I had a fight.”
“You don’t say…” I roll my eyes, reaching for the curtain and ripping it open. The only way I’m going to get out of bed this morning is if the sun beams through my windows. I’m shit out of luck because it’s goddamn raining. Sighing, I close the curtains again. “Why did you fight?” Even though I know why. They’re too alike.
“He just got really drunk and started going off on everyone, so I tried to stop him and well, in short, I shouldn’t have.”
Sighing, I massage my temples and swing my legs over my bed. “Are you okay?”
“Always. Hey, are you working tonight?”
“It’s Saturday, you know I always do.” For years now, Sloane has been under the impression that I work from home for my parents. She’s bought it. I made up a whole bunch of shit saying that I work for the company, trading numbers for work experience. I wish that was what I really was doing.