“I don’t either,” I admit. “But it’s more than we’ve got. And since Mom has never tried, I can fucking guarantee he’s got less than us.”
He doesn’t say anything for a minute. We turn onto the familiar road toward the bridge.
“We went to New York,” he says at last. “That’s why I haven’t been around.”
“Oh,” I say, my brain taking a second to process the fact that some people actually leave Faulkner on occasion, that they have enough money to fly a family of four all the way to New York just to see his mom for a few days.
“You ever been?” he asks.
I snort at that. “Pretty sure you know the answer to that question.”
“You should go sometime,” he says. “You might like it.”
“Why didn’t you stay for New Years?” I ask. “I’m sure they’ve got more going than Faulkner, Arkansas.”
He shrugs. “Didn’t really keep in touch with the old crew. Nothing for me there but my family.”
“Are you trying to reassure me that you didn’t reconnect with any old flames?” I ask, grinning at him.
“No,” he says, scowling. “It’s none of your business who I fuck.”
“Well,” I say. “Since I know you’re the jealous type, I haven’t seen any old flames while you were gone, either.”
“Who the fuck calls them that?”
“Me.” I lean across the console when he pulls off the road, wrapping an arm around his neck and kissing him hard. “I missed you.”
“Me too,” he says, his hand falling on my hip as he tugs me closer, kissing me again.
Did the untouchable Royal Dolce just admit he missed me? What is even happening here?
“How’s your mom?” I ask when he pulls away and undoes his seatbelt.
“The usual,” he says, his voice edged with bitterness. “Yours?”
“Same,” I answer. “And your big brother?”
“Good,” he says. “Really good. They’re having a kid and shit.”
“What does he do?” I ask.
“He’s in security,” Royal says. “Come on. Let’s go down to the river.”
Instead of climbing in the backseat as usual, he grabs the blanket from the back of his car and opens my door.
“Are you going to try to kill me again?” I ask, climbing out.
“Not today,” he says, cracking a smile. “You?”
“I think I’ll spare you one more day,” I say, biting back my own smile.
I fucking missed him. It’s so not good. I missed him, and he’s smiling at me, and it makes my heart flip like a fucking fangirl. More and more often, I earn genuine smiles from Royal, even if they’re small. I treasure each one. I know it’s stupid, that I’m losing sight of the goal, but they’re so damn addictive. He’s so damn addictive.
At least I know the feeling is mutual. He seems as caught up in it as I am.
He takes my hand and pulls me under the bridge, as far away from the water as we can get. He ducks down under the supports overhead to spread the blanket.
“Why here?” I ask, sinking onto the blanket. “Is this where you take all your hookups, or does it have some significance?”