Page 21 of Regal Queen

I needed a distraction.

I put the glass in the kitchen sink, then wandered towards the living room. All the walls in the penthouse were made of a tinted glass, and the New York cityscape glimmered beyond it. It was amazing the way the never-ending lights cast a ethereal glow over the landscape.

I walked up to the window and stared out at the droplets of rain hitting the glass, then sliding down it.

Being in this place, surrounded by glass and concrete, was suffocating. I needed to be free. To step out into the rain and let it wash away the stench and filth of Dimitri’s shadow.

To cleanse myself of my past and the painful memories that came with it.

I’d always loved the rain, something about it soothing and purifying.

"Are you okay?

My shoulders jumped and a small squeak escaped me. I turned to see dark blue piercing eyes staring at me in the darkness.

Fuck. Why was Bourbon so damn silent all the time? And watching. Always watching.

“You scared me."

He lifted a shoulder. "I didn't want to disturb you."

He had a miniature ceramic elephant in his hand. When I noticed it, he wrapped his fingers around it, then it disappeared into his pocket.

I took in his haggard state. The way his tie was wretched from his neck, the top button undone to show the fine lines of his collar, revealing the hollow of his throat. His hair was tossed, as if he’d been running his hand through it. His shirt sleeve was rolled up, his jacket cast to the side of the couch.

It was the most unkept I’d seen him.

He looked exhausted, and I wondered if he'd slept at all this past few days.

We hadn’t spoken since we'd arrived here. As soon as we landed, he was busy setting up a place for us to stay and making sure we had security. The whole time, he’d been cold, emotionless. Walled up and businesslike.

The truth was, his coldness towards me hadn’t started since we arrived in New York but ever since that day he lay in my bed and told me the truth about my family. My real family.

He’d always found something to do any time I approached him. He rarely spoke to me directly but looked at everyone else, anyone else, when he spoke to the room. He was never available when I wanted to talk to him but yet, every single night I'd awoken to find him watching me.

His eyes burning into me, taking in my body curled up to Coulter.

I’d wanted him in the bed with me.

Something had changed between Coulter and me, shifted.

We had bonded over our injuries and healing together, growing closer as we'd talked and slept together. He’d told me about what happened after I was gone, how he’d struggled to even breathe. How much pain he’d been in. How devoted Bourbon was in Coulter's healing, yet, was still torn because Bourbon’d wanted to leave to rescue me.

We'd hugged a lot and yet, it was almost... platonic.

A closeness that couldn't be explained to others but was somehow understood without speaking it out loud.

We were friends who offered each other comfort, and nothing more.

We were both holding on to a lot of pain, something that he was helping me with because Bourbon had been so chilly towards me.

When that happened, Coulter saw right through my carefully composed behavior to the pain of Bourbon’s rejection. Coulter would pull me into his lap and whisper in my ear like a lover about how big of an asshole Bourbon was. It made me laugh through the pain.

We loved each other, in a way, but we didn't long for each other. Not like before.

Not like I still longed for Bourbon.

The very thought of his eyes watching me made my body burn to be touched by him again.

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