Page 108 of Forbidden Game

People keep moving around us, but I see nothing except the scared man in front of me. He doesn’t say a word. Doesn’t move. I keep hold as I crouch before him, sinking back on my heels. My free hand comes up to caress the side of his mask, and I stare into those blue Xs that I know hide pain.

“I’ve got you,” I whisper.

His head falls forward to rest against my own, and we stay like that for a few moments.

“I botched it, Syd.” The words are slightly slurred, and they are muffled by the mask. But even still, I hear the ache, the disappointment.

“It was one run. You’ll get it next time. And even then, if you don’t, we will try again. It doesn’t define you.”

He shakes his head, the top of the mask rubbing against my bangs. “But it does.”

“It doesn’t.”

“You don’t get it.” He rears back from me so quickly I almost fall on my ass. “It means everything.”

My brows knit in confusion. I know he is torn up over the loss. It was his first one. But this is so much more. I don’t get why it’s affecting him so strongly, why he’s letting it eat away at him. There are more chances to qualify.

I open my mouth to push but close it when I finally take note of all the people passing by us giving us odd looks.

Dammit.

“People are beginning to stare. Let’s get you back to the hotel.” I give his arm a light squeeze before pulling him to stand with me.

He tries to tug out of my grasp, but I level him with a hard glare before signaling for a nearby taxi. It takes extra effort than usual to get him inside. He’s more than a little tipsy right now, which isn’t a common occurrence for him.

We ride in silence through the traffic until we reach the Covington. I keep my expression neutral as I get him out of the car. There are still a handful of reporters camped outside, and this isn’t going to be a good look.

One of the security guards from the hotel comes to assist me, but Parker shrugs him off with a grunt and stalks into the hotel on his own. Magically, he manages to walk in a straight line and mask his slightly inebriated state.

I bite my tongue as I rush to follow him, but I make sure to mentally catalog which reporters have their cameras trained on us, to follow up with later. I stay close on Parker’s heels until we get to his hotel suite. He reaches into his pockets, searching for his key card, but comes up empty.

I sigh, pulling a copy from my handbag and scanning us inside. I’d gotten the key card from his sister when I’d come looking for him initially, just to find his hotel room empty and phone dead on the ground.

I’d only been able to locate him because Phoebe had made sure one of their security detail was following him.

We move in silence.

I go to the small fridge and pull out a bottle of water. He opens the balcony door and steps out into the night.

Parker leans against the railing, and my heart cracks in two.

I walk behind him, placing the bottle on the small outdoor table before tugging on his elbows.

He turns to face me. I reach up, the tips of my fingers grazing the sides of his mask. I push up on the balls of my feet to slide his mask off and drop it to the side.

My breath catches as I look up at the heartbreakingly beautiful man before me. Without the mask, there’s nothing to hide the raw ache falling across his face. I search his eyes, looking for an answer in the hurt.

“What happened?”

He lets out a bitter laugh and turns away from me. He grips the railing with both hands, leaning his body back. His long arms keep him from falling over as he tips his head completely back, eyes closed. His hair turns the color of moonlight as it flops in the air.

A troubled prince with a crooked crown.

“Parker, don’t shut me out. You can talk to me.” I hug my arms around myself to ward off the growing chill.

“I can’t.”

“You can.”

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