Page 36 of Keep Me

He settles on the animated movie section and says, “Pick one.”

I smile shyly and shake my head at him. “We don’t have to watch a kids movie just because I’m a big baby.”

“Just pick,” he grunts.

I then remember what he told me about watching animated movies with his mom. “Do you miss your mom?” I ask softly, knowing I’m prying and he usually hates it.

“I always miss her when I’m on the road,” he reveals, giving me a tiny sliver of himself that firmly plants itself in my heart. A grumpy, hot baseball player misses his mom? I’m fucked with this never-ending crush.

“That’s really sweet. You can pick. I’m good with any movie,” I tell him, popping a couple of cherry blasters into my mouth.

Ryker settles on Tangled, and we both munch on our snacks as the movie begins. It’s quiet for a bit because I get the feeling Ryker is not the type to talk through a movie, whereas I usually am. Whether that be reactions to things going on or asking questions out loud that no one could answer unless they’ve seen it before.

But as the movie goes on, I find myself unable not to make comments. I giggle and hum along to the songs, which pulls a grunt out of Ryker every time.

“Wow,” I breathe, watching the lamp scene in fascination. It’s beautiful and reminds me of home. The whole castle itself does. The resemblance is endearing yet a reminder of what I ran away from.

“Pretty, huh?” Ryker drawls. “Makes me wonder if actual princesses existed and stuff, would it look like this? Or would they live in a mansion?”

His rambling isn’t what instantly changes my mood, even though it is odd for him to question the legitimacy of royals.

Does he know something?

A shiver runs down my spine at the idea. How different would he treat me? Would he tell everyone and expose my secret identity here? If everyone knew who I was, would men try to get to me like they did when I was back home?

“I don’t know,” I mutter, climbing under the covers and turning on my side and away from him.

Way to be discreet, Camille, I internally chastise myself.

“What’s wrong, princess?” he asks, sounding concerned, but I choose to ignore it.

“Nothing, just tired. It’s been a long day.” I stage a yawn, having done it many times to get out of conversations at events back home. “Night, Ryker the biker.”

Ryker doesn’t respond as he continues to watch the movie, and I eventually drift off to a peaceful sleep. That is until I wake up with my throat on fire from the guttural scream that echoes out of it.

Chapter Sixteen

Ryker

Icouldn’t sleep after the movie ended, my thoughts unable to stop circling back to the girl in the bed next to mine. I thought everything was going well. We had snacks and were watching a good movie. She sang along to the songs, and usually it would annoy me with anyone else, but with her, I found it cute as hell.

Then suddenly she shut down on me, turned on her side, and went to sleep right in the middle of the movie. I wanted to ask her, but I found myself frozen, unsure what to do or what even went wrong.

When she fell asleep, I took the opportunity to put the money she gave me for the tattoo in her makeup bag. I meant it when I said I didn’t want her to pay, and the bills have been burning a hole in my wallet from the reminder of how I hurt her feelings that night.

I turn the TV off once the movie ends and grab my iPad to work on a design for one of my art classes as the quiet hum of the air conditioning fills the room.

About an hour later, Camille gasps in her sleep. I immediately drop my iPad on the comforter and look over at her with concern. Her body writhes and her head moves back and forth as her face scrunches up in fear. Her skin turns flushed, a sheen of sweat on her forehead.

She’s having a nightmare and it breaks my heart.

I’m about to wake her up when her scream pierces the previous quiet air as she thrashes underneath the blanket. Tears roll down her cheeks as she cries for help.

My fucking heart sinks and my stomach bottoms out. I hate seeing her like this, so I crouch beside her, careful not to scare her when she wakes up to my body looming over hers. I gently shake her and whisper her name, “Camille, wake up, baby. It’s just a bad dream. I’m right here.”

Camille’s silvery eyes pop open, and before I know what’s happening, she slugs me right in the jaw. I stumble back from the blow. I move my hand over to my jaw to rub at the sore spot. Fuck, the girl can throw a mean punch.

“Ah, merde,” Camille squeals, breathless as she clambers out of bed to join me on the floor between the two beds. “Ryker, are you okay?”

---