Page 9 of Keep Me

“No, that’s okay, Q.”

Quentin sits up, eyeing me speculatively. “Look at you all grown up and responsible. The high school version of you wouldn’t have said no.”

I chuckle at that because he’s not wrong. I was twenty-two now, but as a teen, I was notorious for sneaking alcohol from the liquor cabinet in the bar room in the palace. Let’s just say I wasn’t legally drinking back then. Q and I would get drunk, giggling in the gardens as we stared up at the stars and dreamed of our lives beyond the constricting walls of the palace.

“High school me was defiant because I hated being told to be proper all the time. I wanted to let loose a little. But now that I have freedom, I like taking things at my pace, you know?”

“I’m proud of you, baby sis. You’ve come a long way. I still remember chasing you around the palace, never being able to keep up with your antics,” he remarks, and the mention of life back home brings a bittersweet feeling over me.

There’s an ache behind my ribs when I think about my country and my family, but I don’t miss the pressure of being in the public eye. I always needed to look presentable or speak in a formal manner.

Let’s not forget the fashion culture. I was always dressed in designer labels and while I appreciated the beauty the designers created for me, they just weren’t me.

Now I can joke around and swear all I want, and I can dress casually without someone making a scene because a girl is in sweatpants.

And there were the countless boring meetings I had to attend. Not like the ones my parents, the king and the queen had to be a part of, but they were still boring all the same.

I did like giving back to my country. I had no problem going to events, reading stories to kids, and working in gardens at schools. But it wasn’t something I wanted to do forever, not with all the other burdens being a princess came with.

“You still can’t keep up with me,” I tease him.

Quentin laughs. “I can’t wait to tease the hell out of whatever guy you end up with. He’s in trouble.”

I was a bit of a wild child, getting into every trouble I possibly could. There was a time when I let all the chickens from a farm loose because I was bored at an event. Or when I started a dance off between Quentin and me during a charity event, with the entire crowd circling us at one point.

My father was not happy with us that day.

“Speaking of relationships, any lady I should be excited to meet soon?”

“Maybe.” He smiles with a faraway look in his hazel eyes.

I sit up, the blanket pooling around my lap. “Oh my God, are you dating someone?”

“We’re just having fun for now, that’s all.” He winks.

I let out a groan. I’m happy for him, but I don’t need details about his sex life. “Ew, get out of my apartment. Go home,” I tell him while pretending to gag.

Quentin laughs, the sound comforting. “Your apartment is technically mine, and I have nowhere else to go in the city.”

“Ugh, I hate when you’re right. Speaking of which, I’ll pay you back once I can.”

“As if I’d let you do that,” he scoffs, running a hand through his dark brown hair.

We spend the rest of the night watching a reality TV show, the ones we all claim to hate but can’t stop watching. Quentin leaves just before midnight, telling me that he’ll visit as soon as he can. I teased him and said he should bring this girl he dares not to speak of, and that earned me the world’s loudest sigh.

When I make my way into bed that night, I can’t help but be slightly jealous that he has a sex life. I haven’t been intimate with anyone ever since the incident all those years ago, not letting them get close enough to even try.

Except for Ryker. He’s the first person I’ve willingly let touch me in a long time. And I have no clue why. I’ll be seeing him tomorrow for training practice at the baseball facility for the first time since Halloween and it has my stomach churning with nerves.

We haven’t run into each other since, and I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t bummed about that. I have a huge crush on the man, so of course I was hoping to run into him from time to time, but he’s been MIA.

Pushing the thoughts aside, I do my best to settle in for bed, but thoughts of him infiltrate my brain, making it nearly impossible as butterflies fill my stomach. I may not love being a princess, but there’s something about the idea of a fairy-tale kinda love that has always intrigued me.

I want it more than anything. I love being independent and all that, but I love love. I want someone to be my partner in life. To experience the ups and downs, to laugh and challenge one another. Then make crazy love in between it all.

As I drift off to sleep, I dream of Ryker and me. We’re on the back of his bike, riding around the back country roads, zooming past orange and yellow trees. My smile is wide as I hold on to his waist.

Then suddenly, it changes.

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