Page 65 of Royal Rising

But I want Kalle. I’ve always wanted him and I don’t know what to do about it if he only thinks I’m good for the country.

20

Kalle

She finishes her sandwichand now there’s nothing to do but to go to bed.

I know I should talk to Edie about what my father said. She’s the person I go to when I need to get something off my chest, but it doesn’t seem right when she’s part of what I need to get off my chest.

I can talk to her about Fenella because there’s nothing there. Maybe there was never anything there but a mild attraction. Two good-looking people finding their way together.

I hope she’ll be happy with her rock star.

As for me, I check on Dillon while Edie uses the washroom.

The power is still off and she insists we blow out the candles. She lends me a toothbrush, but I can still taste the peanut butter, and I forgot Edie likes the all-natural kind that doesn’t have enough salt or flavour.

Plus, these pants aretight. I pull off the sweatshirt before I crawl under the covers, but that’s not an option for the pants. Being naked in bed with Edie would be a first, and if that were to happen, her clothes would have to be gone too, and there wouldn’t be much sleeping going on.

There needs to be sleep tonight because Edie, her head on the pillow, is looking at me with eyes that are heavy and purple-shadowed. We leave the curtains open to get whatever light there is and it’s just enough for me to make out the planes of her face.

“Tired.” It’s not a question and I stroke her hair away from her face with a hand that doesn’t feel like mine.

She nods. I know she has questions and I might have to give her answers, but not now. And she’s patient enough to wait.

She’s always been patient with me.

“Night, Edie.” Even though I’m tempted to lean forward and kiss her forehead, I rest my hand there for a moment instead.

“Night, Kalle.”

She falls asleep almost instantly. It takes me a little longer.

A lot longer.

When I wake up in the morning, Edie is still asleep on her side facing me, curled up around the cat who is spread long between us like a harbour chain, blocking any entry. I watch her, but not in a creepy, Twilight way.

Edie made me watch the series years ago so I know that Edward was super creepy.

She sleeps with her hair pulled up into a bun that started at the top of her head but slipped off-centre. The sight of it makes me smile. I’m tempted to curl a loose tendril around my finger.

Now, that might be creepy.

Over her shoulder, I notice her clock radio blinking. The power is back on, but I have no idea what time it is. I can hear the rain against the window, but the wind has died down.

I have no desire to get out of this bed. It’s soft and comfortable, and while my feet may be hanging over the end, it smells of Edie, and I like how Edie smells.

I like a lot of things about Edie.

Like, really like about her and more keep popping up, like those seeds she started last year. One day there was only a thick expanse of dirt, and then the next, there were all these little green sprouts.

I never saw it happen, but one day they were just there.

I never saw the change from Edie-my-friend, to Edie-maybe-more.

“Maybe more” might not be enough.

She’s dating my cousin, my arch-enemy. My nemesis. Is that what prompted this shift into the maybe more?

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