Page 38 of Royal
I can practically see the gears working in her head. The last time she saw me was when I left class, walking out on her and the scary insight she had on me. For a second, I think she’s going to say no, but then she cautiously nods. “I’d like that. I actually just came from class. Don’t have the next one until later tonight.”
“Perfect.” I shoot her a smile. “I’d rather kill time with you than alone.”
She blushes, and I can tell she’s chewing on her inner cheek. I think I make her nervous. But not in a bad way. More like she isn’t sure why she has my attention. I could easily lie to myself and say it’s because of Royal, but that’s not it, not if I’m being truthful with myself. And that’s the crux of the problem. The entire time I was dealing with Beckham and Royal’s confrontation last night, I kept thinking it could so fucking easily be me he was punching for getting too close. Because I’ll admit, this girl is hard to stay away from. And it’s getting more and more difficult to separate the task at hand—keeping Royal from exploding due to her mere presence next door—and what’s going on in my head. The thing is, I kinda like this girl. And though I’ve outright said that to him, I’m getting close to telling him enough is enough.
Fuck. I’m so screwed.
We walk together to the coffee shop, and I open the door, letting her duck under my arm. She glances back at me before looking around. “Is this place good? I haven’t been here before.”
“It’s great. My treat, then.” I shoot her a wink, but she shakes her head.
“Oh, no. You don’t have to do that.”
“Of course I do. It’ll be my way of apologizing.” We step up to the counter, and I automatically scan the board to figure out what I’m in the mood for.
“Wait, what?”
When I glance down at her, she’s frowning, but before I can answer, the barista joins us across the counter. “What can I get for you?”
Echo mumbles, “Oh, um. Just regular coffee for me.”
I nudge her. “You sure? The mochas are really good. Like hot chocolate and coffee had a baby.”
Biting her lip, she turns back to the barista. “Okay, I’ll try the mocha, then.”
“Make that two.”
“You got it.” The girl goes about pulling levers and doing her thing to make the coffee.
And while Echo watches the barista, I watch her. She seems a little anxious. Twitchy, almost. I’m guessing she wants to know the answer to her question about what I’m buying her an apology coffee for but doesn’t want to say anything more with an audience.
Once we have the drinks in hand, we find a table in the corner. Echo moves toward one of the seats, but I step in and pull out the other for her. Her brows furrow.
“Sorry. Call it a little quirk of mine.” I shrug, like it’s nothing. “I like to be able to see everyone who walks through the door.” More to the point, I like to know when trouble is coming at me.
She shoots me a perplexed look but takes the seat I’ve offered. When we’re both settled, she takes a sip of her coffee, then leans in and squints one eye at me. “Why?”
“The thing about watching the door?” I work my jaw to the side. This is as good an opening as I’ll get. “I need to know I can protect people I care about.”
She stares at me for a moment, blinking. “Oh. Right. Hero complex.” Her lips twitch, and she hides a small smile behind her coffee cup.
“Yeah. Um. That’s why I walked out of class.” I pause, taking a deep breath. “I was a little unnerved that you saw me so clearly. Then I got to thinking, maybe I was being dumb, because your hero complex label makes perfect sense if you think I look like Superman.” I huff out a laugh to disguise my continued discomfort, then lift my cup, taking a long swallow of my drink.
She slowly shakes her head. “It’s not just your looks. You’ve swooped in to my rescue pretty frequently since we met.”
I press my lips together. “I suppose so. Let’s talk about something else.”
“Okay.” Pointing at my cheek, she murmurs, “What happened here?” while her head tilts to the side, studying my face and the purple bruise left by Royal last night.
I sure as fuck can’t tell her the whole truth, so I let my lips twist, and I shoot her a smirking smile. “A couple friends needed to work out a few things last night.”
Her brows dart together in surprise. “I’m sorry. They had to work things out on yourface?”A small laugh bubbles out of her.
I lift both hands in a classic I-don’t-know gesture. “What can I say, sometimes that’s the way it goes. They’d both do the same for me. It wasn’t really my fight. I was trying to make sure they didn’t pummel each other to death.” I smirk. “Caught an elbow in the face for my efforts.”
Before I know what she’s about to do, she reaches across the table, her fingers brushing over the bruised skin, her touch gentle as her fingers sweep over my cheekbone. My breath stutters as my eyes connect with hers. I’m completely unprepared for the slow burst of warmth that spreads through every cell of my body. Stunned by my reaction, all I can do is attempt to drag air into my lungs and push it back out. The longer she touches me, the more that warmth feels like flames.
“They must have been pretty upset with each other.” It’s not exactly a question, but it comes out sounding like one.
