Page 98 of Vicious Desire (Fallen Royals 4)

It meant the kisses after were sweeter.

He scoffs.

“You think I’m lying?” I ask.

“I think you think too much of yourself.”

We both pause. I let the sting of his comment sink in. It reminds me of the sharp crack of branches against my legs as a kid, running through the woods.

“Sorry,” he mumbles.

Those kinds of comments are meant for an audience, not when it’s just us.

“I was looking for you. Amelie said you left.”

“I did leave,” I say.

I try to imagine what he’s doing, why he’s calling me, but it’s too far outside the scope of normal. We’ve been superficial so far. A surface friendship… or something where we kiss a lot. And sometimes complain about our home lives. We use each other to unload our struggles.

We tell each other those things because our home lives are similar, and we understand each other. That’s it.

But this phone call is like standing on the edge of a cliff.

He can’t make me actually like him.

“Eli?”

He grunts.

“Are you drunk?”

It’s the only plausible explanation.

“Aren’t we all just a little tipsy?”

“Nope. I’m stone cold sober.”

I don’t bother to mention that my parents would’ve murdered me if they smelled alcohol on my breath. They were pleased I was home before eleven as it was.

“Boo,” he says. “I was hoping…”

My eyebrows hike up, but I don’t say anything. There’s no way I’m filling in that blank.

“You’re not very talkative,” he says. “Don’t you have anything to talk about?”

I glance at the clock on my nightstand again. I should ask him about Jackie.

About me.

“It’s midnight,” I end up saying.

“Isn’t that when all the best conversations take place?”

I groan. “No. At least, not like this.”

He exhales. “Like what?”

“With you blasted out of your mind—”

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