Page 61 of Wild Fury (Fallen Royals 6)

I storm out. I’ll get my car later, when I’m less likely to crash it. When I’m less angry. I have weird feelings in my gut, like lust and something heavier. It weighs me down, and I loathe the feeling.

Once I’m free of her building, I burst into a run. My wet jeans stick to my thighs, every inch of me uncomfortable. But I make it back to my apartment in record time and shuck off my clothes. I kick them away, the rage welling up again.

“Fuck,” I test out.

I’m breathing hard—something that doesn’t normally happen to me. I run every day. I’m in the best physical shape of my life thanks to football. Speaking of, I have a five a.m. practice tomorrow, and then a game on Friday. We played an away game against a smaller school two weeks ago and it was complete shit.

Since then, the team has been doing two practices per day, putting in the extra work, and everyone is more confident.

My stomach twists. My lucky charm wasn’t at the first game—but maybe she’ll come to this next one. And I hate—hate—to think of her as a lucky charm, but it’s the truth. Any time she was at a game, I performed better.

And after what she just did…

I close my eyes and relive it. Her hand on me. Her wet pussy grinding on me. The taste of her skin.

What I would give to shed this fucked-up sense of incapability and just…

No. My brother, Will, told me from a young age that what I saw changed my brain permanently. The motorcyclist who crashed—and then died. I still remember stepping out of our car after it spun in a three-sixty, dizzy and confused about what had just happened.

I was the one to approach the dying man.

Me and Lux—although I didn’t realize it was her. I barely spared her a glance. The blood was seared into my mind.

Her grandmother pulled her away, but no one came for me.

Dad was unconscious in the front seat, a perfect imitation of sleep.

Why had I gone to the one who caused the accident instead of helping my dad? Will held that against me later. He had been beside me, but his panic was more visceral. He yelled and screamed at our father to wake up.

I stayed silent. Every emotion played over a speaker inside my body, broadcasting clearly, but it didn’t compute to my expression, my words. That part of my brain shut down, and here we are: tall, dark, and brooding.

Or something like that.

My phone buzzes again.

Lux: Let’s do that again sometime.

I don’t answer. I can’t do that again. As much as I want to. As much as I enjoyed it. We were perfectly fine circling each other.

Lux: You can’t avoid me forever, you know.

Damn it if my dick doesn’t stir at that notion. I toss the phone on my bed and take a cold shower, only emerging when I can think about her without getting hard.

That old possessiveness creeps over me, and I have to mentally stop myself from putting on my shoes and going to see her again. To bring her back here.

Someone knocks on my door, interrupting my internal war, and I yank the door open.

Liam Morrison, my best friend, grins at me. “I thought about using the key but wasn’t sure if you finally caved and brought a lady over.” He peers into the apartment.

I roll my eyes and step aside. “No one but me, myself, and I.”

He scoffs. “One of these days, you’re gonna break. Unless you’re still hanging your hopes on Lucy?”

Hanging my hopes seems a bit rough—like I’m desperate for her, and she keeps denying me.

What’s a promise worth to you, Lux?

Sooner or later, her and I will both break. There’s no question, it’s just a matter of when. Today was a giant step toward that moment, but I can’t focus on that.

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