Page 29 of Volatile

I waited for him to say it or step down, not backing off. Sebastian hovered at my side, not sure what to do. His energy made me uneasy, and I hated it. I didn’t want anyone to witness this confrontation. Royal and I always had each other’s backs. We rarely fought.

We felt fractured beyond repair.

Like he saw me differently.

“Is this going to be a forever thing?”

“What?” I asked, confusion hitting me like fatigue, draining the last bit of energy I had.

He didn’t speak and instead lowered his gaze, dragging his attention over every inch of me.

Did he mean…

“Say it to my fucking face, Royal. Say it.”

EIGHT

Royal

Ifound the end of my rope.

He’d walked out on stage in a schoolgirl skirt, and I still wasn’t over it hours later. I tried to distract myself at the club, but I got nothing out of the girls who hit on me. Nothing out of the lines. And nothing out of watching Aspen having the time of his life.

He thrived.

Everyone loved the costumes and production.

He bloomed while I withered.

And I knew it was my fault.

I’d followed him out of the club, unwilling to let him go anywhere alone, dressed like he was. He wore a more conservative version of what he’d been wearing on stage, only this one was more schoolgirl and a bit longer. He paired the skirt with an untucked white button-down, leaving a few buttons open at the top, as well as cuffed sleeves. He wore his eyeliner smudged and smeared from his time on stage. And the longer I looked at him, the harder I got. I wanted to hit him for making me feel whatever the fuck this was. Right in the fucking teeth.

I hated how easily he talked to Sebastian. How Sebastian looked at him. Hungry. How they clinked glasses and drank as they laughed. He’d taken my place, and it was my fault. But knowing I was at fault didn’t quell my rage.

Aspen squared up against me and met my anger. It rolled off of him, and it was the best we’d felt in a month.

This felt like us.

Across the boxing ring from one another. I knew how to act with him as my opponent. My hands balled into fists like I’d actually hit him.

“Say it out loud” Aspen demanded.

“You heard me.” My words came strained, barely hissed in the inches between us.

“Is what going to be a permanent thing, Royal?”

I grabbed the front of his shirt so he’d have no doubts about what I meant. “This,” I hissed the words through my teeth, rage boiling over to mix with my arousal.

A dangerous combination.

“My shirt? Do you want it gone?” he spit the words back, not breaking eye contact.

“You know what I mean.” I got more irate with every word, and he seemed to revel in it.

“If it means that much to you...” Aspen undid his buttons around my fingers.

“Stop.” My word froze his hand in place.

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