Chapter 5
Five
CAMILLO
The sound of the dribbling basketball, along with the squealing wheels on the court, was threatening to give me a migraine. I had no idea why I bothered showing up anymore. I’d started playing for the league when I was seventeen—just as a way of getting some strength into my upper body and so I could connect with people who understood what my life was like.
My parents had been so opposed to it, which was another reason I insisted on going. There was little I could do to rebel against the king and queen of Caverna. I had to take those moments where I could get them.
But I wasn’t good at sports. I never had been, and being in a wheelchair didn’t give me some sudden and spectacular talent at hand-eye coordination. I was on the team because I was the prince. Not because I’d earned my way to a spot. Most of the people who played alongside me were amazing.
Several of them had gone on to the Paralympic Games or played for the Royal Wheelchair Basketball Association.
I was still the weedy little spoiled jackass who couldn’t make a shot even if my life depended on it. And yet, I showed up every Thursday to make an ass out of myself.
“Okay, seriously, what’s lodged up your ass, and how much lube do we need to remove it?” Erik was probably my oldest and best friend. In fact, I think he was probably my only friend on the team who liked me for who I was. Everyone else tolerated me because they had no choice…and probably because I didn’t complain that I was benched almost every single game.
Erik was also the one who’d talked me out of quitting every time I wanted to drop the ball and leave. I don’t know why he did it. We both knew I was terrible at it, but I think he also knew I needed something like this. A way to talk to people who weren’t part of my family.
People willing to be real and raw about what life was like. It was rare, and although I usually didn’t want to be there, I always felt better when I left.
“I’m just not in the mood today.”
He lifted a very pale brow at me and came to a rolling stop beside my chair. When the ball came flying in our direction, he caught it with one hand, reminding me why he was a gold medalist and I was just some chump with a weekday hobby.
“We’re taking ten,” he called, then jerked his head toward the doors.
My arms were aching as I followed him into the corridor, but the immediate quiet was a balm. He led the way into the training room, which was dark and empty and even more insulated than the hallway.
He paused at the little minifridge and pulled out one of his disgusting green juices. “Want one?”
“No, thanks. I’m getting a burger after this,” I told him. “With extra bacon.”
He pulled a face but spared me his usual lecture on healthy fats and macros and whatever other nutrition fad he was currently obsessed with. “You and I both know you don’t love coming here, but you seem more miserable than usual.” He cracked the top of his juice and took down half before putting it between his legs and tilting backward in his chair. “Want me to play therapist?”
I rolled my eyes. “I have a therapist, thank you. One whose kid I’m putting through law school.” Which was actually true. I’d funded a scholarship for her son after his dad passed and took half her income. But it was also true that the amount of money I spent on private therapy could have probably put a fleet of children through college.
Erik laughed and dropped forward onto his front wheels. “Fine. Friend to friend, then? Because you’re really killing the mood here.”
I grimaced. I knew I could be a buzzkill. Even my stick-up-his-ass brother reminded me every time we went out together. But Erik wasn’t wrong. I was still reeling from my encounter with Aleric King in the bathroom after the table read. It wasn’t just him though. He was a symptom in the existential crisis that was only getting worse as the year went on.
But at least, for now, he was an easy person to blame my melancholy on.
“It’s this television show bullshit.”
He sighed, but he wasn’t annoyed. Out of everyone I knew, he understood the most. He’d helped me draft my statement to the studio before they chose the cast, and he was as upset as I was when my email was entirely disregarded.
“How bad is it?”
“I’ve only seen them read the first script,” I confessed, “but it doesn’t bode well. The jackass they have playing me didn’t even know I use a catheter.”
He grimaced. “Shit. You think it’ll come up in the show?”
“Probably not. I’m pretty sure someone used the CliffsNotes version of my book to write the script.” I scrubbed a hand down my face like maybe that could help wipe away some of my frustration.
It didn’t.
“I think my parents will murder me if I cause any more upset with this production though. My brother thinks I should walk away and just let them do whatever it is they want to do.”
Erik frowned. “I…suppose that’s an option?”
“It’s not a fucking option. If I do that and it turns out to be absolute shit, people are going to think I endorsed it. It feels like…” I trailed off, my hands squeezing my wheels tightly enough to make my knuckles hurt. “My experience keeps getting dismissed in favor of my accomplishments. Like being a prince and having money and writing a book and doing sports somehow negates the agony I feel most days. Like the moments I want to give up don’t matter because oh, look what a fucking inspiration I am.”
He deflated. “I understand.”
He did. But also, he didn’t. Not in the same way. He was a semi-famous professional athlete, but at the end of the day, he was just a man. Erik didn’t have the weight of a title pressing down on his shoulders. He wasn’t being stalked by paparazzi at every turn, despite the laws the country passed after my accident.
If he decided to give up what he was doing now and live the rest of his life like a hermit in some wheelchair-accessible cave one day, no one would bat an eye. That option would never be mine. Even if I gave up my title, I was still the son of a king and queen. I was still the brother of a future ruler of an entire goddamn country.
I would always be this: a public commodity that needed to exist in a way that made the masses comfortable. There was no room for ugly reality. It was why, no matter what my parents wanted, I would die alone.
“So your options are to deal with the fuckery of being on set and hoping that someone will listen to some of the things you say,” Erik said, ticking off one finger, “or saying fuck it, washing your hands of it, and dealing with the fallout when inevitably you get dragged into interviews perpetuating misinformation.”
“That about sums it up.”
He stared, then burst into laughter. “Your life sucks.”
“Yes.”
“You need to get laid.”
“Also, yes.” It was true, but I hated that the second he said that, the first person who popped into my head was Aleric. I had no business wanting him. I didn’t want him, damn it. He was just always there .
And okay, so he was striking in an obnoxiously handsome way.
Oh, and his smile was nice.
And he was so damned obedient , which made me feel… no . Nope. I was not entertaining that thought.
“There’s something you’re not telling me,” Erik said, his laughter abruptly dying.
My cheeks flushed in spite of myself, and I went for a lie because it was a lot easier than the truth. “You know I don’t bother keeping secrets from you.”
“And yet, it’s written all over your face.” He rolled forward until his legs bumped mine, jostling me hard enough to send nerve pain sparking through my lower limbs. “Spill. There’s someone you’re interested in, and don’t say Roget. I know you don’t actually like him.” Of course he’d bring up my hookup. Everyone knew Roget about as well as I did.
“You know for a fact there’s no one. The only people interested in fucking me are curious about my family, my title, or my legs. Or they’re bored and want something to do. None of those things are sexy.”
“Speak for yourself. My legs could have their own OnlyFans.” He reached down and gave his thin calf a slap.
“Whatever floats your boat doesn’t mean it floats mine.” I was starting to feel irritated, but I didn’t want to take it out on him. “Look, I should go. Obviously, you all don’t need me, and I really don’t want to bring down the mood.”
I started for the door, but Erik sped up after me and grabbed the back of my seat, hauling me to a stop. “Hey, wait. I’m sorry. I know this is all absolutely fucking shit. I was just joking.”
Bowing my head, I took a deep breath and nodded. “No, I know. But I might just go full turtle for a while until I figure out how to compartmentalize this mess.”
“You know if you need me?—”
“I know,” I interrupted quietly. I grabbed one wheel and turned to face him. “Thanks. I appreciate that you get it.”
“Everyone here does. You have more family than you think.”
He’d been saying that for years now, and I wanted to embrace it, but I was terrified to let people in. To let them close. I’d been used too many times, and I was tired of being seen as some guy in a magazine cover.
The Second-Born Prince. No name. No individuality. Just a figure with no real purpose.
“I still think I’m gonna head out. Thanks for listening to me.”
“You didn’t do much talking,” Erik pointed out.
I had nothing to say to that. Not really. “See you next week?”
He shrugged, and I knew I was going to have to address this with him eventually, but he was kind enough to let me spin and head out of the room without calling me on my bullshit. Making my way down the corridor, I bypassed the gym and felt a little better about rolling into the locker room without having a crowd of people behind me.
I transferred to the bench in front of my locker to change, not bothering with a shower, considering I hadn’t broken even a drop of sweat, and as I was shifting back into my chair, my phone began to buzz several times in succession.
No one ever texted me besides Erik and occasionally Roget, so my heart picked up a few extra beats as I fished it out of my bag and thumbed open the screen.
Aleric: I finished the book.
Aleric: You were right. I should have read this earlier.
Aleric: I’m sorry.
Aleric: I’m also sorry I keep hitting enter instead of sending one long text.
Aleric: I also have about a million questions. Can we meet up soon? I can probably ask everything on set, but I think I’d like to talk before we begin filming.
Aleric: I have a fitting tomorrow at noon. Otherwise I’m free.
Me: A fitting for what?
Aleric: I feel like shit for saying this. Wheelchair fitting.
Me: I can meet you after. Send me the time and where and I can schedule my driver.
Aleric: Your driver. You’re such a fucking prince.
I laughed. I had no idea know why. In school, kids would call me that to bully me. In the bedroom, men had called me prince —sometimes princess—because they thought it turned me on. It didn’t, but I usually let them. My parents often sneered prince at me as if to remind me who and what I was.
For the first time ever, the royal title didn’t set me on edge. I was still grinning when I put my phone back in my bag and hooked it on the back of my chair’s very low, discreet handles. I headed out while I could still hear practice going, and I spotted my guard and my driver near the edge of the curb. Cillian was smoking a cigarette while Aleks was tossing the car keys up in the air and catching them over and over.
Cillian dropped the butt he’d finished and smudged it out with the tip of his shoe. I was suddenly reminded of the first time I’d seen Aleric. It was days before I knew that it was him. A sexy but infuriating man sitting outside, and I had been angry at what? Him existing?
Was I really that much of an asshole?
The answer was yes. I didn’t even need to dig deep for it.
“Finished early?” Aleks asked.
I shrugged as I waited for him to open the door. I grabbed both of my legs and eased them over the lip of the car, then grabbed the roof and the handle and transferred to the seat. As I watched Cillian fold up my chair, I realized I didn’t want to do this in front of Aleric.
Yeah, he should probably see what it was usually like when I met up with someone in public, but the idea of him seeing someone wait on me was like a heavy stone in my gut. Fuck it. I’d take my car. I rarely drove, and maybe—if I was feeling a little wild—I’d take a jaunt down to the coast when Aleric and I were finished.
I had no idea why, but suddenly, I felt a lot lighter, and though it made no sense, I knew I had Aleric to thank.