Chapter 16
Sixteen
CAMILLO
Something had changed. There was no denying it. We sat on Aleric’s sofa until the sky dimmed and Cillian started to become slightly hysterical in his texts. I allowed Aleric to carry me to the top of the stairs before taking my chair all the way down, and then I scooted down on my ass and got myself situated.
Rather than having him drive me back, I called for a car and told them to be discreet. The neighborhood wasn’t loud, but there were plenty of families who were taking dogs and kids for evening walks.
Aleric and I hunkered down at the park beside his car, and when mine showed up, I realized that we hadn’t figured anything out. We hadn’t defined what we were or what we wanted to be. I could kiss him, but it felt like breaking the unspoken rules we’d created the first time we touched.
So I didn’t. I stared at him for a long, long moment, then got into my car and did my best not to think about it until I was home.
I had a big, grand plan to get to my apartments and promptly fall completely apart because I had no idea what to do with these feelings, but that was immediately waylaid by Cillian. He met me in the foyer with his Glare of Discontent that I was pretty sure he’d gotten patented, his arms crossed over his chest as he leaned against the wall.
“Don’t,” I warned him.
“I quit.”
I rolled past him, waving him off. “No you don’t.” I had to empty my piss bag before it exploded, and I was unsurprised to hear his footfalls as we headed for the bathroom. I situated my chair in front of the toilet and emptied the bag before tossing it into the red-lined bin. “If you’re going to stand there and disapprove at me, the least you can do is help.”
He scoffed as he leaned for the drawer that I could easily reach and pulled out a packet holding a bag and a new catheter.
I could do this in my sleep, so I didn’t pay much attention as I swapped everything out. Instead, I watched his expression in the mirror as he glared.
“We’re not going to get anywhere if you don’t start talking,” I reminded him.
“You don’t know this man.”
“There we go.”
“He’s…complicated.”
I spun around and edged him back with my wheels so I could reach the sink to wash my hands. “ I’m complicated.”
“How many men have used you to get their freaky rocks off?”
I swiped my hands on a towel, then turned my chair to face him. “Enough that I know how to spot them before they can even open their mouths. And I think you know he’s not like that.”
He cracked a little, his face softening. “No. I don’t think he is.” Blowing out a puff of air, he stepped aside to let me through, then predicably followed me into my bedroom. Normally I did this alone, but every now and again, I let him help.
Cillian went to my dresser and took out a pair of loose pajamas, handing them off before dropping into the armchair beside the window.
“I’m not asking him to marry me,” I said as I wriggled out of my trousers. It was easier to change while I was flat on my back—which I usually did on the floor. Tonight was a mistake. My body was aching and weak from all the tension I’d been carrying. I flung my clothes to the side, then got into my pajamas. “I don’t even know what kind of life we could have.”
I heard him sigh, though my view of him was blocked by the side of the bed. “What kind of life do you want? Have you ever considered what that might look like?”
I couldn’t help but laugh as I pressed my arms to the floor and sat halfway up. “No, actually. Believe it or not, my confidence has not extended to finding a partner who was interested in all of this long term.”
Cillian sat for a beat, then stood up. He must have realized I wasn’t getting up on my own. I heard his joints pop as he knelt, but that didn’t stop him from sliding his arms under my legs, the other beneath my arms, and lifting me to the bed.
“Someday, you’re going to be too old to do that,” I told him.
“Mm. So I hope Aleric doesn’t ignore arm day in the gym.”
My face went a little numb at the thought of Aleric seeing me like this. The inglorious reality of life when we weren’t flirting and fucking and eating cheap ice cream. But the thought didn’t terrify me the way it used to.
A few years after the accident, when I was still optimistic and unsure, I used to fantasize about what life would be like. I wanted someone who saw me for exactly who I was. I didn’t want that bullshit “I don’t see disability” crap. But I didn’t want that to be the first thing or the only thing they saw.
I wanted them to feel good about my limp dick but not obsessed with it in a way that made me feel like some kind of object.
Life quickly made me realize that was too much to ask. Or so I thought.
Aleric didn’t touch me where I didn’t want to be touched. He didn’t ask to taste anything I didn’t offer him. But he wasn’t afraid of me either.
He took me as I was—the way I took him.
The way it was supposed to be.
And it would have been perfect. It should have been perfect.
But there was still that one thing.
“They’ll never give him peace. Not for a second after we go public,” I murmured.
Cillian sighed and sat down beside me as I adjusted my pillows and lay back. His gaze was soft, kind, like the father I’d always wanted but never did get the chance to know. “Do you think they’ll give him peace anyway? If this whole…TV business is what you all think it’s going to be, he might not have that option anyway. And if that’s the case, how can it hurt to have you by his side?”
I took a deep breath and let that sink in.
“Unless,” Cillian added, softer this time, “you’re worried what his reputation might do to you ?”
That stung. “Do I really seem that shallow?”
“I’ve never seen you in love, Cam. Not even puppy love. Sometimes things matter, even when we don’t want them to.”
“What people think of him doesn’t matter to me.” That was the most honest I’d been in a while. “The only thing I care about is not letting my being a prince hurt him worse than he’s already been hurt.”
Cillian leaned in and gave me a kiss on the forehead like I was five. I hated how much I loved it—how much comfort that always brought me. It was strange to think that this man who was literally paid to give his life for me also loved me enough to do it.
Would my father say the same? Would my brother?
He was asking me all of this now because he gave a shit. Not because he was stunned by the idea that some man might actually want me.
“How does it feel when you’re with him?”
I couldn’t help a laugh. “Reckless and amazing. But he’s afraid if he asks for too much, he’ll be abandoned, and I don’t know how to reassure him when I’m still too afraid to make this something real.”
Cillian’s face shone with empathy. “Then you need to decide before he’s in too deep.”
That was true. It was already too late for me, but if I knew this wasn’t going to work, there might still be time to save Aleric from the disaster dating someone like me could bring.
“…and it’s not necessary for you to come to set today.”
My ears were ringing a little. “I’m sorry. Why?”
“It looks like Otis pulled something in his back, and he won’t be filming for the next few weeks.”
“Who the fuck is Otis?” I demanded, my hand stalling its reach for the car door handle. The poor woman on the other line coughed a little at my tone. “I’m sorry. That was—” I was unused to apologizing to random people and I couldn’t find the right words. “Where is Aleric?”
“Oh. I wouldn’t know that, sir. I believe he’s probably on set.”
I hung up on her.
“Your Highness?”
I looked up at Cillian. “I was asked not to come to the set today.” Shit. Had Aleric asked for that? I hadn’t heard from him since our last text exchange before I went to bed. It was short, but it seemed normal.
Only…did I even know what normal was?
“What would you like to do?”
“Take me there. If this shitfaced director wants to heave me off the set, he’s doing it to my face.” This was my one opportunity to see Aleric as much as I wanted, and I wasn’t letting that man or his assistant take it from me without a fight.
It took me longer than usual to transfer into the car, and I let Cillian handle my chair because my legs were spasming so hard from the stress of it all that I was starting to sweat. My ears began ringing as I settled in the seat, and I felt a familiar wave of unwell.
Normally that came with a UTI, but everything seemed normal, so it was most definitely anxiety. I breathed through it, but I wasn’t feeling much better when we were waved onto the lot and I waited for Cillian to set my chair for me.
“You look pale, Your Highness.”
“I’m fine.”
“Cam.” His voice was no-nonsense.
“Really. I’m just feeling a little uncomfortable. Let me go talk to Aleric, and if I’m really not needed on set, we can go.”
“Home?”
“Basketball,” I told him, and he rolled his eyes.
“Cam,” he said so softly no one else around would hear, “you’re pale and shaking. You’re sweating. I’m concerned.”
He was right to be. As much as I wanted to tell myself it was nothing, the longer I sat there, the more I could feel it. There was an infection crawling through my body. I couldn’t ignore the signs any longer. All I could do was take a minute to see Aleric’s face, and then I could handle it.
This happened more than I cared for, but it had been a little while since I’d dealt with one, and I was suddenly furious and angry that it had to be now.
But I knew my body. I needed to act. I couldn’t let this sit, or I would pay for it later.
“Give me twenty minutes. Just twenty,” I begged when he gave me an angry look. “I’m not going to collapse. I promise. If it’s an infection, it’s early.”
“Fine. Go.”
He gave me a hand into the chair, which was the moment I knew for sure something was wrong. I was still strong enough to wheel myself through the doors and down the long corridor that led to the main set. I could hear voices—the director calling out instructions, the silence that came after, then the low rumble I recognized as Aleric.
My heart sped up, but I didn’t know if it was from him this time or the infection. All the same, I rolled through the side door that was propped open and came to a stop near a tall stack of boxes that I used to hide myself whenever I wanted to watch him.
My eyes were burning a little—likely from the growing fever—but I could see Aleric clearly. It was a scene with his parents. They were nothing like my own. The queen was too calm, too kind, and the king’s dialogue was too focused on how worried he was for his son and not enough about the fucking optics.
But I recognized this scene. I’d written it almost word for word in my book, and they’d adapted it well.
“We’re doing this for your own good, Camillo. There’s nothing shameful about an arranged marriage.”
“Except that you’re not giving me the chance to find someone on my own because you don’t think I can!” I mouthed along, but Aleric’s delivery was so close to the way I had spoken to my father that my heart ached.
“This will allow someone to have the chance to grow to love you. To grow to understand?—”
“What? That I’m not like everyone else? That I never will be? That I’m some shameful family burden all because some asshole who wanted to get a photo of me kissing a boy was more important than the rest of my life!”
Fuck, Aleric was good. He was too good, and it was too hard to watch what was coming next. I turned just as I heard the thud. That’s when Aleric’s body hit the floor because that was the first time I’d fallen out of my chair in front of my parents.
Though I hadn’t fallen. At least, not by accident. I’d wanted them to see me lying there. I wanted them to see me as I was.
“ Cut !”
I spun back around as Aleric hopped to his feet. He tried for a smile at the man who was playing my father—Bernard or Benson or something. I never bothered to learn his name. He didn’t smile back. Aleric opened his mouth to say something, but he turned and walked off, pretending Aleric wasn’t there.
I felt a surge of rage. I’d seen it happen before. I’d seen the way the rest of the cast dismissed him like he was unworthy, and I wanted to tell them they were all half the actors he was. It was resentment and jealousy because he’d been through the worst and had come back better.
Instead, I ignored a rush of chill up the back of my neck and rolled forward. “Hello.”
Aleric spun, and his face broke out into a huge smile. It hadn’t been him. Christ, I felt sick with relief. And sick for a whole different reason. The room immediately began to spin, and I felt myself slump sideways, my gullet rising into my throat.
I rarely vomited. My abdominal muscles made it excessively difficult to do that, but I could tell I was close. Aleric was calling my name, but his voice sounded like it was being spoken through tin, and I couldn’t seem to focus my vision.
Warm hands touched my face, strong arms cradling me against the back of my chair to keep me upright. “What’s happening? Baby, hey?”
Baby ? I tried for a smile. That was new, and God, I liked it.
“Camillo. Talk to me. What’s going on. Fuck, where’s your guard?”
“Here!” Ah, hell. Cillian was coming, and he did not sound happy. “I’ve called for private transport. He’s ill.”
My eyes began to focus a little better. Cillian was on his knee beside me, and Aleric was still holding me. “I need the hospital,” I rasped. It was coming on too quickly to be a simple infection. I was in trouble.
“I know.” Cillian would rip me a new asshole later. “Forgive me, Your Highness, but I am going to carry you now.”
“No.”
“Let him,” Aleric said. “You can’t even hold your head up, and your heart is racing.”
“No, it’s not—” Oh. It was. Now that he mentioned it, I could feel it hammering against the inside of my ribs.
“What hospital are you taking him to?” Aleric demanded as Cillian lifted me into his arms.
“It’s one you won’t have access to. I’m sure he’ll call or text when he’s better.” Cillian’s voice was brisk and sharp, and I wanted to cry, but I didn’t have the energy.
“I want him with me. Please,” I rasped.
“You know why you can’t have him there right now. We have to leave before anyone with a camera sees this.”
Ah. Right, I’d all but forgotten the dangers of falling ill in public. I’m sure there was someone with a cell phone somewhere taking a nice long video for the gossip rags. Luckily, I was fading fast, and before we even got outside, I succumbed to unconsciousness.