18. Riley
18
RILEY
S lamming the lid of my laptop shut, I yank my earbuds from my ears as I full-body shiver. I can’t take another minute of that. We’re currently covering criminal psychology in my psych class, and the professor assigned us an essay on understanding the minds behind various criminal activities. Of course, he selected which criminal activity each of us would write about. Then, because the universe truly despises me, I was assigned the task of understanding the twisted minds of people who kidnap others.
Yup, my life is some cosmic joke, apparently.
I’ve been trying to watch psychological interviews of various kidnappers, but I’ve yet to make it more than several minutes into a video before I have to stop.
I just… can’t.
All of it rings too close to home.
“Can we get out of here?” I ask Royce.
He looks up from where he had been sketching something for an assignment, eyes searching my face. “Everything okay?”
“I just need a break.” I’m already packing up my things, and he follows without question.
“Do you want to head home?” he asks as we leave the library.
I shake my head. “Can’t. I’ve got my advisor meeting in an hour.” Which I am not looking forward to.
“I can bring you back to campus.”
Again, I turn him down. Brooding on campus feels marginally better than brooding in the deafening silence of the house. I’m less likely to fall so deep into the pit of depression that I can’t claw my way back out if I’m on campus, surrounded by the constant buzz of life happening around me. Students living out the typical college experience.
The cold February air nips at my cheeks, and I snuggle into Royce’s side, stealing his heat as he drapes his heavy arm over my shoulder. “The Coffee Hut is on the way to the administration building; let’s just go there.” He stiffens, his stride slowing slightly before he catches himself. “Or we can?—”
“No.” His tone is curt. “Coffee sounds good.”
My teeth gnaw on my lower lip, having forgotten Royce’s aversion to public places on campus. He’s become more comfortable eating in the food court, never missing a lunch if he’s on campus, although I can tell he’s never entirely at ease, even when it’s all of us sitting together.
“We can just go to the food court.”
“It’s fine.” His voice still sounds strained, but I drop any argument I was going to make, and we walk to The Coffee Hut in silence. I’d have preferred the coffee cart, but it’s too cold to sit outside. Maybe in another month or so, I’ll be able to return to sitting on a bench while sipping on a steaming-hot drink. When winter officially hit Halston, I was forced to seek out a coffee shop with actual walls and a roof. Thankfully, there are several on campus.
Reaching the coffee shop, Royce pulls open the door. A small bell jingles as he ushers me in ahead of him. The warmth immediately wraps around me as I look around the interior, along with the rich, comforting aroma of freshly brewed coffee. The walls are painted a warm, earthy brown, with cream and green accents interspersed around the room to give a chilled vibe.
The place is busy but not packed. Students and faculty alike taking advantage of the good coffee and warm respite from the cold. Some are hunched over laptops, while others are chatting animatedly, creating a low hum of conversation that blends with the occasional hiss of the espresso machine.
A few people glance up as we walk past, but most are engrossed in their own worlds. We join the back of the line, which moves steadily as people order their midday caffeine fix. The baristas behind the counter work with practiced efficiency, quickly calling out orders and steaming milk.
While we wait, I glance at Royce. He’s scanning the room with a stern glare, his fuck off face firmly in place. Pinching his side, that hard expression snaps to mine, and I can’t help but giggle. It’s so rare that I see this side of him now. Sure, he’s not a fluffy kitten, but I almost forget how acerbic he used to be—how he still is around anyone who isn’t me, Logan, Grayson, or the guys at The Depot.
“If you’re trying to scare everyone else out of here, you’re doing an excellent job.”
He manages to force the muscles in his face to relax—a little. “Sorry.” That one word is a grunt.
“You don’t need to apologize.” I glance around us, teeth firmly embedded in my lower lip. “Maybe we should...”
“Next,” the barista calls.
“Just order your drink, James.” With a firm hand on the base of my spine, Royce pushes me in front of the barista. I ask for a caramel latte while Royce orders a black coffee before we wait at the end of the counter.
Several minutes later, with our drinks in hand, we look around for a place to sit. “Oh, over there.” I point in the direction where a group of guys are leaving a booth, and we weave our way through the tables, sliding into the newly vacant booth before someone else can claim it.
The seat is cushioned and pleasantly comfortable, and I sink into it as I sip my latte, the sweet, creamy flavor instantly lifting my spirits. We sit in companionable silence while we sip on our drinks, and I people-watch. The hustle and bustle of the coffee shop is a welcome relief from the morbid arena that has become my mind, and I go from table to table, creating stories for each person sitting there, all to avoid my own mess of a life.
Lost in my own world, I notice Royce stiffen from the corner of my eye. My head whips in his direction, gaze raking over him as I try to figure out what’s wrong. His hand is clenched tightly around his cup, and if it had been a disposable one, he’d have crushed it, likely burning himself in the process. His expression has turned to stone. He’s completely shut down.
This is more than just being pissed off.
Something has gotten to him.
Frantic, I scan our surroundings, not understanding.
“It’s definitely him.”
Another voice adds, “I can’t believe he’s allowed to just walk around campus.”
“Right? Like, how has he not been expelled? He’s a menace to society.”
My focus zeros in on the girls sitting in the booth behind him. They aren’t even trying to keep their voices low, talking so loudly that I can hear them over the din of other customers.
Clearly, Royce hears them, too, and based on the furtive glances they keep flicking his way, I can hazard a guess as to who they’re talking about.
Sitting opposite each other, the brunette has her back to me, so I can’t see her face, but I recognize the other girl as the one who was talking about Royce that day in the library—the blonde who said her cousin knew Royce. Does that make her cousin Melissa?
“I’m going to say something to my parents,” the blonde states snootily. “I don’t feel safe walking around campus with him on the prowl. What if we ran into him when it was dark out?” She gapes scandalously at her friend.
“Do you think the girl with him knows? ” her friend asks, and I quickly avert my gaze in case either of them looks my way.
“Maybe we should tell her,” the blonde suggests. “It’s our civic duty, after all. What if he does the same thing to her? I mean, who knows how many other girls have fallen victim to those good looks.”
Aaaand I’ve had enough.
Teeth gritted and fury burning a path through my veins, I get to my feet.
“Riley,” Royce hisses. “Don’t?—”
I shut him up with a lethal glare before stomping over to the booth behind him. Towering over the table, I fold my arms across my chest and stare down at the two girls. They fall silent, blinking up at me.
“Uh, can we help you?” the brunette asks, frowning. I realize she’s the other library buddy, and for some reason, that only pisses me off more. Do these two just spend their day talking shit about my boyfriend?
“I couldn’t help but overhear your conversation,” I begin curtly.
“Oh, good.” The relief in the blonde’s expression is palpable. “We wanted to say something?—”
“Do you realize slander is a prosecutable offense?”
My question is met with a moment of confused silence. The two girls share a glance.
“Uh, it’s not slander if it’s true,” the brunette snipes.
“Except the bullshit you two are spewing is not the truth.” I pin my searing gaze on the blonde. “Your cousin is the one you heard this from, yes?”
Her mouth opens and closes, making her look like a fish. I’m done listening to her talk, so I don’t wait for her to find her voice. I lean in, ensuring they’re the only ones who hear my next words.
“I suggest you go back to your cousin, and this time, ask her to tell you the truth of what happened that night.” I cast my gaze toward her friend, including her in my next sentiment. “In the meantime, the two of you should shut your pie holes, focus on your own lives, and leave the rest of us alone.”
A warmth envelops my back as I stand upright.
“Ry,” Royce pleads in a low voice.
The girls’ focus shifts to the threatening presence at my back, their throats bobbing.
Grabbing Royce’s hand in mine, I squeeze it. I just have one more thing to say, then we can leave.
“Royce is the most respectful, loyal, honest man I have ever met. Whatever you think you know, I can guarantee you, it’s all lies. Maybe you should think about the harm spreading such unfounded gossip can do to a person before any more bullshit spews from your mouths.”
Spinning on my heel, I keep Royce’s hand tucked in mine as I march out of the coffee shop. The smack of cold air only seems to fan the flames of my anger as I stalk down the path, visibly fuming.
How dare they talk about him so openly like that.
Even worse, he was within hearing distance. They had to have known that.
Bitches.
I rarely use that word, but it’s fitting in this instant.
“Ry.” Royce pulls me to a stop, and I blink out of my murderous rage, finally seeing him for the first time.
“Royce.” Stepping into him, I press my forehead to his chest. “I’m so sorry. I should never have taken you in there.”
His hand comes up to cup the back of my head. “Not your fault, sweetheart.”
“You shouldn’t have to deal with that.”
His blasé shrug somehow makes it worse. “It is what it is. The rumors have been around since last year. No one has any real idea of what happened to get me kicked off the football team, but everyone speculates.”
I frown up at him. “They were the same girls I overheard talking about you in the library last semester. The blonde said it was her cousin…”
His gaze darts back and forth between mine. “She might be. I didn’t recognize her, but for all I know, she could be Melissa’s cousin.”
My lips tug down in a pout. “I don’t like it if she is. They shouldn’t be talking about you like that.”
His chest vibrates with a contained chuckle. “Yeah, I saw that. Got worried for a moment that you were going to drag them out of their seats by the hair.”
“Now that you say it, that’s not a bad idea.” I make as though I’m going back there, and he tightens his hold on me.
“Hold on there, Tiger. I think you’ve done enough for one day.”
“Well, if you change your mind, just let me know.” I give his chest a condescending pat. “Don’t you worry, Royce. I’ll be your bodyguard.”
My teasing earns me a rare smirk, and I totally take that as a win as he tucks me into his side, and we walk aimlessly down the campus path.
“Did you really just say pie hole?” He does a poor job of hiding the laughter in his voice.
I groan, burying my face in my hands. “It just came out in the heat of the moment. I don’t even know where it came from!”
He gives up the fight and laughs out loud. “Well, it gave me flashbacks to fifth grade.”
“Can I ask,” I hedge, glancing up at him through my eyelashes. “You told me your dad paid her family off, along with the school, last year, but you never really talk about your dad… or your family.”
He blows out a long breath, and we walk in silence for a moment before he responds. “That’s because he only did those things for himself.”
Not understanding, I frown up at him.
“All that truly matters to my dad—to my family—is the King reputation. The accusations against me… not exactly the kind of press they want to be associated with. That’s the reason my dad paid off the family. He didn’t even care enough to hear my side of the story. He received word of a scandal and immediately went into damage control. It was the same last year when the Ellingtons sabotaged any potential I had at going pro by contacting Halston and trying to get me expelled.
“After that, he pulled me aside and said he was done with me. He can’t actually disinherit me. Well, he could, but he won’t. I’m his only heir, so for the continuation of the King line, he wouldn’t. But I’m essentially a King on paper only. None of the benefits—which basically just means no money. Which is fine. I make plenty from the fights at The Depot, and I have an inheritance from my grandparents that I can dip into when needed.”
“What about your mom? Doesn’t she have anything to say about all of this?”
He snorts. “My mom is drinking the same Kool-Aid as my dad. All that matters to either of them is their reputation and amassing even more wealth, which they don’t need. Anything that stands in the way of that, including their own son, is a threat.”
“That’s… messed up.” That is about the only way I can think to sum that up.
“Yeah.” He sounds more indifferent than sad about it. “I mean, it’s not like we were a close, loving family before. They’ve always been disinterested. According to them, they’ve done their job by producing an heir to continue the family line. They never really gave a crap about me beyond that.”
“You don’t sound like it bothers you all that much?”
“Because it doesn’t.” He shrugs. “Maybe when I was younger, but now… I prefer it this way. For as much as they don’t want anything to do with me, I don’t want anything to do with them .” He looks down at me, a softness in his gaze. “As far as I’m concerned, I’ve found my family. They’re the only ones I care about.”
Uncaring of the fact we’re on a public path in the middle of campus, I spin, bringing us face to face as I loop my arms around his neck. “Mm, I like the sound of that.”
His hands rest possessively on my hips, focus intent on me. “Good. ‘Cause that’s what you are. What Aurora is. Family.”
“Family,” I murmur, as though testing the weight of the word on my lips. My gaze drops to his lips, and he groans.
“James, you can’t do that here.”
“Do what?” I blink innocently up at him.
His gaze narrows, his hands squeezing my waist as though attempting to hold me at bay. “You know what.”
“Oh, you mean kiss you.”
“Yes,” he hisses. “That.”
I push my lower lip out in a pout. “Well, can I tell you I love you?”
“Fucking hell, Ry.” He sounds like he’s in literal agony.
“What? You were the one that so casually threw it out there before you fled out the door. I didn’t get to say it to you, too.”
“And you’re choosing this moment to reciprocate?”
I glance around as though only now realizing our location. “Seems like as good a time as any.”
With a grin tugging at the corner of his lips, he rolls his eyes, still holding me possessively. “Well, get on with it then.”
I flash him a full grin. “I, Riley James, am in love with you, Royce King.”
“So formal,” he teases, eyes shining.
“And I don’t care what any of them say. If I hear anyone talking smack about you, I will beat them up.”
“My hero.”
“You better believe it.”
“Are you about done now?” He arches an eyebrow.
“Why?”
“So I can kiss you.”
My mouth drops open, and I gasp scandalously as I flick my gaze around our immediate area. “ Here?! ”
“Yes.” That one word is a growl. “Here.”
In the next instant, his lips are on mine, and any thoughts about being in public cease to exist.