Page 32 of Fallen Crown

“One’s starting.”

“Take anything for it yet?”

I shake my head.

He slips past me without asking and heads to my kitchen. He’s only been in my apartment one other time when we met here to go for a run.

I’m too tired to follow him, and I go back to the couch and lie down, hoping he’ll take the hint and leave. There’s some banging of cupboards, the water in my fridge clicks on, and then Brice is standing in front of me with a glass of water and a bottle of pills.

“Do you need these or these?” He has my prescription bottle in one hand and a package of aspirin in the other.

“You went through my stuff?” My cheeks heat, and I sit up with a huff. I snatch both from him and set them on the coffee table.

“You have a headache. I was trying to help. It’s not like I was in the kitchen searching the internet for why you’re taking those.”

I rub my fingers in circles on my temples and rip open the package and toss the pills into my mouth, using the water to chase it. He can look up my medication if he wants on the internet—doesn’t matter to me. Personal boundaries clearly mean nothing to him. I lie back on the couch and tuck the blanket around me. I’m hoping he’ll take the hint.

Rather than leaving, he sits at the other end of my couch and props his feet on my coffee table.

“I’m not in the mood, Brice.”

“Can’t say I’ve ever heard that before.” A hint of a smile tugs at the corners of his lips.

“Proud to be your first.” I point to the door with my finger. “And on that note…”

“I don’t want to go on a three-day camping trip with Wren.” He stretches out and laces his hands behind his head, closing his eyes.

“So don’t go.”

“But I agree with her that I should go on a mock adventure race and that Bellerive is the safest environment for me to practice. Given that I am a prince and that—” He opens one eye to peer at me. “Don’t tell Maren this, Tucker, okay?”

I let out a deep sigh. Part of his schtick is to pretend as though Maren and Tucker are two different people. Poor Maren is always the heavy, and Tucker is his buddy. Today, I have no interest in being either.

“Uh-huh,” I mutter.

“I have no idea what I’m doing on this adventure race. Each part I can handle. Throw them together and, well, perhaps not so great.”

“You’re not that bad,” I say.

“That sounds almost like—” He pretends to think. “A compliment.” He leans across my body to put his wrist against my forehead. “Doesn’t feel like a fever…”

“Just tell me what you want,” I say. “Hye Jin, the producer for InterFlix, sliced me open, and I just don’t have the energy for this right now.”

“She did what?” He’s still stretched across me, and he stares down at me, all hint of teasing having vanished.

“It doesn’t matter,” I say.

“No,” he says, and his hand settles on my hip. Even through the blanket, my skin heats at the contact. “It matters. If she said something to upset you, it matters.”

I’m unsure what I should even say or admit. “She was trying to talk me into racing again. Said it would be a great comeback narrative.”

Brice eases away from me and lets out a slow breath. “But you don’t want to race anymore.”

The truth isn’t nearly that simple, partly because every day, the answer changes or shifts. If Enzo was supportive, it might feel easier to be sure, but he isn’t.

“I’m not even certain I should go to Fiji at all.”

“Not even on the support team?” He frowns. “Why not?”