Page 55

I don’t understand why he’s suddenly pulling back when yesterday he wanted to talk. Heat crawls up my neck from embarrassment. Of course the first time I try to let someone in, they push me out.

I suppose it’s for the best. We were getting far too fucking close anyway.

I eat my dinner alone because Robbie hasn’t made any for himself. He potters around the house, tidying up.

I’m not sure how much longer I can stand the silence. Robbie is a loud person; has been ever since I met him. Loud and full of energy, always grinning—not whatever this is. I want him to go back to the Robbie I know and understand.

“Wanna race?” I ask.

He places a cup in the cupboard and dries his hands on a tea towel. His large biceps flex, and my eyes trace one prominent vein⁠—

No.

I force my eyes up. “You have a karting game, right?”

I’m sure I saw one the other day.

“Yeah … Yeah, we can play, I guess.” His brows furrow, and he looks confused that I’d ask to do such a thing.

I can enjoy myself; I just choose not to.

I turn the TV on, and Robbie follows me, picking up the controllers before slumping on the sofa.

“Wait.” I turn, run out of the room and up the stairs, shouting, “I’ll be back in a minute!” My pink pyjama bottoms are on the bed in the spare room, and I quickly swap my jeans for the soft fabric.

When I get downstairs, he looks me up and down, his mouth twitching slightly as though a smile is fighting its way through. But then his face turns serious again, and he shakes the controller at me.

I flop down next to him on the sofa, making sure our arms and thighs are touching. It’s stupid. What usually feels like too much is now not enough. Now that he’s not giving me his attention, I want it.

Robbie’s body stiffens as I press against his side. He shifts away slightly, and I follow, not giving an inch. I feel the heat of his gaze on me, but I ignore him and pick my controller.

“The princess?” he scoffs. “Of course.”

“Excuse me?”

“Nothing.”

“No—not nothing. Are you calling me a princess?” I raise an eyebrow in question.

His mouth twitches again, and this time he bites his lip, trapping his piercing behind his teeth as he grins. My chest warms and my stomach flutters, because I did that. I made him smile again.

“Would you like me to call you princess, sweetheart?”

The warm feeling in my chest trickles all the way down to my cock. I have no clue if it’s because of the heat of him touching me, or the thought of him calling me princess in that Scottish burr while his cock’s buried deep⁠—

I hunch over, resting my elbows on my knees to hide my crotch. I wanted to cheer him up, not fuck him. “Press play,” I snap.

After playing a few rounds and losing all of them, I slam the controller down on the sofa. “I’m going to bed.”

“Aw, don’t sulk. It was your idea to play.”

“Well, I expected you to be worse! Or, I don’t know, you could have gone easier on me.”

“I’ll never go easy on you,” he smirks, eyeing me like a predator would its prey.

I preen under his attention, and this time I don’t feel the usual guilt for wanting it. If he’s flirting, it means he’s not angry with me, or upset about Theo.

I hop off the sofa, stretching my arms up to the ceiling. My top rides up, my pyjama bottoms slipping down my hips, barely clinging on. I’m too caught up in the way he’s looking at me to remember why it’s not a good idea to flirt back. I walk away, swaying my hips as I go.