The Royal brothers watch me, waiting for me to tattle on them.
I don’t. “Everything’s awesome.” I take another bite of yogurt but my appetite is gone. “Your sons and I are just getting to know each other. Did you know they have a stellar sense of humor?”
Easton’s lips twitch. When his dad turns away, Easton’s palm grazes his crotch again.
“Did you enjoy the party last night?” Callum asks.
Reed cocks an eyebrow at me. Waiting again, this time to see if I’ll tell their father about the way they deserted me on the side of the road. I keep that to myself, too.
“It was great,” I lie. “Super fun.”
Callum joins me at the table, trying to provide a buffer between me and the guys, but his attention only draws sneers from Reed and Easton, who make no effort to hide their feelings.
“What would you like to do this weekend?”
“I’m fine. You don’t have to entertain me,” I answer.
He swivels in his chair. With an upward tip of his chin, he asks, “What about you two?”
The subtext is what are we going to do with Ella. It makes me cringe and a tightness that I’m beginning to call the Royal Pain appears between my shoulder blades.
“We got plans,” Reed mutters and walks out of the room before Callum can even open his mouth again. He turns to Easton, who raises both palms and blinks innocently.
“Don’t ask me. I’m the middle child. I do what everyone else tells me.”
Callum rolls his eyes and despite the tension, I snort softly into my bowl. Easton does what Easton wants. No one made him put his hand down his pants and proposition me. That’s a game he enjoyed playing and one he did without prompting. It’s convenient for him to pretend like Reed is his leader, absolving Easton of responsibility.
“Well, maybe you can let me know what Reed’s plans are for you later,” Callum grinds out.
Easton flushes. It’s one thing for him to cast Reed as a leader and another thing for their father to imply Easton’s a puppet.
“You never cared what I did on the weekends before.” He shoves the OJ carton back into the fridge. With a glare at his father that is hot enough to turn the hair on Callum’s head entirely gray, he walks off as well.
Callum sighs. “I’m not winning any father of the year awards, am I?”
I tap my spoon against the table a few times because I know better than to stick my nose where it doesn’t belong. But in this case, Callum is dragging me right into the middle of a messed-up dynamic and the collateral damage could get real bad if he doesn’t rein it in.
“Look, don’t take this the wrong way, Callum, and obviously you know your kids better than I do, but does it really make sense shoving me down their throats? Honestly, I’d rather they ignored me. It doesn’t hurt my feelings that they aren’t happy I’m here, and the house is big enough we could all go for days and not see each other.”
He scrutinizes me as if he’s trying to figure out if I’m being sincere. Finally, he smiles sheepishly. “You’re right. It wasn’t always like this. We used to get along fine, but ever since their mother’s death, the whole family hasn’t been right. Unfortunately, these boys are spoiled. They need a dose of real life.”
And I’m that dose?
I scowl. “I’m not an afterschool lesson. And you know what? I’ve experienced real life and it sucks. I wouldn’t force real life on the people I love the most. I’d try to protect them from that.”
I push away from the table and leave him behind.
Outside the kitchen, I find Reed lurking in the hall.
“Waiting for me?” I’m not even remotely sorry for the snide edge that’s crept into my voice.
Reed gives me the onceover, his gorgeous blue eyes lingering on my bare legs. “Just wondering what your game is.”
“I’m trying to survive,” I tell him honestly. “All I want to do is to make it to college.”
“And take a chunk of Royal money with you?”
I bristle. This guy just won’t let up. “Maybe with a few Royal hearts in my pocket, too,” I say sweetly.
And then, with a forced boldness, I lift a finger and trail it slowly across his naked pecs, my nail scraping across his smooth skin. His breath hitches, almost imperceptibly, but it’s there.
My heart leaps to my throat and blood begins to pound in places that I absolutely do not want to be associated with Reed Royal.
“You’re playing a dangerous game,” he rasps out.
Don’t I know it. Still, I can’t let Reed see he’s gotten to me. I pull my hand away, folding the fingers into a fist. “I don’t know any other way to play it.”
That bit of truth stuns him and I slip away. I’d like to think I won that round, but I feel like every encounter with Reed chips away at something vital inside me.
* * *