Royal Pain by Tracy Wolff

Author:Tracy Wolff
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Loveswept
Published: 2017-09-26T04:00:00+00:00

Chapter 18

Savvy

I wait all day for Kian to call, but he never does. Not that I really expected him to. He’s got other things way more important than me to deal with right now. It’s just…it’s just I really wanted him to call. Really wanted to know that last night meant something to him.

Which is stupid, I know. And unfair to Kian, considering he might have just gotten a lead on his missing brother—who also happens to be the heir to the Wildermar throne.

Garrett’s kidnapping shocked the nation, threw the country’s financial markets into absolute chaos and turned a lot of other things inside out. Including Kian’s life.

Because not only does he now have to deal with his private grief over his missing twin, but he also has to take on the duties of that twin and help steer the nation through the crisis. It’s a lot for anyone to deal with. Expecting him to worry about my feelings on top of all of that…it’s ridiculous, not to mention selfish.

I know all this. I really do. And I believe it one hundred and ten percent. But knowing it doesn’t stop me from checking my phone every fifteen minutes—even while I’m tending bar—on the off chance that I might have missed a text or a phone call from him.

Which I didn’t.

When two A.M. rolls around with still no word from Kian, I tell myself it’s no big deal. Tell myself that it doesn’t matter. That I’m expecting too much from a guy I’ve only slept with once.

It’s just…I really like him. I shouldn’t, but I do. And just once, I’d like someone that I care about to care about me the same way. To treat me with the same respect and concern that I try to treat them with.

No matter what that movie says, sometimes a guy not calling isn’t a sign that he’s not into you. Sometimes he really is just busy—especially if he’s second in charge of running an actual country. Or at least, that’s my story and I’m sticking to it.

Except, as I walk out to my car, I know that even that’s not true. It’s only been twenty hours since Kian walked out of my kitchen and into my head, and I’ve already let him go. Already convinced myself that he’s moved on like everybody else in my life. Already believe that I don’t matter to him any more than I’ve ever mattered to anyone.

After all, why should His Royal Hotness be any different than everyone else in my life?

As I get to my car, I can’t help pulling out my phone one more time, can’t help checking my messages one more time. Can’t help being disappointed when there’s nothing there. It’s not exactly a big freaking surprise, but still…

The drive home only takes about ten minutes—the great thing about a middle of the night commute is no traffic—and as I pull onto my street, I promise myself that I’m going to curl up on the couch with a pint of butter pecan ice cream and my poetry journal.

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