Paper Princess (The Royals #1)(78)

“Let’s hear it.”

“Hear what?”

“Some more lies. You know, how last night was just you doing me a favor, you don’t really want me, yada, yada.” I wave my hand.

To my surprise, he laughs.

“Oh my God. Was that a laugh? Reed Royal laughs, folks. Someone call the Vatican because an honest-to-God miracle has occurred.”

That gets me another chuckle. “You’re so annoying,” he grumbles.

“Yeah, but you still like me.”

He goes quiet. I think he’s going to stay that way, but then he curses under his breath and says, “Yeah, maybe I do.”

I feign amazement. “Two miracles in one night? Is the world ending?”

Reed grabs a chunk of my hair and gives it a tug. “That’s enough outta you.”

I step closer to the water, but it’s even more freezing than usual. I squeal when it touches my toes, then dart back.

“I hate the Atlantic,” I declare. “The Pacific is way better.”

“You lived on the west coast?” He sounds grudgingly curious.

“West, east, north, south. We lived everywhere. Never stayed in one place for long. I think the longest was a year, and that was in Chicago. Or I guess Seattle was the longest—two years—but I don’t count that because my mom was sick and we didn’t have a choice but to stay put.”

“Why did you move around so much?”

“Money, mostly. If Mom lost her job, we had to pack up and go where the money was. Or she’d fall in love and we’d move in with her latest boyfriend.”

“She had a lot of boyfriends?” His voice is harsh.

I’m honest with him. “Yeah. She fell in love a lot.”

“Then she wasn’t really in love.”

I look over quizzically.

“That’s lust,” Reed says with a shrug. “Not love.”

“Maybe. But to her, it was love.” I hesitate. “Did your parents love each other?”

I shouldn’t have asked because he goes stiffer than a board. “My dad claims they did. But he sure as shit never acted like a man in love.”

I think Reed is wrong. Just hearing Callum talk about Maria, you can tell that he loved her deeply. I don’t know why his sons refuse to see that.

“You guys all miss her, huh?” I move the subject somewhere safer, but it doesn’t erase the tension in his face.

Reed doesn’t answer.

“It’s okay to say it. I miss my mom every day. She was the most important person in my life.”

“She was a stripper.”

His mocking reply makes my shoulders tighten. “So?” I come to Mom’s defense instantly. “Her stripping paid our bills. It kept a roof over our heads. It paid for my dance classes.”

Sharp blue eyes focus on me. “Did she force you to strip when she got sick?”

“No. She never knew about it. I told her I was waiting tables, which was true. I did do that, and I also worked at a truck stop, but it wasn’t enough to pay all her medical bills, so I stole her ID and got a job at one of the clubs.” I sigh. “I don’t expect you to understand. You’ve never had to worry about money a day in your life.”

“No, I haven’t,” he agrees.

I’m not sure if I move first, or if he does, but we’re walking again. A few feet of distance stretch between us at first, but as we walk, we get closer and closer until our bare arms are brushing with every step. His skin is warm, and my arm prickles each time we make contact.

“My mother was kind,” he finally reveals.

That’s what Callum said, too. I think of the woman that Steve married—Dinah, the awful shrew who has naked pictures of herself all over her home—and I wonder how two friends could have married such dramatically different women.

“She cared about people. Too much, maybe. She was a sucker for a sob story. She always went out of her way to help people.”

“Was she good to you? And your brothers?”

Reed nods. “She loved us. She was always there for us, giving advice, helping with our homework. And every day she’d spend alone time with each of us. I guess she didn’t want any of us to feel neglected or like she had a favorite. And on the weekends we’d all do stuff together.”

“Like what?” I ask curiously.

He shrugs. “Museums, the zoo, kiting.”

“Kiting?”

He rolls his eyes at me. “Flying a kite, Ella. Don’t tell me you’ve never done that.”

“Nope.” I purse my lips. “I did go to a zoo once, though. One of my mom’s boyfriends took us to this shitty petting zoo in the middle of nowhere. They had a goat and a llama and this little monkey that threw poop at me when I walked by.”

Reed throws his head back and laughs. It’s the sexiest sound I’ve ever heard.

“And then it turned out the zoo was a front for a drug dealing operation. The boyfriend was just there to buy weed.”

Neither of us comment on the drastic differences in our childhoods, but I know we’re both thinking about it.

We keep walking. His fingers graze mine. I hold my breath, wondering if he’s going to take my hand, but he doesn’t, and the disappointment is too much to bear.