Cracked Kingdom (The Royals #5)(10)

She dangles the bait, and against my better judgment, I ask, “What happened?”

“You cheated on him with Easton Royal.”

“Easton Royal? Cheated?” There’s so many things wrong with Felicity’s statement that I start laughing. “Okay. That’s hilarious. You can go now.”

If she’s going to make up stories, she should craft believable ones. The Royals make the Worthingtons look like poor white trash. The Royal mansion on Bayview Shore is so big you can see it from a satellite image. I remember exclaiming over it when I was in…what grade was I in? Sixth? Seventh? Kayleen and I talked about how even though there are five Royal brothers, the house is so big that they probably don’t see each other for days. There’s no way I’ve ever run into Easton Royal, let alone been in a situation where the two of us would hook up.

I don’t know why Felicity is telling these ridiculous tales. I guess she’s bored from waiting for her grandma to get better. I settle on that reason. It makes sense to me.

“It’s true,” she insists.

“Uh huh.” My instincts regarding Felicity were spot-on and I take comfort in that. Soon, all the details of my past will come into sharp clarity.

“Then what’s this?” She shoves her phone in front of my face.

I blink. And then blink again. And then do it a third time because I can’t quite believe what I’m seeing. Against the backdrop of a neon-lit pier, a gorgeous dark-haired boy is standing in front of me. His hands are twisted in my hair. My arms are around his waist. Our lips are fused together in a way that almost makes me blush. Under the picture, there’s a number of hashtags and what I assume is Easton’s online handle: #couplegoals #EastonRoyal #justRoyalthings @F14_flyboy.

“No.” I shake my head.

“Yes. Pictures don’t lie.” She takes her phone away and sniffs as if I mortally wounded her feelings. “Poor Kyle. You don’t deserve him but he forgave you for cheating on him. He’s here waiting for you but was afraid to come in. I told him I’d come in first. I know it’s hard, but try to be a decent person when he visits.” She gives me a scathing look before spinning on her ballet slipper shoes and heading toward the door.

I let her go because I’m reeling from the information she just spit out. Boyfriend Kyle? Cheated? Easton Royal? My brain stops at his name and my heart flips over. I take a shaky breath. Am I feeling like this because I have feelings for Easton Royal or because the picture Felicity showed me was so damned hot? It doesn’t seem possible that I would’ve been in a position to kiss any Royal, let alone one that looked as fine as the boy in the picture.

The Royals own this town. Their wealth puts Felicity’s to shame. Atlantic Aviation is one of the biggest employers in the state. The likelihood that I’d ever hook up with Easton Royal is as low as me winning the lottery. What did the doctor say? That truth varies based on the person who tells it? But like Felicity says, a picture can’t lie, can it?

The door squeaks as it opens. I turn toward the sound and see a stocky guy with wheat brown hair, small eyes, and thin lips. This must be Kyle Hudson. He looks like he’d rather be anywhere other than my hospital room. He drags his feet past the sitting area, stopping a few feet away from the end of my bed. I finger the nursing station call button.

Stop being such a baby, I chide myself. “Hey, Kyle.”

His name tastes unfamiliar. I wrack my brain for a memory or feeling, but nothing comes up. How can he be my boyfriend? If I’m with him, wouldn’t I at least have some kind of response toward him instead of this dark, blank void? Why did I cheat? Were we fighting? On a break? Was I drunk? Am I just a bad person? I don’t feel like a bad person, but then, really, how does a bad person feel?

“Hey,” he answers, busily inspecting the tile floor.

“You doing okay?” I ask. Maybe he’s afraid of hospitals and being in one makes him supremely awkward. Still, it’s weird that I’m asking him if he’s all right, while I’m the one growing bedsores from lying on my back in this bed for so long.

“Yeah. Great.” He sticks his hands under his armpits and throws a glance toward the door as if waiting for someone to save him. When no one does, he returns his eyes to the floor and mutters, “I’m, uh, excited to see you.”

If this is his enthusiastic mode, I’d hate to see the bored one. I dated this guy? It was love at first sight? We were all over each other? There’s less chemistry between us than I’d have with a rock. Maybe we didn’t even date, but we were just hanging out and realized we liked other people.

But Easton Royal? There’s no way we dated. No way. How would we even meet each other? He’s a rich kid, which means he attends Astor Park Prep, and I’m sure I go to North.

I wait for Kyle to say something else, but when he remains silent, I just blurt out, “I’m sorry, but I don’t remember you.”

“Yeah, I know.” He finally swings his gaze up to meet mine. His eyes are a muddy blue-brown, I note, and they don’t hold any warmth for me. “It’s okay. Felicity filled me in.”

“What’d she fill you in on, exactly?”

“That you lost your memory because you fell. You got some stitches under that bandage?” Talk of my injury animates him. That’s not freaky.

I lift my hand to the gauze taped to my forehead. “A few.”