Cruel Prince (Royal Hearts Academy, #1)(27)

The man is proposing. Let him get some strawberries.

He smiles nervously. “Cheesecake is my favorite, but I know she really lov—”

“I assume you bought her a pretty ring?”

He nods emphatically. “Yeah, a little over two carats.”

She whistles. “Lucky girl.” She places an empty cake box on the counter. “Trust me, you want the cheesecake.”

His brows draw together as she removes a large one from the glass case. “But she likes stra—”

“Take it from someone who knows, young man. It is easy to halve the potato where there is love.”

Understandably, he’s confused. “I have no idea what that means.”

You and me both, buddy.

“It means,” she drawls as she closes, then tapes the box. “When you are in love, you share everything together without resentment.” She points to the now packaged cake. “Including this delicious cheesecake.”

Before he can speak, she punches some buttons on her cash register. “That will be $52.47.”

To my astonishment, the man pulls out his wallet and pays her before leaving with the dessert he didn’t ask for.

Her eyes shift to me. “Wednesdays after school from four to eight, and Saturdays six a.m. to eight p.m. The pay is twelve dollars an hour. No paid vacation or sick time. If you do well, I’ll add another shift.”

Her tone leaves no room for negotiation, so I accept. “Perfect.”

She opens the glass case again. “Are you a good baker?”

“Yeah,” I lie. “But you know what they say, there’s always room for improvement.”

She grunts. “How are your cleaning skills?”

“Top notch.”

At least that’s not a lie.

With a sigh, she sets a small paper bag on the counter and places a cannoli in it before handing it to me. “See you on Wednesday. Tell your aunt I said hi.” She holds up a finger. “Wait.”

I watch as she removes an apple turnover from the glass and drops it in the bag. “Her favorite.”

Funny, because I would have sworn her favorite was cinnamon rolls, but I’m not going to argue.





As promised, Tommy’s waiting outside for me.

“Thanks,” I tell him as I slide into the passenger seat.

“Did you get it?”

“After a few tries.”

When he raises an eyebrow, I elaborate. “Let’s just say she’s very picky about people’s dessert preferences.”

Snickering, he peels out of the parking lot. “I should have given you a heads up about that. My bad.”

An awkward silence descends after I give him my address and he plugs it into his GPS.

“Is your bro—”

“For what it’s worth, I’m glad you’re back,” he says at the same time.

I play with a loose string on my skirt. “I wish I could say the same.”

“Everything okay?”

“Yeah—no, not really.” I draw in a breath. “If I tell you something, can it stay between us? The only people who know are my family and—”

“Dylan.” He peers at me out of the corner of his eye. “I’ll never judge you. Fuck knows I’ve done my share of horrible shit. You can tell me anything.”

Here goes nothing. “My dad…he did some bad things at his job.” I swallow the prickle in my throat. “And now he’s in jail for embezzlement. It’s the reason I’m back. My aunt lives here with her husband and they were nice enough to take me in so I could finish my final year of high school.”

“Shit.” He exhales sharply. “Damn. I’m so sorry.”

“Yeah, it’s…I mean, I’m fine. My dad’s an asshole for stealing to impress his dumb wife and deserves to serve his time—but it’s still pretty embarrassing. Fortunately, it didn’t make national headlines, just a few articles in the local paper.” Nerves bunch in my stomach. “I’d really appreciate you not telling a soul. I don’t want everyone in town knowing my dad’s a thief or that he’s in the slammer.”

He reaches over and gives my knee a small squeeze. “Your secrets are safe with me.” The corner of his mouth tilts up. “If it makes you feel better, my dad’s been in and out of jail my whole life.”

It doesn’t. “I’m sorry.”

He shrugs as he turns down my block. “Don’t be. The guy is a loser. Always has been, always will be.”

“That sucks. I’m sor—”

“How about we stop apologizing for things that aren’t our fault?” he says as he pulls up to the curb alongside my aunt’s house.

That’s something I can agree to. “Deal.”

The awkwardness from earlier returns the moment he cuts the engine and faces me.

“I missed you.”

“Yeah, same here. It was good to see you again.” I fetch my messenger bag from the floor. “Thanks for the rid—”

“I tried getting in touch with you a few times after you left.”

Shit. This is the conversation I’ve been dreading. “I know. I’m sorry.”

I always meant to respond to his messages, but I was too busy trying to deal with all the new changes in my life.