Her Royal Highness (Royals #2)(67)

Saks is still sitting against her bed, and she’s watching me now with her mouth hanging open a little bit.

Self-conscious, I stand up, dusting off the back of my jeans. “She’s just a lot greater than anyone knows,” I finally finish up, and Saks leans forward, asking me the question I was really afraid she was going to ask.

“Then, darling, why did you leave her?”





CHAPTER 38





The next few days are somehow even worse than I’d thought they’d be.



The school feels empty without Flora in it, and, as I expected, I spend way too much time Googling her.

I even set up an alert, which feels like a special kind of pathetic.

Dad knows something is up whenever we Skype, but I just blame my general sad-sackness on school, the weather, and being homesick, which is kind of true. Being home at Christmas seems really nice now, and I start marking the days off with a big red pen on my calendar.

I’ve got twenty-nine more days to go when I trudge back up to my room after class one afternoon, tossing my bag on my bed.

With a sigh—I am a champion sigher these days—I open my laptop. There’s an email from Lee, a missed Skype call from Dad, and . . .

Another Hangout message from Jude.

This one just says, Was thinking about you today. Hope you’re having fun up there in Bonny Scotland!

She sent it just three minutes ago, and without letting myself overthink it, I type back.

Hi. Yup, things are good here.

Her reply comes back an instant later.

Plenty of unicorns?

Smiling, I type back, A surprising lack of, sadly.

That’s a bummer!

I stare at the screen, wondering what to say next, when another reply comes in.

I miss you.

The cursor blinks at me. Those are definitely welcome words from Jude, and I realize I miss her, too.

But . . . not like I did a few months ago. I miss my friend Jude, not my almost-sort-of-girlfriend Jude. Because while what I felt for her was real—and while seeing her back together with Mason sucked a whole lot—it was always a tightrope with Jude. I never knew what we really were or how she really felt, no matter what she said about being an us.

Flora hadn’t called us an us, but we’d felt like one.

My fingers move quickly.

I’m not mad anymore. About what happened this summer. I don’t even know if I was mad, I guess. Hurt? I don’t know. But I’d like us to be friends again if we can.

And then, after a pause, I add, But just friends this time.

This time her reply takes a while in coming.

I’m sorry, Millie. Honestly. Really, really sorry.

And I’d like to be friends again, too.

I go to reply with a smiley face in return, but there’s more.

Besides, I see you have a very fancy new girlfriend now, lol. GLOW UP.

My fingers hover over the keys, wondering if I should tell Jude about what happened with Flora, but before I can, there’s a knock at the door.

BRB, I type to Jude, then hop off my bed to answer the door.

It actually takes a beat for my mind to absorb just who I’m seeing.

It’s Seb.

He looks a little worse for wear, his shirt a bit wrinkled, his jaw patchy with scruff, but it’s definitely him, leaning against the doorjamb.

“Roomie Quint,” he says with a faint grin.

“Brother Seb,” I reply, and his grin deepens.

I shake myself out of my shock and usher him inside.

I quickly realize I have no idea where he’s supposed to sit, given that the only options are the bed—nicer, bigger—and my desk chair—probably more appropriate. In the end, I don’t have to offer because Seb makes the decision himself, sitting heavily on the end of my bed, his elbows braced on his spread thighs.

“So,” he says on a long breath. “This is buggeringly awkward, but I’m here to talk about you and Flora.”

“I assumed that was it,” I tell him, taking a seat in my desk chair and slinging an arm across the back.

Seb nods, but he’s still looking around the room. “Who’re you rooming with now?” he asks, taking in Sakshi’s bed with its brightly colored pillows and striped sheets.

“Saks,” I reply, and he nods again, rubbing a hand over the back of his neck.

“She around? Wouldn’t mind—”

“No,” I say flatly, turning to face him more fully. “So can we get this over with?”

Seb leans back at that, his expression faintly surprised. “Get what over with?”

“Whatever this is going to be,” I say, wishing I were closer to the dresser so I could fiddle with one of my rock samples. The hematite maybe. Ugh, but no, then I’d just remember showing it to Flora, and— “You think I’m upset with you?” Seb asks. “Here to do some sort of patronizing brother thing?” Snorting, he shakes his head. “Trust me, love, I’m rubbish at that. I’m here because . . .”

Trailing off, he sighs and looks around again. “You wouldn’t happen to have a drink around here, would you?”

I blink at him. “As in booze? No, I, a seventeen-year-old, do not have booze in my dorm room.”

Seb mutters a rude word under his breath and slumps slightly before asking, “Are you in love with my sister?”