A Nordic King(79)



She drags me to the door and I look at Aksel over my shoulder.

He’s fucking pissed.

Is it wrong that it makes me feel a bit giddy inside?

We get in the car and Henrik drives us to the Ruby bar nearby, which I’ve always wanted to go to because it’s supposed to be hip and cool and all the things a normal twenty-six-year-old should be seeking out.

“Okay, so which Dane in here do you want to screw?” Amelie asks me.

We only got to the bar a few minutes ago and we’re sitting on a couch in the corner with a full view of the patrons. Only I’m just idly looking. I’m thinking of Aksel this whole time.

“Um, no one yet,” I say, taking a sip of my drink. It’s called a Nuda Veritas and it’s supposed to make me tell the truth. God, I hope not.

“No one? They’re all Nordic Gods. Dirty Danes. You know, if I didn’t have my boyfriend…” she glances at me. “You’re not even trying.”

I both sigh and swallow at the same time and nearly choke on the drink. “I don’t want to,” I say, coughing. “I’m fine.”

She squints at me. “Mmhmm. Yes. I can see that. Is that anything to do with your boss?”

I give her a steady look. “No.”

“He seemed rather concerned that you were going out. Is he always this controlling?”

Now, I can’t tell if she’s asking me this on a professional level or a friendly level, but even so, there’s only one answer. “He’s not controlling. I mean, he is a king and all and I’m his employee but if you’re asking me if it’s a problem, no. It’s not.”

He can be extra controlling in the bedroom, but I know that’s not what she’s asking.

Or, I hope that’s not.

“You do have a special…bond with him, no?”

I shake my head. “No. Not really.”

She leans forward, brushing her bangs out of her eyes to get a better look at my face. “Really?”

“Yeah,” I tell her, pasting on a smile. “It’s all fine. I love this job.”

She studies me for a few moments and then leans back in the couch, taking a long sip of her drink. “D’accord. Then all is well.”

I just nod.

All is well.

Until the night is over, and Henrik has taken us back to the palace.

It’s much later than I thought it would be, nearly 1 a.m., when we stumble up the stairs to our rooms. Amelie is in one of the guest suites which is near Aksel’s room and I figure that there’s no way he wants to see me tonight anyway. He’s either waiting up for me, seething, or he fell asleep.

I say goodnight to her and go to my own room.

I remove my clothes, step into a nightshirt and head to the bathroom, only then noticing a note on my desk.

I’m in your bathroom.

What the fuck?

The note has been torn from my day planner, which I don’t appreciate, and scribbled with a Sharpie. Only I don’t know if it’s Aksel or not since I don’t ever recall seeing his handwriting.

“Aksel?” I call out quietly.

I head to the bathroom door—which is closed when I know I left it open—and slowly open it, reaching in to flick on the lights.

Aksel is standing right by the door and I almost scream, jumping up and down in fright.

“I left you a note,” he whispers harshly.

“I know!” I cry out as softly as I can, my heart racing. “That didn’t make this any less scary! Why are you in my bathroom?”

“I needed to see you.”

“In my bathroom?”

“In your room.”

“So wait in the room.”

“I didn’t know if you were coming home alone.”

I nearly bite my tongue. “Seriously? You really thought I was going out to pick up guys?”

“Well why did you go out?” He comes out of the bathroom and I notice how wild his eyes are, the firm clench of his jaw. He’s mad. For no reason.

“I went out because I’ve been living in this city for half a year and I’ve never gone to a bar. That’s why.”

He mumbles something in Danish at that and I don’t care to know what it is. “Well, you could have told me that.”

“I didn’t tell you because it doesn’t really matter in the long run. I did it because Amelie came here, and she wanted to. And I haven’t had a girl’s night in a long time.” I pause. “Still doesn’t explain why you were hiding in my bathroom.”

“It’s hardly called hiding when you leave a note.”

“Whatever.”

“Don’t whatever me. Never whatever me.”

“Oh, sorry, whatever, Your Majesty.” I add under my breath, “Fucking opposite of majestic right now.”

“What?”

“Nothing.”

He grabs my arm. “It’s not nothing,” he says and beyond his frown and the sharp intensity of his eyes, I see the fear. “And nothing is whatever between us, do you understand? That’s not how we talk, that’s not how we work. We don’t just roll our eyes and ignore shit. We deal with shit. And that’s why I’m in your fucking bedroom right now because I couldn’t go to sleep with this weight in my heart.”

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