Broken Kingdom (Royal Hearts Academy #4)(56)

He pulls me closer, tracing little circles up and down my spine with his thumb as he tokes away.

I take the blunt from him and inhale. “Will you take me driving again tomorrow?”

He pries the blunt back from me and brings it to his lips. “Yeah.” A defeated sound escapes him, and he takes another long drag. “Fuck.”





“Holy shit,” I all but squeak as I step on the gas. “I’m driving…like down a real road. A road with freaking stop signs.”

Oakley’s smile is so bright I’m glad I’m wearing sunglasses. “I know. And bonus—you haven’t run anyone over yet.”

A rush of exultation runs through me as I continue coasting down the street. “Dude…I can’t believe I’m freaking driving.”

I feel so…normal.

I can’t help but smile.

Placing a hand over his heart, he mock-gasps. “Well, fuck me sideways, Bianca Covington. Is that a smile?”

Narrowing my eyes, I stick out my tongue. “Asshole.”

His grin grows. “You should do it more often.”

“For your information, I only smile when I have a good reason to.” My lips curve. “Thank you for giving me one.”

“We should celebrate.” He gives my knee a slight squeeze. “What’s your favorite thing?”

I open my mouth to say him and the huge thing nestled between his legs, but I don’t want to be corny, so I settle for my second favorite.

“Ice cream.”

His eyebrows shoot up. “Seriously?”

I make a face. “Don’t tell me you hate ice cream.”

The fact that Liam hated it drove me crazy.

“Nah, ice cream is the shit. I just see you eating healthy crap all the time so I’m surprised.” He points to the left. “There’s a shortcut to the pier if you turn here.”

I eagerly make the turn because the pier has the best ice cream stand.

My stomach dips when it occurs to me. “We might have a small problem.”

“What?”

“I still don’t know how to park.”

Oakley chokes out a laugh. “I got you.”

I know he does.





The look of sheer disgust Oakley shoots me is almost comical.

“Mint chip?” he questions as I happily lap away at my cone. “I thought you wanted ice cream…not toothpaste.”

So much for Oakley not judging.

We start walking down the boardwalk. “What’s wrong with mint chip?”

“Everything,” he says while gesturing to his chocolate cone. “Chocolate on its own. Awesome. Mint—cool.” He shakes his head profusely. “But chocolate and mint together? Motherfucking blasphemy.” His face scrunches. “It’s a mortal sin against taste buds.”

He’s wrong. So fucking wrong.

However, everyone has their flaws.

I walk over to a bench near a quiet area where there aren’t many people. “Maybe you just got a bad batch when you tried it.”

“Nope. Trust me, no matter how many times I’ve tried it, it always tastes terrible—”

Rising on my tiptoes, I press my lips to his.

I’m expecting him to push me away since we’re in public, but he doesn’t.

I faintly register the sound of something dropping before one of his hands grips the back of my neck, and the other curls around my hip possessively as he thrusts his tongue into my mouth.

Once again, I’m held captive by him…because no matter how much I give, he always demands more.

Like he’ll never get enough of me.

Moaning, I sag against him, but the sound is swallowed by Oakley’s ravenous kiss.

When he finally lets me go, I’m utterly breathless.

The tip of his tongue sweeps across his bottom lip as a lewd grin curves his mouth. “On second thought. It’s not so bad.”

Laughing, I give him a playful shove because we both know that kiss was a lot better than not so bad. “Dick.” I peer down at his cone that’s now a melting chocolate puddle. “You dropped your ice cream.”

Now that’s a mortal sin.

There’s a flirtatious glint in his eye. “Guess you’ll have to share more of yours with me.”

I go to kiss him again, but stop myself because I can’t make this nagging feeling go away.

I don’t want a marriage proposal or anything—because yikes—but I’d like to know what he’s thinking when it comes to us.

I swallow hard. “Oakley?”

“What’s up?”

“What are we doing?”

He cocks an eyebrow. “Having ice cream.”

I give him a look. “I meant this…us.”

Face screwing up, he takes a small step back. “I guess we’re having that talk, huh?”

I blow out a breath. “Look, I’m not gonna stand here and do that thing where I act like one of those hipster girls who are all, ‘I’m not like other girls, baby, I’m way better,’ and then pretend to be cool with something I’m really not just to keep a guy I’m into.” I pin him with a look. “I want what I want, and I refuse to apologize for it.”