Crux Year

Chapter Six - Shay

Friends? With Royal?

Even if I did think we could get along, there's still the dilemma of the Crux ceremony. On Friday, I'll know who I'm matched to. Then, I'll be spending all my time with them. I won't have time for Trace or anyone else.

Especially not Royal.

He's too...distracting.

Even now, with my parents so close, I'm unable to keep my eyes off him. His earnest expression troubles me for reasons I can't even explain. The taunting smirk he usually wears has softened to something more amicable under the overhead dining room light.

Lips, plump and almost red, draw my attention and keep it for far longer than I care to admit. A deep, craving settles inside my gut—a desperate desire to know what his lips would feel like pressed to mine.

Embarrassment surges through me, painting my flesh a ridiculous shade of red, making my thoughts practically clear as day. The urge to scratch at my neck is there, but with Royal watching my every move, all I can do is remain an unmovable statue. Erratic breaths escape me, rapid and quick. Words are sticky on my tongue, unable to escape.

I'm trapped.

Stuck in Royal Ever's penetrating gaze.

Since I'm growing more uncomfortable meeting his honeyed eyes, I let my own stare travel along his sharp jawline and to his strong neck. The corded muscles there tighten and flex any time he moves. His prominent Adam's apple bobs each time he swallows, making me want to touch him there to feel it move.

He fidgets, rubbing his palms along the top of his pants. As an anxious person myself, I immediately take note of the nervous movement. This small action tugs at my heart, confusing me in the process.

It's Royal.

Unflappable, troublemaking bratty boy.

Not someone real. Not someone like me.

Dishes clatter together in the kitchen drawing me from my thoughts. I clear my throat and stand, grabbing up my plate and Dad Oliver's empty one.

"I, uh, need to help my dads clean up," I mutter, not looking at Royal.

I find my parents in a loving embrace, causing my heart to trip over itself. It's all I want. I want love like this. Dad Spencer is attempting to wash a plate while Dad Oliver hugs him from behind, kissing his neck.

"I can do the dishes," I offer. "I don't mind."

"I'll help," Royal says from behind me.

I cringe at his nearness. My dads don't notice. They break apart and Dad Spencer dries off his hands.

"Thanks, Shay. You'll make a great husband one day." Dad Spencer winks at me. "Your future husband will be lucky to have you."

Dad Oliver confirms his words with a nod. He takes Dad Spencer's hand, guiding him past us out of the kitchen. Royal waits until they're gone to speak.

"Is that all you care about?"

I set the dishes down in the sink before turning on him. "What?"

"Being a husband. Is there more to your life than that or is that all you have to live for?"

His words lash at me, stinging far more than they should. "Without a family, what life is there?"

He bows his head, brows knitting together. His shoulders are tight with tension and the muscle along his jaw ticks.

"Adventure," he finally murmurs, his eyes lifting to meet mine. "Excitement. Discovery. Knowledge. Spontaneity. Friendship. Before all this nonsense, people did so much more than this."