NOT ROYALE ENOUGH [18+]

17.

❥ SARAH ❥

I was relieved when Christopher left the room without a word, prompting me to finally ask the question to myself.

What the hell just happened?

I'm still trying to piece it together, trying to decide whether it was real or if I ate something bad, but the gnawing in my stomach makes the latter seem more likely. Chris acted like a crazy person-completely broke down-and then I hugged him?

And that's not even the weird part.

The weird part is me not asking him what the hell happened, what pushed him to the edge, why he looked like he was having a full-blown breakdown. Even when he kissed me forcefully, even when I bit his lip to snap him out of it, I didn't ask.

My first instinct was to slap him hard across the face, to call him every name in the book that would cut deep, make him feel the sting of his actions, and then kick him out of the room.

That was the plan, and it was solid-until I saw a tear slip from his eye. It was like a single drop of water breaking a dam. He stumbled back, touching his lip where a barely noticeable trickle of blood smeared across it.

He looked so scared, like he'd just committed the gravest sin imaginable. Sure, what he did was wrong-indecent, even-but this fear was on a whole new level.

My eyes were drawn to his hands first. They were trembling, his breath quickening, his beautiful face streaked with tears, chest heaving as though the very act of breathing was a battle. His entire body was tense, shaking as if he might just collapse.

And then he did.

"I'm sorry," he kept repeating, over and over, until the anger I felt drained away, replaced by shock. I was confused, trying to understand the way his eyes bore into the floor, like he was hoping it would open up and swallow him whole.

I don't know how or when, but I suddenly found myself running toward him the moment his knees hit the ground. My arms wrapped around his neck, and I completely forgot that I was still wearing a towel, my body still damp.

My mind just screamed that I needed to calm him down.

I patted his back softly, the way mother used to calm me and James when we cried. The rhythm of it, gentle and steady, felt instinctive. He needed that-needed me-and I was relieved when I sensed that it was working.

The silence between us was thick, suffocating. His arms gripped my waist tightly, and normally, I would have pushed them away, told him to back off. But I didn't.

Christopher needed me, and I knew I had to hold it together until he found himself again. Until he was okay.

"Will you still go on that date with me? I'm starving, and I don't think biting my lips counts as a meal," I said, desperate to lighten the moment. My words earned me the most beautiful laugh I'd ever heard from the man right in front of me.