Mated to the Alpha King (A Royal’s Tale Book 1)

Finding out that we were moving a month previously didn’t have me daydreaming about a lot of things. For the most part, I’d wanted to let the mystery continue; that the less I daydreamed, the less disappointed I would be. I’d forgotten that the less I daydreamed, the more shocked I’d be too.

What had occurred three days before, though, seemed like a very good candidate for a perfect daydream: a historical, lord-like being descended from the heavens above, talked to me, and held my hand.

I would have thought myself crazy, but the marks that remained from his grip on my arm acted as proof that I had in fact talked to the epitome of every straight girl’s fascination and imagination when they read historical romance.

There was no way to deny it. Bryce was a beautiful possible killer. But truth be told, that wasn’t it. His beauty—his charm—wasn’t exactly what had me so intrigued. There was just something about him; something just pulled me in—something warm and comforting. I didn’t know what it was, but I found myself back on the swing each day after school, waiting. And he would come.

Sometimes he would sit in front of the swing. Sometimes he would stand at the back and pull. And every day, for three days, all we ever talked about was those tiny things—likes and dislikes, jobs, and dreams.

I’d noticed, though, Bryce seemed to avoid some of the questions. Normally, that would have me alert, but I didn’t know why I couldn’t bring myself to suspect him. Then I’d spend my nights telling myself how big of an idiot I was.

The same sound of a bat’s cry rang through the woods, reminding me of the setting sun, just like every day, and I slumped on the swing a little.

Again, I sat on the swing, hoping he would come.

He didn’t. But the day’s end had. My nagging conscience that almost always turned out correct couldn’t help but warn me that being this friendly with a stranger could be incredibly stupid. And all because he looked really, really handsome?

I sighed as I turned to the darkening sky and finally got off the swing. Maybe he won’t come today.

Each step towards the back door felt like another lump of disappointment had settled in my throat. My feet climbed on the first step, my hand reached for the doorknob, and I stilled when another hand wrapped around mine.

“I’m sorry.”

I stared down at my feet as I let him hold my hand. “What for?”

He took a step closer, his feet thumping against the patio floor. “Being late.”

“It’s almost dark.” I shrugged. Turning around, I looked up into the bright-blue pools that Bryce called his eyes.

A small smile teased the edge of his mouth, and he leaned down lower. “I know,” he mumbled, curling a strand of hair behind my ear.

Breaking free, I made a move towards the back door. I reached for the light switch and turned the lights in the patio on. Moving back towards the large man, I sat on the patio bench. “How was your day?”

“Profitable. How was school?”

I shrugged. “Educational.”

Bryce smirked and began striding towards me, then he dropped on the sofa beside me. It felt strangely good. This was the first time we’d actually sat somewhere together, beside each other.

“You’re angry.”

I was, a little. I shook my head. “No, I’m not.”

Bryce’s smirk widened. “Yes, you are.”

Looking at him smirk, I slumped in my seat. “Okay, a little,” I admitted in a small voice.

Bryce edged closer and, for the first time, moved his hands over my shoulder. I stilled, and all the gnawing questions in my mind suddenly slipped out in one go.

“Are you engaged? Married? In a relationship? Do you have a kid? Or kids? Are you really even twenty-four?” I blurted out, finally asking him the questions I’d been wanting to ask him for days.

Bryce stilled beside me, and his grip on my shoulder tightened.

I cringed a little at his strength.

“No. No. Maybe. No. No. Yes.”

“Maybe . . .”

“So . . . it’s complicated?” I mumbled slowly, my mind on his relationship status.

So there was another girl.

“Yes.”

“Yes . . .”

It was already dark now. The moon was making itself known. Another night, another silky silver ball gown dazzling us with its rays.

“Oh . . .” I inched out of his arms and smiled awkwardly, then stood up and turned to him. “It’s getting late. I have to make dinner.”

Frowning slightly, Bryce got up too and rubbed his hands against his pants. “Want some help?”

Hands on the patio door, I opened it up and looked back at a smiling Bryce. I shook my head. He was in a relationship, and I didn’t want the other girl to feel cheated on.

“I’m sorry, but Mom said no strangers allowed in the house.”

I didn’t wait to see Bryce’s face or hear his response, so I moved back quickly. I turned away and closed the door behind me before bolting it.

***

Two hours later found me in my room, lying numb on my bed, and a cup of forgotten, chilled coffee on my study table. The sound of a car entering the garage rang through the air, and I let out a small sigh.

Mom and Dad were home.

My thoughts waded back to the blue-eyed man I’d met just hours previously, and a glance at my grandma’s wedding ring had me falling deeper into melancholy because his eyes were so like its shade—swiss-blue topaz.

I closed my eyes and turned away. Maybe there was something in Piedmont’s water that had every taken guy flirting with other girls. This was the second time this had happened to me. First it was Alex, and now Bryce.

It didn’t hurt so much with Alex, but Bryce . . .

Despite my closed eyes, a tear slipped out to its doom. It hurt more with Bryce.

“Honey, we’re home!” Mom yelled as I heard the front door shut.

Our home was fairly moderate in size, somewhat leaning towards the large side, but the neighborhood was quite quiet during the dying hours of the sun, so hearing the front door shut or open was easier during this period.

Feeling lame for having fallen into the same trap again, I shook my head. I then immediately put on a happy face, having decided I was going to smile until my face hurt.

“Hey, Mom! Hey, Dad! I’m just up in my room. Going to do some homework, alright?” I yelled as I stuck my head out of the door and waited for a reply.

“Okay, sweetie. We will let you know when dinner is ready. I feel like grilled chicken tonight! What you say?” Dad yelled back.

Despite my smile, another rebel tear slipped out, and I shook it away with an image of Dad seated in a chair. I could practically picture him sitting in a chair, placing his glasses aside and watching Mom as she stretched out a bit before cooking. It had been twenty years since they’d got married, but their love was still very apparent.

I wanted that. Whenever I saw them holding hands or sneaking kisses when they thought I wasn’t watching, or when Dad whispered into Mom’s ear and she turned red before swatting his arm, I thought, Yes, I want that.

I sighed and called out a reply to dad: “Sure, Dad! Chicken sounds great! Let me know if you guys need help.”

Maybe someday I will find my very own Mr. Soul Mate.

A pair of blue pools flashed before my eyes, but I chased them away.

Not him . . .

Still mentally scolding myself for having acted so stupidly, I walked into the bathroom.

A shower was in order.

***

I smacked the laptop shut before picking up the pieces of paper that had just been printed on—a 5000-word essay, done and compiled. After stapling them together, I placed them in a folder and padded to my bed.

I sighed in contentment as I slumped down, and my sore, strained back relaxed.

English essay: done.

Damn, I need to take posture lessons or something. This back pain is horrible.

Beside me, my phone flashed, instantly catching my attention.

“Oh Lord,” I muttered as I reached for the phone and unlocked it.

I know you’re mad. I know you’re thinking that I’m a dick, but I swear I don’t love Diandra. It’s just . . . Please just give me a chance to explain myself properly? Tomorrow, after school. Let me drive you home? Please.

— Alex

“What a dick!” I muttered, moving back to my Messages section.

I kind of felt bad for Diandra. I mean, sure, her soul seemed to be made up of castor oil, squids, and everything nasty. But surely, she did not deserve to have her boyfriend cheat on her. Alex was wrong.

Deciding to avoid Alex from now on, I tapped on Create Messages and typed up a text for Casey. It had been days, and I missed her badly. I made a sure note to invite her over for the holidays.

A beep sounded through the room, and I tapped on my phone eagerly, thinking it to be Casey.

Please, Theia. I apologize. I just want a friendship. Nothing more. Even Matthew kinda hates me now. Please just . . . text me back?

— Alex

My eyes stopped at Matthew, and I sighed. I didn’t exactly want friends fighting because of me. Just then, I noticed a reply from Casey, and my face brightened.

And you remember me now? I WANT TO SHOOT YOU! How dare you not text me all day! (Am I clingy enough? Are you pissed yet? ;]) Jesus, woman, you have to give me a detailed description of that Adonis guy. I am so jealous! By the way, Brian here was asking about you. Said he sent you a request on Facebook (ACCEPT IT, I SAY! That boy is a hunk.)

Text me back as soon as you can.

— YourBabyMomma x

I rolled my eyes, barely holding in a chuckle, as I typed my reply before curling up in bed. This time, thoughts of Bryce didn’t come crashing in, my mind too preoccupied with Alex and Matthew.

“Theia! Dinner is ready, sweetie!” Mom called out suddenly.

“Oh, thank God. I was dying,” I murmured, picking up the plate and cup, then proceeding to make my way downstairs.

Time for some grilled chicken and cheese!

***

The first thing I noticed as I entered my bedroom was the open window. The night air filled the room as a breeze danced past the light curtain, binding with it in a waltz.

I don’t remember opening the window.

I turned to make a sweep around the room, then my gaze stilled on the unlocked phone resting on my bed, its screen showing my wallpaper, the castle. A shiver ran through my spine. Someone had been in my room and gone through my phone.

Gulping down bile, I feebly walked towards my bed and picked up my phone to look for any clues as to what the person could have wanted. I quickly tapped on Call Logs and stilled. There was a missed call from Alex and also a received one. The call had been received only five minutes previously and lasted for ninety seconds.

So does that mean Alex knows who was here?

My hands shaking, I moved back to the Messages section. There were new messages from Casey and Alex, both unread yet marked as read—unread because I had not read them yet.

That’s it. Someone wants to kill you, Thi.

As if automatically, my feet pulled me towards the open window. I leaned against it cautiously, trying to make out any moving figure in the woods, but the night was stripped of moonlight, and the woods looked nothing but a dark game of Snakes and Ladders, where there were more snakes than ladders.

A howl rang through the air, and I instantly stilled.

Nobody had told me these woods had wolves. Oh God, wild wolves could be highly unpredictable!

As if the fear in me had bubbled to the extreme, I quickly grabbed onto the window to shut it but stopped when my gaze fell on a looming figure on the balcony of the castle. Silhouetted against the castle lights, the man turned and leaned on the balcony railing, facing straight in my direction. Then, as if without a second thought, jumped right off the fourth floor!

A shrill scream ripped through my lips as I stared at the same spot, which was now empty, my heart beating frantically.

A man just jumped off the castle balcony!

A man just . . . What the hell just happened?

Everything seemed silent. Even the crickets ceased to chirp, and I still stood there staring at the spot the man had jumped off.

Why would someone do that?

Now, a deadly howl rang through the night, and I almost peed my pants. It wasn’t every night you heard a wolf howling. Hearing one after someone had sneaked into your room was even stranger.

Come to think of it . . . Maybe I should call Alex?

“Honey! Honey, are you okay?”

Whirling around, I came face-to-face with my parents. Their panicked faces settled on a curious look when their eyes landed on me.

I shook my head. “Everything is fine, guys. I just screamed because an owl just flew into the window.”

“An owl?” Mom cocked an eyebrow up, looking suspicious.

“The window?” Dad chimed in.

“Honey, do we need to give you ‘the talk’?” Mom cringed as she made quotation marks with her fingers.

Dad looked like he wanted to hide.

Despite my fear and rotten mood, I smiled while shaking my head at the two. “No, guys, it’s alright. Honest.”

Looking a little skeptical, Mom nodded. Dad, however, smiled at evading the talk.

“Alright, if you say so, Fuzzy.”

The sound of the door closing echoed through the room, and after turning to the window again, I roughly closed it.

I glanced at my iPhone, then called Alex.

The ring went off twice before he picked up.

“Hello?” I mumbled, crossing my fingers on him being honest.

“Theia! Oh my God, it’s you! I thought that guy was going to murder me!”

“Guy”? So there was a guy in my room!

Should I tell Alex I didn’t know who he was talking about?

No . . . Play along, Thi.

“What happened?” I asked him, trying to sound as calm and concerned as I could.

The phone was silent for a bit, and I frowned as I pressed my ear against it, trying to hear the background voices.

Why isn’t he replying?

“I really wanted to talk to you, so I called you. The first time, no one accepted the call. So I tried again. A man picked up.”

I heard my voice hitch in my throat, my grip tightening on my cellphone.

It was official. I had a stalker.

“And?” I asked, urging him to continue.

“And he told me to leave you alone or he would kill me and how you belonged to him. He sounded very deadly. You didn’t tell me you had a boyfriend, Theia.”

Alex’s voice sounded a little bitter towards the end of his reply, but I ignored that. I didn’t care whether he was bitter. However, the fact that someone had been in my room and had called me his remained.

“That’s because I don’t. Thanks, Alex. See you tomorrow,” I mumbled back, distracted by what Alex had just told me.

Who could it be? I barely knew anyone. And who could climb the mountain to get to my room? No. It seemed impossible.

But then again, who picked up?

Suddenly, the ground began to move, and the walls twirled around me. The lights kept on fluctuating from dim to bright, then . . . nothing. The last thing I felt was a sharp pang as my head collided with the floor.

***

A groan left my slightly chapped lips, and I rubbed my eyes, trying to get rid of the last pieces of darkness. The softness under me seemed inviting, as if coaxing me to stay. But I couldn’t. I had school.

Getting up and moving against the headboard, I finally decided to open my— Wait, headboard?

Where the hell am I? Immediately, my eyes shot open, and the familiar soft-cream walls welcomed my jaded vision.

What was I doing in bed? The last thing I remembered was . . .

Oh my God, I fainted! How did I get in bed?

I clutched my hair with both my hands.

Relax, Thi—it must have been Dad. He checks up on you occasionally. He must have put you to bed. Calm down.

A sigh of relief left my lips as I got out of bed and walked over to the bathroom.

After walking out of the bathroom, I marched to the closet, all the while humming “Million Dollar Man” by Lana Del Rey. I avoided the heaps of lingerie Mom had been thrusting my way since I’d turned seventeen and picked out my plain white cotton panties and a matching white bra. After slipping them on, I proceeded to don dark-blue wash skinny jeans and a plain white V-necked, long-sleeved top.

“Keeping it simple today, Theia,” I mumbled to myself as I quickly brushed down my hair before pulling it up into a messy bun. After smacking on some lip balm and winged eyeliner, I grabbed onto my essentials and then marched downstairs.

“Good morning, Thi!” Matthew beamed at me as I walked into the kitchen with a very confused look on.

Mom grinned at me, wiggling her eyebrows, as she motioned to Matthew, who was happily munching on the french toast on his plate.

Mom loved cooking. Her love for food kept her trying out new things and creating her own versions whereas her passion for looking good usually kept her running for hours at a time after eating a hefty meal.

Oftentimes I found myself wishing I was like her, but apparently, walking around for even five minutes wasn’t something I was cut out for. I couldn’t work out to save myself.

“Hi, Matthew.” I smiled as I slipped into a chair beside him, and Mom immediately passed me a plate full of french toast and some coffee.

I smiled my thanks to her before proceeding to munch on the delicious toast.

“Hey!” I yelled suddenly when a chuckling Matthew stole a large gulp of coffee from my cup.

“Sorry. I finished mine.” He shrugged sheepishly, and my mother, who I had forgotten was observing our every move, giggled like a lovestruck teenager.

God, that’s it. I’m going to get the talk about the birds and bees again—for the tenth time!

I rolled my eyes. “Clearly!”

“So Dad finally got me that Jeep Cherokee I wanted. I paid the down payment, though,” Matthew mumbled as he managed to steal a piece of my french toast.

What is it with this boy and stealing my food? I glared at him.

“Mine,” I muttered stubbornly before I popped the last bit of toast into my mouth and gave him a very wide smile.

“You’re weird, Anderson.” Matthew stared at me with a weird look.

“Same to you, Jefferson.” I grinned back. I then quickly gulped down the remaining coffee and made my way to the sink.

“Can we go now?”

“Sure!” I chirped.

I waved goodbye to Mom, and flinging my backpack over my shoulder, I quickly rushed behind Matthew as he made his way to the black beauty standing outside.

Damn, this vehicle looks amazing!

***

“So what’s the situation between you and Alex?”

I shot my head towards Matthew as he continued to look onwards, at the road, his face free of any emotion.

“We had a falling-out.”

“What, because he tried to kiss you but didn’t tell you about Diandra and is now begging for your forgiveness like a madman because he suddenly finds himself liking you?”

I stared at Matthew, wide-eyed. How could he know these things? Was he—? No, no.

Matthew turned to me and smiled. “He actually texted me instead of you last night.”

Ohhh!

I shrugged. “I don’t care. It doesn’t matter, actually. But I don’t appreciate him attempting to cheat on the girl, no matter how awful she is.” I smirked at Matthew, and he chuckled at me and shook his head.

“You’re unlike anyone I know, Theia Anderson.”

“Well, it’s an honor, Matthew Issac Jefferson,” I replied in my British-woman impression.

He turned to give me a sour face when I said “Issac,” and that made me giggle.

I took a quick glimpse at my wristwatch and smiled.

It was 7:45 AM. There was a lot of time to have a library session.

As Matthew turned the car around the corner, I sneaked a glance at him. His brown hair was styled to form a slight quiff today, the tips of some of his hair shining blond as light touched them. He had a stubborn jaw, paired with that beauty spot I knew he possessed on his left cheek, which was adorable. His warm-brown eyes glowed red under the sunlight. Usually glasses hide the beauty of the eyes, but the nerd glasses Matthew was wearing actually made them look cuter and more innocent.

Now I knew why the female population of Rosenberg High fancied Matthew I. Jefferson so much. The guy was the perfect blend of adorable and badass.

“Are you done staring at me?” he asked with a chuckle.

Oh shit! I quickly glanced away as I felt the heat in my cheeks rising. Damn it! He caught me staring at him!

“Er . . . Shut up!” I retorted lamely.

“Alright, alright.” Matthew chuckled again as he drove into the school parking lot and found an empty spot.

“And we are here!” he declared as he removed his keys from the ignition, turned towards me, and smiled.

Maybe I should talk about Marley to him?

I knew it could ruin her image in front of him, but hey it could also help her out!

Well, worth a try, I suppose!

“So . . . Erm . . . I have to talk to you about something,” I chirped, still not sure whether I should tell him or not.

“Yeahhh?” Matthew drawled, still smiling at me.

“What do you think about Marley?” I asked him, trying to read any expression I could get from him.

His smile faltered a bit.

Oh shit!

But then it regained its original position.

Hope!

“She is a great girl. She’s pretty too,” Matthew replied.

He thinks she is pretty. Progress!

“So . . . er . . . I-totally-think-you-should-take-her-out-sometime!”

Matthew stilled.

Crap! You ruined it, Thi.

“I’m sorry, Thi . . . I . . . She isn’t my type. And my friend Keith likes her,” he mumbled, looking down at his palms, as if disappointed.

I frowned, curious. “Well, what is your type?”

He looked up at me for a bit before returning his gaze on his palm.

“Well, spit it out. Come on, tell Mama Thi,” I said in my best Jamaican accent.

He sighed. “The girl I want will have brown hair and shiny hazel eyes. Her lips will be as pink as a baby’s without applying those glosses girls apply nowadays. And when she blushes, her nose will also turn the color of a tomato. She’ll be simple and sweet and innocent. And when we hug, her head will be tucked underneath my chin; she will be that tiny.” He stopped and chuckled. “Her laugh will be the brightest thing in my world, and she’ll love books, just like me. Yep, that’s my type of girl.”

I stared at Matthew.

“And here I thought I had high expectations!” I blurted out and instantly gasped, slamming a hand over my mouth.

God, Theia, filter that mouth of yours! What if he takes offense?

Matthew passed me a light chuckle.

“I guess I do have high expectations,” he replied and got out, closing the door behind him.

Damn it.

I followed his lead as I got out and closed the door too before walking in step with Matthew, who had locked his van and was proceeding towards the school.

“I’m sorry!” I mumbled as my hand found the back of his shirt.

Looking back, he smiled and shook his head.

“It’s fine. Don’t worry about it.”

He turned around, then walked away while I just stood there, rooted in my spot.

Oh well. I am coming, my beloved library! At least you don’t get mad at me and my bluntness.

***

“Can you quit ruining quotes from Hamlet?” Marley demanded as she slammed a palm against her forehead.

I wiggled my eyebrows and popped my tongue out.

“To pee or not to pee—that is the question!” I mockingly cried out, quite loudly, forgetting that the English class was in progress and Mr. Harway was grading our homework.

Yes, it had been an assignment, which was too bad for kids who had skipped class.

Rounds of laughter and giggles surrounded me, and I gasped and looked around the room. Even Mr. Harway seemed to have heard!

“You may go to the washroom if you need to, Ms. Anderson,” he spoke, a mischievous smile still on his face.

Oh Lord, the old man . . .

I nodded and, cussing myself for the embarrassment I’d caused myself, slumped back into my chair. There was no way I was going to the washroom in this class—no way!

“So, you came with Matthew today, didn’t you? I heard he has a new Jeep. I was thinking of finally asking him, you know?” Marley whispered shyly.

Crap! Matthew . . . I turned around a bit and instantly locked eyes with him.

Shit! I hope he didn’t hear Marley!

After giving him a soft smile, I quickly turned to face her.

“I asked him today, about maybe asking you,” I whispered back, slightly nervous on how she was going to receive the news.

“OMG, what did he say?” Marley grabbed hold of my arm and pulled me closer.

Mr. Harway looked up at us but smiled when he saw me. I frowned at the thirty-two-year-old man.

“He said you’re pretty, but he doesn’t like you like that. He has a different type. Plus, uh, his friend likes you,” I mumbled after a slight pause.

Gosh, I hope she doesn’t take it to heart or something.

“Oh . . . And then what did you say? Which friend?” Marley whispered, her voice sounding sad.

I glanced at her, but she looked expressionless, so I continued.

“Are you okay? Well . . . I asked him what his type was then. And I can’t tell you the guy’s name. Wait till he approaches you.”

“And?”

I sighed, “Honestly?”

“Go on!” Marley pulled me even closer.

“Please, don’t change yourself for him.”

She sighed. “Okay . . . now tell me.”

“Well, brown hair, hazel eyes. She should like food. She should love reading, and when she blushes, her nose should resemble a tomato. Oh, and she should be tiny . . . like reach up to his chin or something.” I quickly glanced at her to find her staring at me with a weird face.

“Are you okay?” I asked Marley, concerned.

She smiled. “Yes . . . And hopefully he asks that girl out soon.”

She knows who he was talking about?

“You know who she is?”

She smiled and nodded. “We—”

Just then, there was a knock on the door, and Mr. Bishop walked into class. He and Mr. Harway had whispered between themselves before they both faced us, excited looks on their faces—well, on Mr. Harway’s face, at least. Mr. Bishop wasn’t much for smiling and stuff. In fact, he reminded me of Professor Snape.

“Well, as you all may know, we are to go on a class trip to Dovelore Castle,” Mr. Bishop spoke, instantly silencing the whole class.

I suppose everyone wanted to visit the castle.

I felt a glare on the side of my face and turned just in time to catch Diandra giving me the evil eyes before pulling Blond, who was giving me an apologetic look, closer.

I narrowed my eyes at her and then looked back at Mr. Bishop.

They didn’t deserve my time of day anyway.

“The visit has been rescheduled and will now be on the eighteenth of this month. As you all know, one lucky student will get a full-time scholarship at any college he or she may obtain an admission to, and another lucky student will have the privilege of spending his or her summer break in the castle should he or she wish to do so. The lucky student will also have the castle library and grounds at their disposal.

“Let me just point out that it is a very good opportunity to have brilliant literature and resources aiding you in your projects. The first settlement in Piedmont—remember, the more detailed, the better. Mr. Harway will elaborate more on this topic. You all have about two weeks. Please, be equipped by then,” Mr. Bishop told us and, with a quick smile, walked out of class.

Everybody turned to face Mr. Harway.

I guess everyone was interested in spending their summer at Dovelore Castle. I mean, I sure was.

“Okay, guys, so the student who gets the scholarship will be chosen as per their grades. So you guys better be wishing you did that homework well.”

“What about the student who gets to spend their summer break there?” I asked, truly curious. I wanted that library’s resources.

Mr. Harway smiled. “Planning on being that student, Ms. Anderson?”

Diandra snorted beside me, and I turned to glare at her.

“The books and the library do sound tempting, sir.” I smiled slightly.

Plus I needed to learn about that man who had jumped to his death.

Mr. Harway nodded, seeming content with my answer. “The student will be chosen by Mr. Wilhem.”

This seemed to grab all the girls’ attention.

Kendall, the school player, instantly shot her hand up. “Mr. Harway, will you please tell us something about Mr. Wilhem. I mean, we should, like, get to know who our host will be, right?”

Ugh, these girls.

Mr. Harway looked at her with a slight frown. “Mr. Wilhem is a twenty-four-year-old multibillionaire, entrepreneur, and owner of a whole lot of businesses. He also apparently holds the title of duke, inherited from his father. Also, he is British, obviously, and has freshly graduated from Oxford.”

“Woah!”

I clamped my mouth with my hand as I realized I had said that out loud. Moron.

“Any particular interest in Mr. Wilhem, Ms. Anderson?” Mr. Harway asked me, cocking an eyebrow up.

The class Barbie dolls snickered at his question, causing my blush to deepen.

“I—”

“It’s alright, Ms. Anderson. I’m sure half of the students thought Mr. Wilhem was a fifty-two-year-old man with a large belly and a broken nose.”

I nodded, thankful he hadn’t pressed me to answer.

It was the truth. I had in fact thought Mr. Wilhem to be old. And here he was, so young?

I wonder what this duke happens to look like . . .

“Probably scrawny and meek!” Marley answered, giggling, beside me.

I face-palmed. “I said that out loud, didn’t I?”

Marley giggled again. “Yes, you did.”

Moron!

***

After thanking Matthew for the ride home, I walked through the kitchen with the intention of going back to the swing. I didn’t know why I was going there. It was obvious Bryce wasn’t going to come anymore, and neither did I want him to. Still, he managed to terrorize most of my thoughts throughout the day.

It was only natural I suppose. It had been a couple of days, and I knew that even though I missed him and he had become a friend, he was taken. So I gave myself a month to fully forget about him and move on with one of my fictional lovers, hoping wholeheartedly that would work.

After slipping out into the back patio, I made my way to the beautiful bench with roses surrounding it. The swing seemed inviting, but I really just wanted to be surrounded by the roses; they were beautiful.

The wooden bench seemed harsh against my skin as I sat on it. The cushions, however, provided the softness I needed. Easing myself onto the bench, I lay on my side, my eyes on the swing.

Secretly I was waiting, I knew. Maybe he wanted to explain.

I shook my head. I was being pathetic. But still I waited, and waited, and waited.

He never showed. What did show, however, was sleep.

With the last of my hope gone, I let my eyes close. A quick nap would do no harm. Besides, there was a glass roof over the seat, so there would be no problem.

This bench isn’t bad after all, was my last thought before I finally let myself go.