Chapter 17

Chapter

Seventeen

Olivia

T he world was spinning slightly as I made my way to the fire escape, desperate for some frigid, winter air to sober me up and snap me out of it. The cider, which was deceptively sweet and obviously mostly rum, had left me feeling warm and fuzzy, but also a bit out of control.

I opened the back door and stepped onto the metal fire escape, welcoming the brisk night air on my flushed skin. Snow dusted the railings, and it sifted down below through the slats as my feet disturbed it. I took a deep breath, the cool air already clearing my head.

As much as I enjoyed Carl and his friends, their game had gotten a bit intense. At least when I’d ended up practically lying under Ruune. Being beneath him had felt too good, too tempting.

“He’s your fake boyfriend,” I told myself in a fierce whisper. “Emphasis on fake. No sex. No emotions. No falling for him.”

I usually didn’t have to remind myself not to get attached to guys. I’d never had a problem hooking up and moving on. But there was something about Ruune that was different. Not to mention the fact that he was Griff’s cousin. Since Griff was marrying my best friend, if things got awkward between me and Ruune, it would not be good. Things between us needed to stay fake for a reason.

"Escaping from Twister?"

I whirled to see Ruune emerging from the door to join me, his large frame making the space seem even smaller.

I stepped to one side to make room for him. "Just needed some air. It’s warm in there with so many bodies and so many wigs. And you?”

“Rhoda has a competitive streak that makes her a bit scary.”

I laughed. “You know what they say, the competition is so brutal because the stakes are so low.”

He wrinkled his brow as he considered this, and we lapsed into a comfortable silence as we both looked out across the other buildings and the alley. Even though this was hardly scenic, the dusting of snow reflecting the moonlight made it almost pretty.

After a moment, Ruune cleared his throat. "Were you serious about revising the rules?"

I twisted to look at him, studying his profile in the moon’s light. His jaw was sharp, and his skin looked almost impossibly blue. Something in my chest tightened at the sight of him.

"Maybe," I said, trying to keep my tone light. “It seems impossible to pretend to date without at least bending the rules.”

He turned to me then, his gaze holding mine. "I am not very good at bending rules without breaking them.” Then, slowly, he reached out and ran a finger down the side of my cheek. The touch sent shivers down my spine.

I swallowed hard, trying to ignore the way my heart was racing. “I’m not either. My mother used to say that I never met a rule I didn’t want to break.” I trailed off, gathering my thoughts. “I think we need to try. My mother will see right through the act if we don’t pretend to be into each other. And if I’m into a guy, I’m going to touch him.”

A growl rumbled from Ruune’s throat.

“We can hold hands without it getting weird, right?” I said quickly. “After all, we’re only pretending to be into each other.”

Even as the words left my mouth, I felt a pang in my chest. Was that really all this was?

Ruune's hand dropped from my face, and I immediately missed its warmth. "Right," he said, his voice oddly flat. “We are only pretending.”

We were quiet for a moment, the sounds of the party drifting to us from one of the back windows that was cracked open. Then Ruune asked, "Why is it that you never want a mate?"

The question caught me off guard. I took a deep breath, considering how to answer. "It's complicated," I looked away from him. "I've watched my parents' relationship my entire life, and it's not exactly a shining example of love and partnership." I paused, surprised at how easy it was to open up to him. "My mother is cold and only cares about herself. She's never worked, and the only things she has to occupy her time are shopping and society parties. And my father just lets her get away with everything. He works obsessively, probably to avoid dealing with her, so he was barely around when I was growing up. It was only me and the judgmental mother I could never please.”

I took a breath. "I never wanted that kind of life. I’ve been running from what my parents want me to do and to be from the moment I left home. The idea of being trapped in a loveless marriage, of losing myself and becoming this empty shell who only cares about how many wrinkles I can Botox away terrifies me."

I shuddered, more from the oddly vulnerable sensation than the cold. To lighten the mood, I nudged Ruune with my shoulder. "What about you, big guy? Why aren't you looking to settle down and make cute blue babies?"

Ruune's expression darkened slightly. “I understand parents expecting you to be something you are not, but I also know what it is like to have a family that barely notices you.” He bent forward and leaned his arms on the railing, the layer of snow coating the metal falling to the pavement. “As a third son, I was never expected to do much. I was one removed from the spare heir, and I am many Valorians down in the line of royal succession. My parents expected my eldest brother to be the serious one ready to take the crown if his cousins perished. The second son was expected to achieve greatness in the military. I was expected to do nothing. I suppose I've lived up to my family's low expectations."

My heart squeezed. I could hear the pain in his voice, even as he tried to laugh about it. But the sound was hard and brittle.

"I was ignored most of the time growing up— my older brothers were the golden boys. Why would I want to stay there? If I remained, I would be trapped in a royal life on Valoria, bound by protocol and duty, with no hope of being anyone of significance.” He shrugged, his gaze distant. "I have had more fun traveling the galaxy, meeting new species, being myself.”

It sounded both amazing and terrifying. "Don't you ever get lonely?"

Ruune turned to me, his eyes intense. He opened his mouth to speak, but before he could, we were interrupted by Carl's booming voice.

"There you two are!" he exclaimed, sticking his head out the window, his ringlets juggling. "You can't escape game night that easily. Besides, Twister is over. That cheating hussy Rhoda won. We’re starting another game.”

I stepped back, suddenly aware of how close Ruune and I had been standing. When Carl’s head vanished back into the apartment, I gave Ruune a small smile. The spell that had held us both in a magical cocoon had been broken and his trusting gaze was shuttered.

“We’d better go back before they send out a search party,”I said, my voice cracking. “Ida might actually own a pitchfork.”

Ruune opened the door wordlessly and held it for me, but as I returned to the party, I couldn’t help wondering what Ruune had been about to say.