Cruel Prince: Royal Hearts Academy - Book One

by A. Jade

  Fortunately, I don’t have to, because a sleepy, shirtless Jace sticks his head out. “Dylan?” His face falls when he looks down at me. “What’s wrong?”

  “Everything.” My voice cracks as every ounce of emotion I’ve been holding back for the last few months bursts wide open. “My dad…he…Savannah. Everything is wrong, Jace.”

  Since his room is located on the second floor, I begin mounting the large tree that slants toward his room, but he halts me.

  “It’s pouring outside. You’ll slip and hurt yourself. I’ll unlock the front door.”

  Before I can remind him I’ve climbed the very same tree over a dozen times, he’s ushering me inside his house and up the staircase.

  I try my hardest to be quiet so his dad doesn’t wake up, but my sobs betray me.

  It feels like I’m losing my mom all over again.

  Only worse…because I’m losing everything right along with her now.

  My memories. My family. Even Jace is slipping away.

  “How could he do this to me?” I choke out as fat, ugly tears rivulet my cheeks. “How could he marry her?”

  Anger splashes across Jace’s face. “Shit. I’m s—”

  “It’s three in the morning.” Mr. Covington’s confused gaze bounces between us. “What is Dylan doing here?” Before either of us can say a word, he pinches the bridge of his nose and sighs. “I was afraid something like this might happen. I know you two care about each other, but you’re not old enough to be having sex—”

  “Jesus, Dad,” Jace argues. “I’m not fooling around with Dylan. Can’t you see how upset she is?”

  He blinks as he takes in my tear-stained face. “Oh.” He rests his hands on his hips. “Look, I’m sorry, but I still don—”

  Jace grabs my hand and wrenches me up the remaining steps. “I don’t care what you think. Dylan’s staying.”

  Mr. Covington starts to say something, but Jace slams and locks the door behind him. “He’ll go back to sleep soon. He always does.”

  I’m so cold my teeth chatter. “I didn’t mean to get you in trouble, I just didn’t know where else—”

  “It’s fine.” He grabs a hoodie off the back of his desk chair and hands it to me. “Put this on.”

  His cool, clean scent fills my nostrils as I slip it over my head. Most of the boys in my grade smell like cheese, sweat, and onions, but not Jace.

  He always smells like freshly washed laundry right out of the dryer. Warm and familiar. Personal and intimate.

  After carefully maneuvering my wet tank top off, I slide into the bed next to him.

  On instinct, he drapes an arm around my midsection and tugs me until my back is pressed against his chest.

  Sneaking out to Jace’s bedroom in the middle of the night to cuddle has been our little secret for the last two years. It’s not something we bring up, and it doesn’t happen all that often. Just when one of us is missing our mom so bad we can’t take the pain and we need to be around someone else who understands.

  Like my dad, the Covingtons don’t like to talk about their mother either. Especially Liam and Bianca, since they were in the car during the accident.

  According to Jace, the only one who brings her up from time to time is Cole.

  But he only talks about the happy stuff. The Hallmark, cookie-cutter moments.

  Never the important things.

  Like how sad and depressed his mom became a few months before she died.

  Or the fact that Jace is the only one who knows why she was so upset.

  Well, Jace, Mr. Covington…

  And the woman he cheated on his wife with.

  Jace wants to confront him about it and tell his siblings the truth, but he feels like if he does, he’ll be taking the only parent they have left away.

  Given my current situation, I can understand why he’s so hesitant.

  “It hurts.” My chest is so full of grief and heartache, I’d probably sink right down to the bottom of the deepest ocean. “It hurts so much.”

  He holds me tighter as I ride out the next wave of pain. “I wish I could fix it.”

  Me too.

  “He promised me,” I whisper between sobs that soak his pillow. “He promised he’d never forget about her or get a new family.”

  “I know it sucks, but you still have me.” There’s a serious edge in his tone, as if this promise is one he’s determined to keep. “I’ll always be here.”

  “It didn’t feel like that today,” I say before I can stop myself.

  The limbs wrapped around me tense. “I know.”

  I’ve always been the kind of person to push the envelope, and this moment is no different. The thought of losing him terrifies me and I need to know our friendship will survive my stupid crush.

  “I hate fighting with you, Jace. It feels like fighting with myself. It ruins my entire day and every day after that…until I know we’re okay again.”

  “Same.” His heart speeds up and mine follows suit. “I don’t have a problem fighting with anyone else in my life. But fighting with you…it seriously fucks my head up.” His voice drops to a whisper. “It was the same way with my mom. Whenever we’d argue—I couldn’t stay mad at her for long. It would eat me up inside because I knew how much she loved me. And even though I hardly ever said it back, I...” His voice trails off.

  “She knew you loved her.”

  Jace might not ever say it, but I know he needs to hear it.

  I keep talking when he stays silent, hoping he won’t shut down.

  “She was really beautiful.” The first time Jace let me watch one of her old Bollywood movies, her beauty rendered me speechless. “She really lit up the screen.”

  His forehead finds the crook of my neck and he lets out a heavy sigh. “She always smiled in her movies.” I can feel the shift in his demeanor. “She was great at putting on a show. Hiding behind a mask and pretending everything was perfect when people were watching. Cole’s a lot like her.”

  I shift to face him. “He’s not the only one. You might not be as obnoxious as your brother, but you keep people at a distance.” I brush the hair out of his eyes. “Only let them see what you want them to see.”

  He levels me with a look. “We both do.”

  He’s got me there. With one small exception.

  “Not with you. You get all of me.”

  I’m not sure what to make of the expression on his face. It’s a strange mixture of pleasure and turmoil. “Don’t.” He averts his gaze. “You have to stop doing this, D. It’s not fair.”

  To say I’m baffled would be an understatement. “What’s not fair?”

  “You.” He unwinds his arms from around me. “Being around you when you’re like this.”

  He’s not making any sense. “Like what?”

  He sits upright. “I need you to stop having feelings for me. Or we can’t…” He crosses his arms. “If you can’t control yourself, we can’t be friends. It’s as simple as that.”

  I’d almost laugh if he didn’t look so serious. “If I can’t control myself? You’ve got to be kidding me.” I stand up so I can locate my shoes. “Do you hear how stupid you sound?”

  I can handle my best friend not having feelings for me. What I can’t handle is him being so hot and cold about it.

  One second Jace looks at me like I’m the answer to some unspoken prayer. But the next? It’s like I’m the Devil dragging him on a road trip to Hell.

  “Don’t leave,” he mutters when I finish tying my sneakers.

  I glare at him. “Don’t be a vapid asshole.”

  The first time I called him vapid during a fight, he stomped off and didn’t talk to me for two days. After we made up, he confessed he hated the word because that’s how he felt after his mom died.

  Devoid of color and feeling. Dead. Just like her.

  I’m about to apologize for hitting below the belt, but he narrows his eyes.

  The next words out of his mouth are the equivalent of a knockout p
unch.

  “I wouldn’t have to be an asshole if you’d learn to take the hint and quit being a desperate parasite.”

  Anger brews in my gut. Screw him.

  He’ll see how desperate and dependent I am when I never speak to him again.

  “Better a parasite than a coward,” I toss out as I walk over to his window.

  It’s pouring again, but I’d rather be caught in the rain for an entire week than be anywhere near him.

  I can feel him behind me. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  Being careful not to slip, I open the screen and slowly start guiding myself out the window. “Not everyone can keep their feelings bottled up inside for eternity because they’re scared.” I stretch my arm out toward the tree branch so I can swing myself over. The rain is beating so hard it’s hard to focus. “I’m not a robot like you are. I can’t pretend not to feel—”

  I yelp when my hand slides off the branch and I lose my balance. I’m almost positive I’m going to plummet, and my face will break my fall, but Jace grabs my legs and hauls me back, causing me to bump the side of his house instead.

  He doesn’t bother hiding the mocking glint in his tone as he wrangles me through the window frame. “I told you it was dangerous.”

  After gathering my bearings, I turn to face him. “Want a cookie?”

  “Considering you’ve burnt every single batch you’ve ever made; I’ll pass.”

  Now he’s just being petty. “I’d rather be a terrible baker than a vapid coward.”

  His eyes flash. “Call me that one more time and I swear—”

  “What?” I goad. “You won’t talk to me for a few days? Threaten to end our friendship?” I jab a finger in his chest. “Guess what? I no longer care because we’re no longer friends.” I shove him with every morsel of frustration and rage I have flowing through me. “God, I can’t believe I gave my heart to such a cruel, vapid, cowa—”

  It happens so quickly, I’m convinced I must be dreaming.

  Because why else would Jace Covington—my best friend turned crush turned enemy—be kissing me?

  But he is.

  Jace is kissing me.

  And it’s…

  I don’t know. I’m still too shocked to breathe, let alone move.

  I want to kick myself when he pulls away.

  “You talk an awful lot of shit for someone who can’t back it up, Taylor.”

  I want to wipe the gorgeous smirk off his face. “I can back it up, Covington. Trust me.”

  “Then prove it.” His hand finds the curve of my hip. “Kiss me like you’re mine. I dare you.”

  I coil my fingers around the nape of his neck. “I am yo—”

  His mouth is on mine so fast he nearly knocks all of the air from my lungs.

  It should be nerve-wracking, considering I haven’t done this before, but it’s not.

  It’s alleviating. Like scratching an itch you’ve had for months.

  Only ten million times better.

  Jace’s lips are every bit as full and soft as they look. I want to stay right here and kiss him forever.

  The room starts spinning and I’m fighting to catch my breath when the tip of his tongue enters my mouth.

  It’s a curious flicker at first. A quick tease that makes all my nerve-endings stand on end.

  Then he groans and goes back for another taste…and everything becomes more.

  More heightened. More intense.

  As if neither of us can get enough.

  One hand grips the back of my neck while his other goes to the small of my back, drawing me closer.

  How I ever thought Jace was vapid is beyond me, because right now—I feel everything. His need, his hunger…all the rage that simmers below the surface.

  He’s the opposite of colorless.

  Jace Covington is blue.

  A beautiful, turbulent ocean full of depth…and an incandescent sky that only gives you small glimpses of all its radiant colors…before turning gloomy and dark.

  “I see you,” I breathe between kisses. “You’re my favorite color.”

  I expect him to tell me I’m a weirdo, but his lips curve into a smile before he pulls me toward his bed.

  My stomach freefalls when my back hits the mattress and he settles on top of me.

  Jace might not act like his feelings for me are mutual, but he’s kissing me like he’s been trapped in the desert for days and I’m the only source of water for miles.

  As if he wants me every bit as much as I want him. Maybe even more.

  But that’s not possible…because I’ve never wanted anyone or anything more than Jace Covington.

  There’s a heady tug in my lower belly when his hand slips under my sweatshirt and his fingertips trail along my abdomen.

  Part of me is grateful. The other part of me is…worried.

  I can’t help but think if he was alone with Britney right now, she’d have no problem letting Jace go to second base.

  For all I know, they already have.

  “God, your skin is so soft.” The tip of his thumb traces the edge of my bra. “Is this okay? I can stop if you—”

  “Take my shirt off,” I blurt out.

  Another groan escapes him…then before I can process what’s happening, he’s on the other side of his bedroom.

  As if he can’t get far enough away from me.

  “Did I do something wrong?”

  “I did.” He drags a hand through his hair, gripping the short strands. “I never should have kissed you.”

  It would hurt less if he ripped my beating heart out with his bare hands.

  “Why?”

  “Because you’re not mine to kiss.” Frustration lines his features. “It was a mistake.”

  I sit up and look at him. “If kissing me was such a mistake, then why did you keep doing it?”

  The silence stretches between us for what feels like hours before he speaks again. “I wanted to see if I felt anything for you.” He looks me right in the eyes. “I don’t.”

  White-hot pain infiltrates my rib cage until it latches around my heart like a vise.

  Jace kissed me like he loved me. Like he wanted me as much as I want him.

  “I don’t understand.”

  “I don’t need you to understand. I need you to accept it and stop.”

  He makes it sound like I’m trying to seduce him every second of the day. “Stop what?”

  His pupils nearly spear me with the severity of the storm swirling inside them. “Stop trying to make me feel something more than friendship, because it won’t ever happen. Ever.”

  His statement is like a guillotine. Final.

  I curl my arms around myself. Jace has pushed and pulled me around so much; I’m surprised I don’t have whiplash.

  “I want to go home.”

  The irony. Considering I came here to escape what was happening there.

  He nods. “I think that’s a good idea.”

  The prickle of tears lodges in my throat, but I refuse to break down in front of him.

  “Dylan, wait,” he says as I approach the window.

  The traitorous organ in my chest takes flight. “What?”

  His throat bobs on a swallow. “I figured it would be best if you heard it from me first.”

  “Hear what?”

  He shoves his hands into the pockets of his flannel pajama pants. “I’m taking Britney to the dance.”

  It’s like I don’t even know who he is anymore.

  Neither of us says a word as I crawl out of his bedroom. Out of his life.

  “D-d-dylan!” Liam calls out when I reach the end of the driveway.

  I’m not really in the mood to talk to anyone, but because it’s Liam, I stop walking.

  “Are y-y-you ok-k-kay?” he asks when he catches up to me. “Jac-c-ce s-s-said you’re upset.”

  Seeing as I just left, it’s weird he would know that. It’s even weirder that he would send Liam after me. “When? Why would he tell you that?�
��

  He shrugs. “He t-t-texted me and t-t-told me t-t-to c-c-check on you.”

  Un-fucking-believable. “Tell your stupid brother if he’s so concerned about my well-being, he should quit being such an asshole and stop sending his little brother to do his dirty work.”

  His face falls. “Oh.”

  He reaches for my arm when I start walking. “W-w-wait. Let me w-w-walk you home.”

  Normally I wouldn’t mind, but all I want to do is go home and sleep.

  Hopefully when I wake up, the last twenty-four hours will all be some horrible nightmare, and everything will be back to normal.

  “I appreciate it, but I really just want to be alone right now.” I gesture to his house. “The sun’s almost up. You should get some rest.”

  He frowns. “Oh. O-k-k-kay.”

  I’m passing their mailbox when he utters, “By the w-w-way. T-t-thanks for the T-t-tommy t-t-thing.”

  I’m not sure what he means. “What Tommy thing?”

  “He mes-s-saged me on Ins-s-stagram and s-s-said you w-w-wouldn’t be friends w-w-with him if he w-w-was mean to me, s-s-so we’re c-c-cool now.”

  That’s not exactly what transpired, but if Tommy stops being a prick to Liam, then I’m happy.

  I give him a smile. “That’s awesome. See? I told you things would get better.”

  He grins. “S-s-see you at s-s-school.”

  Chapter 14

  DYLAN

  I shouldn’t be surprised Oakley ditched me again.

  However, I am pissed.

  My aunt—who’s also not picking up her phone—texted me earlier to say she scored me an interview with Mrs. Dickinson after school.

  I’m so desperate I scan the mostly empty parking lot for Sawyer’s minivan.

  Of course, there’s no sign of it.

  I glance at my watch. “Shit.”

  I’d walk, but it’s on the other side of town and my interview is in exactly seventeen minutes.

  It will take me at least forty-five to get there on foot. Thirty-five if I start running now.

  I rummage through my purse for my phone so I can check my bank account. I have exactly sixty-three bucks, which is enough for an Uber, but not enough to get me lunch the rest of the week.