Bad Boy Prince: A Modern Fairy Tale (Twisted Royals Book 3)

by Sidney Bristol

  This, being here, was about getting her free. Rescuing both her and her sister.

  That was it.

  “If things were different, do you think we’d have gone on a second date?” Freya slid her fingers against his.

  “I’d like to think yes, but who knows?” Jaxon shrugged. He wanted the first, second and fifth date, but she didn’t know him, who he’d been or anything.

  “You know you don’t have to pretend to like me?”

  “What?” He frowned.

  “I just mean... You don’t exactly seem interested.”

  “Wait, wait, wait a second. I asked you out.”

  “No. No, I’m pretty sure that was me.”

  “No.” He held up his other hand. “I distinctly remember we were standing in the back hall, near the bathrooms. You said something about getting coffee and I asked you if I could buy you a cup.”

  “You only asked that after I asked if you wanted to go get coffee.”

  “No, you didn’t.” He frowned.

  “Yes, I did.” Freya laughed.

  “Well, shit. I knew you were saying something, but...” He shook his head. And there he’d been getting himself ramped up to finally ask her out, and the opportunity had fallen into his lap. Or he thought it had.

  “I know I can be a little forward. Some guys don’t like that.”

  “That’s one thing I like about you. It sets you apart.” Jaxon pushed the forgotten food to the side. “Just so we’re clear, the only reason I was in that hallway was to ask you out.”

  “Really?”

  “Yeah.”

  “I was hoping you would. And wouldn’t.”

  “Why?”

  “Just...this last year.” She lifted her shoulders. “I feel like my life has been out of control, and I’ve been reacting.”

  “I know that feeling.” Jaxon shook his head. “A year and a half ago, I had a really nasty accident. Tore up my shoulder and spine. Really set me back. It’s like I’ve been in one of those hamster wheels you know?”

  “Yes, that’s been me, too.” Freya propped her chin in her hand. “You’ve seemed...happier lately.”

  He glanced over his shoulder, more from habit than a suspicion they weren’t alone.

  “I went back to school,” he said.

  “Really? I was going to start my PhD, but I put it off.”

  “Wow. Hey. I’m just wrapping up my undergrad right now.”

  “What are you studying?”

  Jaxon dropped his gaze to the table.

  No one knew he was back in school. He hadn’t wanted to share that information, because he knew what the family would say. That the odds of him being able to finish, to pay for it, were slim to none.

  “Right now, I just want to graduate is all.” He shrugged and glanced up at her.

  “Okay, well, I’m something of a school junkie, so if I can help at all, let me know. Though you are probably studying something way cooler than dead people.”

  “Let’s get you out of here first, then maybe I’ll take you up on that.” He still had a rough semester to go. Having someone who could nudge him in the right direction could be huge.

  He needed to keep his head in the here and now. It was great and all to think about what came after, pretending that they could go on a real date, but none of that would happen if the guys didn’t find Michelle.

  8.

  Freya could feel herself butting up against some kind of a wall between her and Jaxon. He said he wanted to ask her out, that he liked her, and yet he was holding back. He wasn’t opening up. Was it because of her circumstances? Or was this who Jaxon was? She didn’t actually know him outside of work. There were parts of him she hadn’t yet met, and maybe never would.

  It sucked that she’d finally felt like she’d been regaining control of her life, ready to ask out the cute guy she’d had her eye on, and this happened.

  One step forward, two steps back.

  It was the much less fun version of the Texas Two Step.

  Maybe she’d only imagined the sizzle between her and Jaxon. It was entirely possible.

  “So...what now?” she asked.

  “You could get some sleep. We could eat this food. I could make us another pot of coffee. Your call.”

  None of that sounded anywhere near as fun as what was in Freya’s head, which just went to prove that maybe she was the only one really interested.

  “You know, I am kind of tired. Maybe I should sleep.” Besides, it would be the first opportunity she’d had to rest without the threat of being awakened by someone who didn’t wish her well standing over her.

  “Okay, if that’s what you want to do.”

  She peered at him. He had a keen poker face. It was what had her waffling about asking him out to begin with.

  She’d been honest with him. She’d told him that she was getting mixed signals, and he was still holding back. Did he really think she’d turn on him? That hurt more than she wanted to admit, even if it was well founded.

  “All right. Good night, Jax. Thanks for the coffee.” Freya gathered her robe tight around her and stood.

  He leaned back in his chair, watching her with those shuttered eyes of his.

  “I’ll leave the door open, in case you want anything. Unless you’d prefer I close it?”

  “Either is fine.”

  She walked straight into the bedroom, not once looking back. She ducked into the closet, which was about as private as she could get. Her skin was too hot, likely from all the blushing she’d been doing. She slid the robe off and hung it on a hook. As pajamas went, the shorts and tank top weren’t that bad, but something about a nice robe usually made her feel...better.

  Not tonight though.

  She leaned against the wall.

  What the hell?

  What she wouldn’t give for things to be simple again.

  “Freya?” Jaxon’s voice was right outside the door.

  She closed her eyes and sighed. What now?

  “Yeah?” She stepped out of the closet.

  Jaxon loomed in the doorway.

  “When this is over... I’d like that rain check,” he said.

  She stared at him.

  And people said women were confusing.

  “Jax, for all you know, they might kill both of us tomorrow.” Freya had learned a lot about living in the moment. Embracing opportunities as they happened. Following her heart. Waiting for the perfect time, as she’d learned, was bullshit.

  “They won’t kill us.” He took a step into the room.

  “You don’t know that, and neither do I. Who’s to even say you’ll want that rain check once this is all over?” Or that she’d want it either.

  She turned to the bed on her left and flipped the comforter back. Maybe Jaxon wasn’t the guy she’d made him out to be in her head. Maybe the fantasy of him was better than reality. Though real Jaxon had one up on the fantasy version. She’d never imagined him coming to her rescue like this.

  “Freya.” His hand settled on her shoulder. He gently pulled, and she allowed him to turn her in place. He stared down at her, those shutters opening a bit, letting her in. “I don’t know what the right thing to do here is.”

  “I can’t tell you what the right thing to do is.” Were they even having the same conversation?

  The hand at her shoulder slid down to her waist. He tugged her closer and she stopped breathing. Her fingertips tingled. Was that a good sign?

  Jaxon cupped the back of her neck and bent.

  Her head was starting to spin from the lack of oxygen, or maybe that was just what he did to her.

  She grasped handfuls of his shirt in both hands as he pulled her up against him.

  His lips were warm. Softer than she’d imagined.

  She gasped for air. He suckled her lower lip between his, teasing the bit of flesh. She slid her arms up around his neck, the better to treat him like her personal jungle gym.

  Jaxon bent, tightened his grip, and lifted her. He s
wallowed her squeal of surprise with his mouth. She clung to his shoulders as he sat with her straddling his waist. His hand dug into her hair, forcing her to tilt her head. Not that she was putting up anything resembling a fight.

  Freya had wanted Jaxon, to kiss him, touch him, since the moment they’d met.

  She rocked forward, needing to get closer.

  His tongue swiped across her lips.

  All at once, her body was on fire. His touch soothed her, but there wasn’t nearly enough contact.

  She slid her hand around his neck, splaying it in the small space above his buttons.

  Jaxon straightened, breaking the kiss.

  She leaned in, wanting more, and he hugged her to him.

  “That’s why I didn’t kiss you earlier.” His chest rose and fell. He kissed her cheek.

  He’d resisted kissing her because it was good?

  Man logic was not her forte, clearly.

  Jaxon smoothed her hair down with one hand, the other stroking her back. She buried her face in the crook of his neck, willing this moment to last forever.

  “Freya?”

  “Hm?” Here it came. The let down.

  “Can you...? You’re sitting, like, right on my boner and not in a good way.”

  She sputtered a laugh and scooted over onto the mattress.

  He shifted, adjusting himself without shame.

  Well, that was nice to have out of the way. Or should it be in the way?

  He covered her hand with his, their fingers lacing together.

  “Don’t doubt that...I want to explore that,” he said.

  “When my mom died, you know what we were doing?”

  “What?”

  “We were planning what to do the next day. I was flying in, and we were going to have a whole day before an event. Just the two of us.” She turned her head, willing Jaxon to get it. “We keep thinking we have more time, that we can wait and do things later, but we don’t always get that later, Jax. We might only get now.”

  Because if Jaxon or his friends couldn’t find Michelle in time, Freya only had these days.

  “The week my parents died, we were getting ready for the family reunion.” He stared at the comforter, his gaze far away.

  “What happened to them?”

  “Me? Life?” He shrugged.

  “I’m sorry, Jax.” She scooted closer, until she could lean against him.

  “I get it, but...I don’t want to be someone’s reason for hating again either.”

  What had happened to Jaxon growing up?

  They sat like that for several minutes, each lost in their own heads.

  Jaxon yawned first, reminding her that he’d had a long, tiring day.

  “I’m going to lie down. Stay with me?” She scooted up the mattress.

  Jaxon had no qualms about coming to her rescue, but something dark had happened to him that left scars. Deep ones that inhibited his trust. She’d have to prove herself to him.

  He stood and toed out of his shoes without further discussion.

  She flipped the sheets back and slid into bed.

  “I’ll set a timer,” he said.

  Freya didn’t bother to tell him that she wouldn’t sleep. Not right now.

  Jaxon got into bed, clothes on, and settled on his side. She reached across toward him, only to find his hand groping for her.

  This, right now, was about trust.

  She burrowed in close, losing herself in his smell, the feel of his arms around her, and sighed.

  Yuri couldn’t touch this. What was between her and Jaxon was real, and worth exploring.

  Now, if they could only find Michelle.

  This night was burned into Jaxon’s memory.

  He couldn’t drown it in a bottle. There weren’t pills that would take it away. It was just there. It was a dream, but one he couldn’t escape. He never could.

  The hard crack of skin on skin was still as clear as the moment he’d first heard Mom hit Dad. Before that night they’d only ever yelled, not that their words were much better.

  “Jax? Jaxon?”

  That was different.

  When his parents got into a row, they forgot his existence completely.

  “Hey, wake up, Jax. You’re dreaming.”

  Soft hands cupped his cheek.

  He flinched away and opened his eyes.

  The moon lit room was not the dingy duplex.

  Jaxon sat up and rubbed at his face.

  Twenty years separated him from that night, but it didn’t matter.

  “Hey, you okay?” A warm hand lay on his shoulder.

  Freya.

  He glanced at her, or he meant to. The moonlight caught in her hair, giving her a glow. He’d always found her name humorous. Some sort of goddess. So far out of his reach, and yet, here she was.

  She laid her head on his shoulder and hugged an arm around his waist.

  “Sorry. Did I wake you?” His voice was rough, hoarse.

  “No, I hadn’t fallen asleep yet.”

  “Shit.”

  “I haven’t been sleeping much. I think you were out for a while.” She stared at him, her gaze inviting conversation.

  What were you dreaming about?

  It was written on her face. She might as well have asked. But he didn’t want to talk about it. He didn’t want to remember it.

  Jaxon eased back down to lie on his back. If he could get Freya to relax a little, maybe she’d get some rest. Clearly, he wasn’t going back to sleep any time soon. Not with those images in his head.

  Freya curled up against his side, her head on his shoulder.

  It was coming. She was too forthright to sweep things under the rug.

  “Where were you?” she asked.

  Right here.

  Yeah, that wasn’t what she meant and he knew it.

  Jaxon rolled his tongue against his cheek. Yeah, he remembered getting smacked, too, because he’d tried to stop his parents. But they’d been hell bent on destruction. It wasn’t a unique story. It was rather cliché, except it’d happened to him.

  “Jax?”

  He turned and kissed the top of Freya’s head.

  This was one of the things he’d rather not tell her. She came from a well-to-do family. Things like that didn’t happen in her world, and it would only be a mark against him. If his own relatives looked at him as the problem, why should she be different?

  “Bad dreams,” he muttered.

  She sighed, telegraphing her frustration.

  Was he a dick because he wanted her to think him better than he was?

  She’d hid her past because of her privilege. He hid his because of the stereotype. It was already hard enough being a bi-racial man with a foot in two worlds. And yet...when this was over, he wanted her. He couldn’t keep pretending he was anything except what he was, and that included his roots.

  “I have this reoccurring dream. More like a memory, I guess.” He let his gaze relax, the shadows going fuzzy. “My parents... They always fought. They were love hard, play hard, fight hard people. But...some things happened when I was almost ten. A relative died, and when they were dividing up the stuff left behind there was some fighting that happened. It got real ugly. Dad lost his job. Mom had to go to work. The whole mess drove a wedge between us and the rest of the family. It changed my parents. Mom started thinking she could hit on dad, only, he hit her back. No one was right, no one was wrong, but back then, I didn’t know any better...”

  The silence wasn’t cold. It was...comforting. No shocked gasps, no useless words. Just quiet.

  “I hated hearing my parents fight.” Freya tightened the arm around his waist. “Dad resented Michelle and me. He always wanted Mom to go to parties, be the pretty wife, but to her being a Mom came before all the public stuff. They fought all the time. I’m not sure who was happier when Michelle and I moved out, us or Dad.”

  “Then...”

  “Why did they have kids?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Mom w
anted kids, Dad didn’t. Here’s the thing.” Freya propped her head in her palm, her fingers drawing circles on his chest. “You ever hear that song Fancy? It’s a country western song.”

  “I’ve heard Fancy.”

  “Well, Fancy was kind of like my Mom. She was from a poor family, and she figured out pretty fast that the best way to get money to go to the local community college was by winning all the beauty pageants. There’s a lot where we live. She was maybe nineteen, when she won Miss Oklahoma. She used to let us wear the crown and sash.”

  “I bet it looked good on you.”

  “Michelle had the wave down better.” Freya chuckled. “Dad met Mom, and to hear her tell it, he swept her off her feet. Grandma was pretty honest with Michelle and me. Mom thought it was a whirlwind romance, but Dad saw it different. Dad loved the picture of Mom. He didn’t really love her. I never saw it, ‘til we moved out, but...she was a stranger to him. I think he assumed that they’d have a kid, a nanny would do all the work, and she’d settle into her place at his side, being pretty. But it didn’t work out that way. I think she loved parts of him, but it was never that...it wasn’t what I want for myself, you know?”

  “Yeah.” Jaxon knew all about wanting something different.

  “Sometimes I feel like Michelle and I got two different pictures of how things were.”

  “Why’s that?”

  “Because. The way she chooses to live her life. Though, if you listen to her, she’ll convince you the only thing she has going for her are her looks. That she was always a victim. How mean we were—are—to her. Any time she doesn’t get her way.” Freya’s brow furrowed. Worry. Concern. Jaxon knew that look well. That was Freya. Always concerned about others.

  “Sometimes you have to let people make mistakes.”

  “I know. I know. I know.” Freya dropped her face against his chest and groaned. “I don’t have to like it. We are who we chose to be.”

  He stroked her back and was surprised to find that most of the tension brought on by the dream was gone.

  “Was Michelle always like that?” He had a hard time picturing someone with Freya’s face being anything but...her.

  “Sort of. Michelle...has had issues with depression. We both have, but we’ve handled it differently. I’m more of a self-starter. I’d do something about it when things got bad, when I was sad or something. Michelle wanted people to make her happy. To do things for her. Did you have brothers or sisters?”