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“ E asy now.” Wes tightened his grip as I swayed backward, about to fall. I wasn’t really sure what was happening, but all I knew was that I felt awful.

I closed my eyes, my fingers clenching onto Wes’s shirt for dear life. “Something’s wrong. Everything’s spinning.” Somehow, closing my eyes felt worse. What the hell was wrong with me?

“You’re fine. You’re just drunk.”

Drunk? I opened my eyes again and tried to take steps forward, only to feel my knees wobble. “I don’t know what that is.”

Wes smiled softly. “It means you’re a lightweight.”

“A what?” I tried to take another step and realized it was a bad idea. The world tipped sideways as I pitched forward.

“Whoa!” Wes wrapped his arm around my waist from behind, bringing my back up against his chest and keeping me from nose-diving into the red carpet.

My stomach churned. I brought my hands to my mouth and pushed firmly on my lips. I felt like I was about to throw up. “I feel sick,” I mumbled through my hands.

“Well, just make sure you hurl on the carpet. My dad will love that.” Even though I couldn’t see his face, I could hear the humor in his voice. Pissing his father off was clearly one of Wes’s favorite pastimes.

“Ugh,” I moaned. “I’ll keep that in mind.” I hated the way my stomach felt, the way acid bubbled up my throat. “I’ve got to lie down.”

“Yeah, I got you,” he agreed. And before I knew what was happening, Wes swooped me up into his arms, my head coming to rest against his shoulder as he carried me.

I groaned. “You don’t have to—”

“It’s fine, Mara. Just don’t throw up on me.

” The humor lingered in his voice, but the thought of vomiting all over Wes caused a wave of embarrassment that did not play nice with my stomach.

That was the last thing I wanted—to puke purple acid all over the guy who was trying to help me back to my room.

God, if this is what happened to people when they drank alcohol, people were freaking dumb.

Who the hell would do this to themselves on purpose?

I closed my eyes again, trying my best to take deep steadying breaths, begging the darkness to stop spinning.

I mean, how was that even possible? How could things be twirling around when there was nothing to see in the first place?

After a few bumps—and to my dismay, a few close calls—Wes shouldered the door to my room.

It swung open on silent hinges as he took several steps to the bed and laid me down.

Feeling the soft mattress and plush comforter supporting my weight felt so good, but it did little to make the world stop spinning.

“How do you feel?”

“Like crap,” I groused as I peeked my eyes open. He chuckled at my misery. “It’s not funny.”

“It’s hilarious.”

“I think your mom was trying to poison me.”

“Probably.”

“ What? ” I shot up, instantly regretting it, and threw my hands up to cover my eyes as I flopped back on the bed.

This time, he laughed. “I’m kidding. My mom didn’t poison you. It’s not her style.”

I peeked out from under my hands, arching a brow. “Meaning?”

He gave me that smirk of his, that crooked grin that left me feeling all mixed up inside.

“Meaning nothing. I’m just messing with you.

” He took several steps away from the bed.

“Let me get you some water.” He disappeared into the bathroom, and after a few minutes, came back with a glass of water while cupping his other hand.

Slowly sitting up, I took the glass from him. “What’s this?” I asked as he dropped two little blue pills in my palm.

“It’ll help you feel better tonight. You’re going to feel like shit in the morning, but it’ll help for now.”

Taking his word for it, I slung the two pills back and gulped water like my life depended on it, down to the last drop. Just as I was about to put the glass on the nightstand, Wes took it from me, walked to the bathroom, and returned with another full glass.

“Another one?”

He nodded. “But sip this one slowly. It’s better if you wait until the dizziness stops before you go to sleep. So, you might as well hydrate.” I sighed, taking the glass from him, and watched as he began stepping back toward the door. “Feel better,” he said unceremoniously.

“Wait.” I stretched my hand out toward him. “Don’t you think we should talk about what happened?”

Wes sighed as he tipped his head back, staring at the ceiling. “There’s nothing to talk about.”

I cocked a brow at him. “I might be drunk, or whatever the hell this is, but I’m not blind. What the hell was that?”

Wes rolled his head on his neck, lazily turning to face me. “It’s called ‘family drama.’ We’ve all got some, even here in the North.” He oozed nonchalance, but I wasn’t stupid. What happened at dinner definitely bothered him…more than he wanted me to know. He was pushing me out, shielding himself.

“Don’t do that.”

“Do what?”

“ That ,” I said hotly, throwing my hands up at him. The world spun again, and I quickly flattened my palms against the bed on either side of me, trying to stop the spinning. “You do this macho crap and act like a jerk. Don’t do that.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he deflected.

“ Baloney . You know exactly what I’m talking about.”

“Whatever. I’m going to my room.” He gave me his back and walked toward the door. “Go to bed, Mara. See you tomorrow.” It was an order, and that tone made me bristle.

Oh no you don’t!

I was so done with Wes always deflecting everything, hiding everything inside himself.

I wasn’t stupid, and I knew him way better than he would ever care to know.

And while I had no intentions of marrying him, I still considered him my friend.

Spinning room or not, I swung my legs off the bed, marched over, and grabbed his arm.

The action caused my whole body to tip sideways as my room twirled, but Wes’s steadying hands shot out and seized me by the hips.

“What the hell, Mara?”

I looked up at him, ready to tell him off, and then…I was hot.

Boiling.

Burning up.

On fire .

The urge to strip my clothes off to cool down seemed all too easy, made too much sense. My lashes fluttered as I tried to refocus on Wes. On how he was always shoving me out. On how he was always hiding from me. On how his life sucked, maybe just as bad as mine did.

“No, not me, you.” Did I just slur?

“What?”

“Stop hiding. Stop pretending like what happens with your dad is okay, because it’s not.

” I wobbled, clutching his arms tighter, loving the sensation of his skin under my hands.

“It’s not okay your dad says those things to you or treats you badly.

” I pitched sideways, Wes’s grip tightening around my waist, scorching my flesh.

Too hot. I was feeling too hot. I wiped my brow, eyes flickering over his chiseled features. Two beautiful lips, parted. I wondered what they felt like? I lifted my fingers, curious to touch. I wonder how they tasted—

“You should lay back down—”

A tremor shook through me as I shifted my gaze back to him. “Don’t try to change the subject.” What was I arguing with him about again?

Games. Hot, cold, hot, cold.

“I’m tired of the stupid games. I don’t want games anymore. What’s going on between us?” Wait, did I want to say that out loud? “And, god, why the hell is it so freaking hot in here?” I started pulling on my shirt, yanking the collar, lifting the hem as the wine bubbled in my veins.

“Stop it, Mara.” Wes’s hand snapped out, grabbing my wrist.

It was too hot. “How are you not boiling under all that smooth skin and tight muscle?” I tugged on my shirt again, feeling Wes’s hold tighten further. “Let go of me. It’s too freaking hot in here.”

“You need to go back to bed, Mara. Please , just go to bed.”

“Erg! I’m not an invalid!” I shot back, slapping at the hands that sought to control me. “I said stop!” Wes let go, and I stumbled backwards. “Your life sucks, doesn’t it?” I was loud. Did I mean to yell? Yes? No? “Tell me the real story.”

“Tell you what, Mara?” he yelled back at me, catching me by surprise.

“Tell you that my dad hates me? That Chase was the only one he ever cared about? Huh? Is that what you want to hear? Or do you want me to tell you he beats my mom and that the perfect royal family he paints us to be is nothing but the most scripted bullshit that has ever been?”

I froze, my heart seizing in my chest as Wes exploded in what I could only imagine was years’ worth of heartache and suffering pouring out of him.

“Is that it? Is that what you want me to tell you?”

“I—”

“No,” he interjected, “I’m not done yet.

You wanted to know everything, well now you’ve got it.

My brother was a good guy, but he idolized my father, and he would have done anything for his approval.

” Wes stepped back from me, running his fingers through his hair, causing the strands to loosen from the ponytail he always wore nowadays.

“Nothing matters to my dad. All that matters is power. Power and more power, and it doesn’t matter to him how he gets it as long as he has it.

It doesn’t matter to him what happens to the people around him as long as it’s a strong political move. ”

I tried to breathe, my lungs aching for oxygen. But I was frozen, the world spinning faster with each new revelation.

Wes paced, the chaotic energy within him making his movements discordant and fast. “Want to know why he hates me so much? Huh? Why I’m the black sheep?

Because I refuse to kiss his ass. Because I push back every time.

But every time I step out of line, he hurts my mom more, hits her harder.

So now I have to be careful. I have to pick which battles I fight because she doesn’t deserve it.

She doesn’t deserve to suffer because I don’t want to be his fucking pawn. ”

Oh shit. I was at a loss. What do you say to something like this? Wes was…he was trapped.

“I’m sorry—”

He waved me off. “Whatever,” he said as he turned away from me, taking another step toward the door.