Page 63 of Royal Trouble
Xander stared at the ceiling in disbelief. How the hell had he gotten so lucky? Having a woman like Everly in his corner—let alone his life—had never seemed like a real possibility, but here she was, willing to fight for him even when he’d shown no inclination to fight for himself.
It was a bloody mind fuck. One he hadn’t seen coming.
She was beautiful, brilliant, and under that snarky exterior, she was hiding a heart of gold he suspected few ever got to see. It was a defensive mechanism, meant to protect her from the kind of pain that had defined her childhood in Valeria. He recognized it as easily as he’d recognize his own reflection in the mirror.
The same way he recognized her stubborn nature.
It was so easy for her to assess his situation and offer sound advice, but when it came to her own life, she couldn’t see past the pain. Couldn’t—or wouldn’t—let go of the past in order to embrace the future. But maybe she just needed a push.
A memory stirred in the back of his mind, and he rolled onto his side, propping his head up on his hand to match Everly’s pose. Her cheeks were flushed, and her dark curls were matted, sticking out at odd angles. Sex hair suited her, and he told her so, earning a quiet bark of laughter.
The sheet slipped a bit, revealing the swell of her breast. The sight of the creamy skin nearly derailed his focus as he recalled the taste of her citrus-sweet flesh on his tongue. Bollocks. How was he supposed to concentrate on anything knowing she was naked under there?
Right. Priorities. First talking, then fucking.
“So, you’re going to do it?” Everly asked.
“Do it?” he parroted back, eyes transfixed by her tits.
She rolled her eyes, an amused smile tugging at the corners of her lips, and pulled the sheet back up. “The test?”
A month ago, he’d have questioned her motivations—hell, even a week ago—but so much had happened between them, and he could see from the warmth in her eyes that her interest was driven purely by concern for him. “On one condition.”
“What’s that?” she asked, brows knitting together in confusion. “And before you even suggest it, sex is off the table.”
He snorted. “I wasn’t going to suggest sex, but now that you mention it…”
Everly gave him a playful shove, the mattress dipping as she changed positions. “Be serious.”
“I’m not the one who brought up sex, you little nympho.”
“Fair point,” she conceded, gripping the sheet tighter. “So what’s the condition?”
“I know you said you don’t want to see your father, and I get that, but have you given any more consideration to coffee with Katherine?”
“No.” There was no hesitation in her response, and her tone brooked no room for argument. Fortunately, he was never one to take verbal cues. They were really more like suggestions and open to interpretation.
“Why not?” He understood her hesitation. Hell, the idea of finally confirming his paternity once and for all scared the shit out of him, but Everly was right. It was time—well past, really—for him to know the truth, no matter how damaging it might prove.
Maybe it was also time for Everly to know her family.
“You sound like my mother,” she grumbled, dropping her head onto the pillow. “She told me I should try to build a bridge, whatever that means.”
“Smart woman.” Xander grinned. “Now I know where you get the brains from. Like mother, like daughter, eh?”
Everly twisted a strand of hair around her finger, not meeting his eyes. He hated to see her this way, and he considered backing off, but then he remembered the way she’d challenged him. She hadn’t given up when he’d thrown out excuses—valid ones—regarding the test. He wouldn’t give up on her, either. If she didn’t at least try, she’d spend the rest of her life wonderingwhat if?
It was no way to live, and the idea of her travelling down that road gutted him.
“Hey,” he said, reaching out to stroke her hair. “What’re you thinking?”
“Honestly?” She looked up at him from under her lashes, eyes guarded and wary. He had to look hard to see the feisty, ferocious woman who’d broken through his walls, but she was still in there. “I was so busy trying to prove my worth at Westbury that it became easy for me to justify the trash I published on RGW. I became exactly the kind of person I hate, twisted up this world of wealth and privilege. When I left, I promised myself I’d never let that happen again. I promised myself I’d never come back to Valeria, that I’d never let myself get tangled up in this toxic world again.” She sucked in a breath. “Why would I? It didn’t get me anything but more pain. Ignored by my father. Siblings who froze me out at school. Katherine never spoke to me, never acknowledged me. It was like I didn’t fucking exist.”
Her words pierced his chest, and for the first time, he truly understood the motivation for RGW. It was an outlet, a voice for a girl who’d been cast aside and stepped on. A girl who’d been told she didn’t matter.
And he’d stood idly by while Lotte and the others had gossiped about her, glad for once it wasn’t him they were gossiping about. The realization made him sick.
“I’m so sorry, Evie.” He took her hand in his, giving it a gentle squeeze. “You never should have had to go through that. Any of it.”