Page 111 of King of the Crease

Hank extends his hands and helps me up. I’d almost forgotten how handsome he is. His hair is combed to the side, and he’s wearing a blazer. He cleans up very nicely.

“You’re back…in Sourwood.”

“I flew out on the royal jet. I didn’t want to miss opening night.”

“You got here fast.”

“I took the toll road for you.”

Hank’s big-eyed smile threatens to melt me on the spot.

I check my watch. “Isn’t the show starting? Where were you going?”

“I was going to catch a flight to Ardenia.”

Silence settles between us, warm and fragile. Every cell in my body has never felt more alive and alert.

“What do you think you’ll do now that you’re leaving the monarchy?” he asks.

“I’m not.”

His eyebrows jump up.

“I’m not renouncing my rights to succession. I’m going to be king when my father…”

“I heard. I’m so sorry. Watching a parent…it’s not easy. I’m here for you.”

“Thank you.” We stand there for a moment, snow dancing down from the clouds.

“So you’re going to be king?”

“I am. And I want you by my side.” It’s the first time I’ve said that aloud, and God, it sounds perfect.

“But what about⁠—”

I shake my head, refusing to get bogged down in what ifs again. For once, I’m choosing to live in the moment.

“We will work it out,” I say. Our fingers find each other in the cold air and lock together. “I still want to be your boyfriend.”

His fingers curl gently, like he’s checking I’m real. “Me, too.”

“I love you, Hank,” I say suddenly, my voice steady despite the vulnerability in it. “I tried to be noble. I tried to be responsible. But every place I went, every room I entered felt wrong without you in it.”

“I love you,” he says. “Never stopped.”

His grip tightens as he leans in for a kiss⁠—

But he stops an inch from my face.

“Your nose.” He points.

I touch my fingers to my nose and come away with blood.

“That door really got you,” he says with a nervous laugh. “There should be a first aid kit backstage. Let’s get you cleaned up.”

I press my nostrils together to stop the bleeding. He takes my free hand and leads me inside the high school past rows of lockers. The faint sound of the musical pours into the hallway.

“Hank, you need to know that my life is complicated. Public. Chaotic. Multiply that by a thousand once I’m crowned king. I cannot promise you ease.”