Page 47 of Fallen Crown

“How is he?” I ask.

“About how you’d expect. Unraveling at the seams and hoping no one notices the holes.”

The description, so close to how I’ve felt more than once, cuts me to the quick.

“I’m glad they called you. Some of his friends … they would have tried to stitch the holes with gambling, alcohol, and women.”

“That’s one way to cope,” I whisper, thinking of when I found him at the climbing wall on the estate, drunk on tequila.

“Used to be the only way.”

This is, perhaps, the longest conversation Jag and I have had since Brice and I began training together. Most of the time, any discussions we have revolve around safety concerns or timing. It makes sense that he’d know Brice—having spent so much time with him—but I’m surprised he’s offering me any of his observations. I’m tempted to ask him whether the secret entrance is still used regularly.

“Did Brice ever tell you why he wanted to do this adventure race?” The few times I’ve asked him, he’s been evasive.

“You mean besides avoiding what was happening with his dad?” Jag stares out the side window.

My heart contracts at his honesty. I’ve always suspected the training was a form of coping, which is exactly like me.

“That’s a good enough reason.”

“The other part—“ Jag gives me a slight smile. “Is that he wanted to best you. Was dying to prove you wrong.”

“We didn’t exactly get along.”

“But now,” Jag says as though I didn’t say anything, “I think he wants to impress you. Two sides of the same coin—just the motivation has changed.”

“I’m sure he’s always trying to impress someone.” My comment is flippant to combat the way his claim made my chest swell with an emotion I don’t want to name.

“He’s never had to work so hard for it.” Jag rubs his chin. “If I had to guess, I’d say he’s enjoyed the challenge.”

Without meaning to, I tighten my grip on the steering wheel. There’s something about being told I’m a challenge that grates on me. Enzo told me that when we first started dating. While I always say I was a puddle at his feel at first glance, he never felt like I was. The last thing I need is to start feeling any kind of anything for another man seeking a challenge.

Not that I’m feeling anything. Going to Boston established I miss love and attention and affection. None of that is about Brice, specifically.

Jag sends me to a parking spot marked for staff, even though my vehicle isn’t the kind a staff member, however well paid, would drive.

Since I’ve never been to Brice’s suite of rooms before, Jag walks with me, navigating through the maze of rooms and corridors, but he’s done telling secrets, which is fine by me. All I need to know is that Brice tells people we have nothing to hide, and we don’t. I haven’t done a single thing to feel ashamed or embarrassed about when it comes to him. Friends behave the way we behave around each other.

Jag stops outside a heavy wooden door before drawing it open. “He’ll be in his room. Third door on the right. If he won’t let you in, just come back here and I’ll escort you out.”

“Right.” I’d forgotten there was even a chance he wouldn’t see me. A nervous sweat breaks out across my palms, and I slide them along my thighs as I walk.

At the third door, I glance toward Jag, but the door to the suite of rooms is closed now. Knock, and he’ll either answer or not. Simple.

But my heart is threatening to pound out of my chest. It’s worse than sprints up a hill. With one hand pressed against my heart, I knock with the other one. Someone approaches the door, and I hold my breath, prepared to plead my case or leave him alone. I’m not even sure what’s going to come out of my mouth.

When the door draws back, my chest tightens at the mournful expression on his face. Raw, unfiltered grief greets me, and it’s the sort of emotion you only show someone you trust. To realize he’s not concealing this side of himself, that he’ll open the door to me when he wouldn’t to others, is a rush. A flood. A torrent of emotion.

I don’t know what’s going to happen tonight, but it already feels more profound than anything I’ve ever experienced with anyone else. There’s a particular kind of connection between teammates when you know they’d risk life and limb to keep you safe, the same way you would for them. That’s powerful, and until now, I’ve never known there was anything stronger than that.

But there is. I can’t name it, and I don’t understand it, but what’s running between us is a new level of intimacy. Whatever he needs from me tonight, I’ll give it to him. Without question. It’s what I craved months ago after my fall, and I won’t let him down the way I was let down. He might have lots of people who’d happily take my place, but he opened the door for me, and I take that responsibility seriously.

Chapter Twenty-One

Brice

Even before I open the door, something inside of me senses it’s her. I can’t explain it, and I don’t want to think too hard about what that might mean. All I know is that when I swing back the door to my room, and she’s standing there with an expression that’s part hope and part sorrow, I’ve never been so glad to see someone.