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Authors: Lyla Bardan

A Sprint To His Heart (11 page)

BOOK: A Sprint To His Heart
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“You said you loved me, Piran, yet you kept this secret from me?” I couldn’t keep the hard edge out of my voice. “You
lied
to me.”

“No,” he said in a pained whisper, reaching for me. “I did not lie to you.”

Snatching my hand away, I retreated further. “You kept this from me on purpose. That’s a lie in my book. You could have told me you’re a damn Fae prince!”

“Bailey, that is not who I am.” He closed his eyes, and a deep sigh crossed his perfect full lips. “I mean, that is not who I want to be. That is why I came here to America. To escape a life I do not wish to lead. To escape the expectations forced upon me.”

As much as I tried to ignore the twinge of guilt in my brain and hold onto my anger at his deception, I couldn’t even begin to understand how it would feel to be in his shoes. The rules, the worries, the lack of privacy.

“No, Piran. It
is
who you are,” I said softly. “You can’t change who your parents are and you can’t escape their expectations, no matter how far you run.”

My gaze flicked to his parents, and their imperial expressions re-ignited the burn inside me, making me want to bare my teeth and growl like the uncultured American I was.

I took another step back, away from the man I loved. “I need to go. I need time to think.”

“No, Bailey, please.” He closed the distance between us and clutched my hand to his chest. “I need
you
.”

I shook my head so violently, my skull hurt. “I can’t do this. Not right now.”

My eyes stung, and my legs trembled. But mostly, my heart ached.

He hadn’t trusted me with the truth. The man I dreamed of every night, fell in love with, and joyfully pleasured turned out to be somebody I didn’t know. A Fae prince.

Nick was right. I’d been nothing but a plaything. A way to practice. A way for Piran to earn his human wings
incognito
.

“No!” he rasped, his face a stark white.

I stared at him, my heart torn apart and my emotions a jumbled mess. Part of me wanted to grab him, hold him close, and never let him go, even with his not-so-welcoming parents watching. But I didn’t. It could never work between us.

He was a prince, and I was the furthest thing from a princess.

His father’s disdainful snort scraped across my raw nerves, and I shoved off Piran’s hand, stumbling over my feet, catching myself at the last moment before I slammed into the stupid Venus sculpture. The Goddess of love. How fucking ironic.

“I’ve got to get out of here. I need to find my mom. She’s probably looking for me.”

I turned and staggered toward the lobby doors. I needed time. I needed distance.

“Let her go,” I heard Tolmin say behind me.

God yes, just let me go.

Chapter 11

I ran through the art gallery crowds and finally found my mother by the cocktail bar, talking to some woman.

“There you are,” Mom said, catching my eye and waving me over. “I wondered what was taking you so long.” A sly smile spread over her slender face. “I take it you found Piran?”

I didn’t bother answering. I just wanted to get out of there.

“Bailey, you remember our former neighbor, Mrs. Lorenstein?”

Oh crap. Not now. I shuffled my feet impatiently.

“Yes.” I nodded to the woman I barely knew even though she’d lived right across the street from us. I clasped my mother’s arm, gritting my teeth. “We need to go, Mom.”

“But honey, I haven’t seen Piran’s paintings—”

I tugged. “Another time.”

“Is something wrong?” She studied my face, and the creases around her eyes tightened. “Oh boy. Something’s wrong.”

Yeah. Understatement of the year.

Mom gave a hasty good-bye to Mrs. Whatever, and I hustled her out the lobby doors. Immediately, I sucked the cool, fresh air into my constricted chest.

“What happened?” My mother pursed her lips. “Did you two have a fight?”

I couldn’t speak, afraid I’d scream from the top of lungs that Piran of Sava was a first-class jerk and I was an idiot…and that my heart had broken into a gazillion pieces.

“Bailey, you can tell me.” Her tone soothing, she brushed a hand over my hair.

“Piran lied to me,” I replied in a small voice, wanting to crumple into my mother’s arms, in a way I hadn’t in years. But before my emotions erupted in a meltdown in front of everyone, I squared my shoulders and lifted my chin.

So my boyfriend hadn’t been upfront with me about his family. There were far worse lies. Maybe I was just blowing this out of proportion.

“Oh honey. What did he lie about?”

“Piran is a prince.”

Her brow furrowed. “Excuse me?”

I took another deep breath to steady myself. “I just found out that Piran’s parents are the King and Queen of Sava, the largest Fae province.”

Mom’s eyes widened, her mouth forming a tight, pink-frosted
O
. Then she turned and began walking toward the underground garage without saying another word.

Maybe I wasn’t blowing this out of proportion after all.

We continued walking to the car in silence. She opened the door for me, and I climbed in.

“Mom?” I prodded, clicking my car seat buckle. I couldn’t imagine what she was thinking about her tomboy daughter dating a Fae prince. Self-conscious? Proud?

She backed out of the parking space and put the car in drive. “Perhaps it’s time you cool things off with Piran.”

While the idea had definitely crossed my mind, her words still felt like a knife in the gut. Part of me wished she would have at least recognized that a prince picked
me
.

I picked at a hangnail until it bled, working up the courage. “Why? You don’t think I should date a Fae prince?”

She merged onto the freeway, and her lips pressed together. “Have you given any thought about a possible future with Piran?”

Shrugging, I stared out the side window. “Not really.”

“Do you honestly believe he’d marry you someday? You’re not Fae, much less a Guardian Fae. I’m not trying to be insensitive, honey, but certainly, you must be aware that you’re not the kind of girl a prince would take for a wife. And while his parents rule an entire province,
your
parents work their butts off simply to pay the mortgage.”

Tears welled in my eyes, but I kept my focus on the traffic.

Mom cleared her throat. “As my mother always said, there are plenty of fish in the sea. And while that might sound like a stupid saying—”

Yeah, it did
.
I crossed my arms.

“—my point is there are many wonderful boys who would love to date you.”

Uh-huh. Look at ‘em all lining up and down the street.

“If you just gave them half the chance. It wouldn’t kill you to dress up once in a while. Wear make-up to accent those beautiful eyes of yours. Get some highlights in your hair. Then be friendly and engaging! Perhaps talk about something other than bike racing.”

I glared at her, but she didn’t notice.

“But strive for a local boy, honey. Someone more like us. Opposites might attract, but long-lasting couples have similar backgrounds and values. Perhaps that nice, young man who works at the bike shop. Nick, right?”

I groaned. If only I could tune her out. The car was too damn hot, and my shirt stuck to my damp back. I lowered my window.

“Close your window, we’re on the highway,” she exclaimed over the sudden roar.

“Then turn on the air conditioning,” I grumbled.

She clicked the dial, and the air conditioner cranked up, filling the car with a funny, stale odor. I waited until the smell dissipated before closing my window.

Mom’s hand patted mine. “I know you’re hurting, Bay, but better to find out now about Piran before things got serious.”

Right. Except things
were
already serious. At least to me. A lump in my throat, I slipped my hand out from beneath hers. She didn’t understand me. I sighed. Would she ever?

My cell phone vibrated for the fourth time, and I rolled over on my bed and picked it up. Not sure why I bothered, since I had no intention of answering it. I stared at Piran’s name on the screen, the characters blurring, before I tossed the phone down and flopped over on my back.

Faint moonlight spilled in through the crevices of my bamboo window shade, casting weird shadows around my dark bedroom. I threw my arm over my eyes and kicked off the sheet, wishing I could ramp up the ceiling fan to high without it roaring like a tornado.

Sleep was nothing but a far-off dream.

I rolled onto my side and clutched my pillow. My phone chimed, loud and perky, and I slapped the damn thing, before dragging it under my nose to read the text message.

“Please talk to me.”

Piran had never texted me before. I stared at the message, gripped by anguish or regret or anger. My damn emotions so mixed, I had no clue what I was feeling.

I tapped my phone’s keypad.
“Why?”

“I love you. Please answer.”

Answer what? Robins chirped outside my window. God, what time was it? Four thirty in the morning. Crap. Had I slept at all?

My phone vibrated. Oh, answer that. I tapped the Decline button. Damn, he was persistent. I closed my eyes. A sour taste wormed its way up from my gut to the back of my throat, making it hard to swallow. Ugh. I was too young for acid reflux.

The phone chimed with another text message, and I opened my eyes.

“I am dying inside.”

Good. That made two of us. I picked up my phone and texted him back.
“I need time.”

“No. Now. We must talk.”

He called again, and this time my finger hovered over the touchscreen. I tapped the Answer button. “So talk.”

“Bailey, I love you.” His words came out in a rush. “Please do not shut me out.”

Twisting my hair around my finger, I said nothing.

“Had you known I was a prince,” he continued, “you would not have given me a second look.”

“What?” I blurted, inadvertently yanking my hair so hard my eyes watered.

“The reason you are so mad at me is the very reason you are perfect for me. You are not swayed by money and fame. So many girls from my homeland threw themselves at me. They did not see
me
, they saw only a prince, a means to an end. Yet with you, I could be myself.”

“Oh, Piran,” I whispered.

“I do not wish to be a prince, Bailey. I do not wish to attend boring elaborate dinners with foreign dignitaries, or stand by my father’s side while he makes sweeping proclamations. I do not wish to inspect our Armed Guard, of which I know nothing, or officiate at the coronation of yet another lord. And I would rather sink to the bottom of our lake than study the documents of our province or serve on the Fae High Council.”

His sigh cut me to the core.

“I’m so sorry.” If only I had something more meaningful to say, but eloquence wasn’t exactly my forte. Grimacing, I rubbed the heel of my palm over my forehead. This whole experience had left me emotionally drained, tired, and with a headache.

Was he right though? Would I have avoided him had I known he was a prince?

A stab of guilt pierced my chest, and I took a deep, pained breath and closed my eyes. Yes, he was right. I would have
run
—not walked—as far as I could from him, assuming he’d be arrogant, shallow, greedy, and cold. A complete dick.

Everything he wasn’t.

“Bailey? Are you still there?”

I blinked. “Um, yeah, still here.”

“Good.” He paused. “I cannot wait to see you again.”

I could hear the grin in his voice. The happiness should have been mutual, except my mother’s words kept running through my head.
You’re not the kind of girl a prince would take . . .

My throat thickened. “Me too.”

Sunlight dappled across my bed, and my head drooped. “I need to get some sleep, Piran. I have to work later today.”

“Yes, sweet Bailey,” he said softly. “I will call you tonight.”

“Uh-huh,” I mumbled into the phone, cradling my pillow.

Woozy, twinkle, floating . . . blessed sleep.

A hysterical scream penetrated my consciousness, and then a thud. “Ouch! Why are your damn shoes in the way?”

Kelsi dropped onto my bed, nearly sending me over the other edge. “Oh my God! Mom just told me about Piran. I can’t believe it!”

“Go away. I need sleep.” I ducked under my pillow.

“Are you kidding me?” She tugged on my arm. “Get up. It’s nine already.”

“Please,” I groaned. “I didn’t get to sleep until like five.”

“Too bad. Anyway, don’t you have to work today?”

I whimpered. “In two hours.”

Kelsi laughed. “Come on. I’ll treat you to a latte.”

“Make it a white chocolate mocha with an extra shot. And a piece of coffeecake.”

“Fine. But you better spill
all
the details.”

I rolled out of bed, showered, and dressed in fifteen minutes.

“I’ll drive,” Kelsi declared after I made it downstairs. “You still look asleep.”

Once at the coffee shop, we ordered our drinks and sat down at one of the outdoor tables. My sister eagerly listened as I filled her in on what had happened at the gallery.

I took a sip of my latte and set it down. “And to top it off, Mom told me I’m not the kind of girl Piran would be serious with, you know. I’m not the kind of girl he’d marry.”

“Marry?” Kelsi repeated, wrinkling her nose. “Ugh. You’re only twenty-one.”

“Good point.” I wiped coffeecake crumbs off my fingers. “But I can’t seem to forget Nick telling me Fae guys just use girls for sex. Is that all I am to Piran? A plaything?”

“No, Bay.” Kelsi smirked. “You’re thinking about this the wrong way. You’re not his plaything. He’s
your
plaything.”

“Riiiight. Piran the Fae prince is my boy toy.” I snorted in laughter, then shook my head. “No, that’s not me. You know that.”

She shrugged.

“I see. Tolmin is your boy toy?” I teased.

My sister rolled her eyes, but her cheeks pinkened. “All I’m saying is that marriage is a long way off and there’s nothing wrong with having a fun boyfriend. Know what I mean?”

I drained the last of my mocha, the caffeine buzz clearing my head. “Yeah, but . . .”

“No buts. And no regrets. Have some fun, Bay.” She winked at a guy in a business suit, and the man stumbled into the railing.

“Sooo . . .” I needed to change the subject. “Mom said I should wear make-up, get my hair highlighted, and dress up once in a while. What do you think?”

Kelsi’s eyes lit up. “Do you want to go shopping when you get off work? We can go to American Apparel and find you some cute skirts. Oh, and Gigi’s too. Or we could go to the mall. I’m sure one of the salons will take you as a walk-in. How blonde do you want to go with the highlights?” She clapped her hands. “This will be so much fun!”

“Ah, Kelsi?”

Her face slowly crumpled. “You were just screwing with me, weren’t you?” She smacked her forehead with her palm. “Can you say gullible?”

I laughed.

“So what
are
your plans for after work?” she asked.

Piran flashed through my mind. His sexy smile and deep, reflective eyes. His hypnotic voice and playful laughter. I visualized his broad chest and chiseled abs before my gaze dipped lower, and I shuddered, thinking of him inside me.

Yet disapproving faces crowded him out—Mom, Nick, Coach Vinson, Piran’s father. Even his mother, with her cool air of detachment.

Could I settle for just a casual relationship? All the fun with none of the regrets?

Nope. That wasn’t me. And I did not intend to give my heart away only to have it shattered. Maybe that’s why I’d always shied away from relationships. Risks were for racing.

I stood, grabbed Kelsi’s car keys off the rickety metal table, and tossed them to her.

“My plans after work? I’m gonna ride my bike.”

BOOK: A Sprint To His Heart
4.38Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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