Royally Unexpected: An Accidental Pregnancy Collection Read online

  I feel like I’m going to throw up.

  Coach Bernard puts a hand on my shoulder. “Take tomorrow and the rest of the weekend off, Elle. Come back fresh on Monday.”

  “Really?”

  “Maybe I’ve been pushing you too hard. You look like you need some sleep. At this point, it’s better for you to be rested than it is to kill you with extra training sessions.”

  His eyes soften and he squeezes my shoulder. Gratitude floods my chest and I breathe a sigh of relief. “Thanks, Coach.”

  It’s Thursday, which means I get three whole days off. Three days! I haven’t had three days off in months. I go home and collapse onto the couch, exhausted. Dahlia walks into the living room soon afterwards, clutching a hot water bottle to her stomach.

  “Have I mentioned how much I hate my period?” She flops down beside me with a groan.

  I stiffen.

  She notices.

  “Dahlia,” I say, my voice barely above a whisper. Terror ices my veins. “I think it might be time to take that pregnancy test.”

  25

  Charlie

  The dinner party goes well, all things considered. Damon and Dahlia do a remarkably good job of pretending to be into each other.

  My father throws me a couple suspicious looks throughout the meal, but he seems to take the bait. He’s not overly pleased that Damon is supposedly interested in a Raventhal, but at least he isn’t the heir to the throne. He doesn’t need to choose the perfect wife for himself and the Kingdom.

  No, that responsibility falls squarely on my shoulders.

  After dinner, I follow my father out of the dining room.

  “Happy?”

  He arches a wiry eyebrow at me and grunts. “No, but at least she won’t be Queen.”

  “She seems all right to me.”

  “Have you forgotten our history with the Raventhals?” He spits the words at me, as if the accusations about my mother’s death were my fault. “Tabitha Raventhal brought shame on this family, and now I’m supposed to entertain her daughter as if nothing happened.”

  Anger flares through me, and I take a deep breath to push it down. Now is not the time. We just had an almost civil dinner together, and I don’t want to sour it ten minutes after it’s over.

  “Father, things have changed. Who cares about that? It’s in the past.”

  “Well, it may be in the past but I’m still glad she’s not going to be your wife.”

  “Who cares who I marry? Why does this matter so much to you?”

  “I care,” he says, squaring his shoulder as he turns toward me. “Who you marry will claim the throne with you and will carry the heir to the throne of Farcliff. How do you not realize the importance of that?”

  “Yeah, but it’s a largely meaningless title,” I scoff. “We have a cabinet, and ministers, and an entire government. You don’t need me as some chattel to sell off to whichever Lord wants to do a deal. Is this why you’ve been pushing me toward Olivia Brundle? For that stupid dam project?”

  “You’re too naive, son.”

  “I’m not naïve. I’m living in the twenty-first century. Unlike you.”

  “When will you understand the responsibility on your shoulders? I blame your mother for this. She spoiled you with ideas of independence. She didn’t understand the magnitude of her position, either.”

  “Don’t speak about my mother like that.” My voice darkens and I take a step closer to him.

  My father snarls. “She was a fool, and she died because of it.”

  “Don’t you fucking say another word.” I take another step and my hands ball into fists. My father stares me down as the air between us thickens. A bead of sweat trickles between my shoulder blades as my heart pumps hot, angry blood through my constricting veins.

  My mother’s death was the most devastating moment of my childhood, and I always thought the King blamed me for it—but now, when he looks at me like this, I’m not so sure. He seems almost glad she’s gone.

  “It’s just a shame that she didn’t take you with her,” my father says in a low voice. “Damon would make a much better King.”

  His words sting, hitting me like a slap in the face. I watch him walk down the hallway and I stay rooted in place.

  When I see Elle the following day, she seems distant. We drive to the cabin—our second home together—and she stands near the windows staring out.

  I point to the outlet of the lake on the near shoreline. “There’s a proposal to build a hydroelectric dam right there. It would provide power for all of Farcliff, but we would need to relocate everyone in Grimdale.”

  “What? That’s crazy! Are they allowed to do that?”

  “Not technically, no. My mother fought the project when she was alive and it was denied by the planning commission. That was fifteen years ago, though, and I’ve seen paperwork for it in the King’s office.”

  “She always did seem to care about Grimdale more than most royals.”

  I smile, remembering how my mother would take me down to see Bo at the boxing gym, or to volunteer at different charities. “She was special.”

  “What’s going to happen with the dam?”

  “I’m not sure. My father won’t be able to push it through without government approval. I haven’t seen anything official about it. I don’t know if him pushing my marriage is related at all. I just… I have a bad feeling about it.”

  Elle sighs softly and her eyes grow distant.

  “You okay?” I wrap my arms around her waist from behind, resting my cheek against hers.

  Elle reaches back and leans into me. “Yeah,” she says. “Just tired. Coach gave me three days off. I’m not training until Monday.”

  I spin her around and pull her close. “For real? Three days with nothing to do? Does that mean we’ll actually spend the night together?”

  Her smile seems forced, but she hooks her arms around my neck and gives me a kiss. “Yeah, we will.”

  That evening, Elle falls asleep on the sofa, snoring softly and twitching. I’m happy to see it—I know she’s been having trouble sleeping. I pull a blanket over her and kiss her forehead.

  I make dinner for the two of us and bring a bottle of wine up from the cellar. I make some more guacamole.

  But when Elle wakes up from her nap, she shakes her head at the wine. “I’m good, thanks.”

  “But you don’t have to train tomorrow,” I say, pushing the glass closer to her. “Surely you can let loose a little. One glass of wine won’t hurt.”

  “I just feel a bit sick,” Elle says with a tight smile. “Can’t stomach it right now.”

  “All right.”

  She avoids my eye, and I notice she doesn’t touch the guacamole. She doesn’t even look at it, as if the sight of it makes her ill. Nothing like our first night at the cabin together, when she couldn’t get enough of it.

  Couldn’t get enough of me.

  Tonight, something is different, and I don’t like it.

  “Is everything okay, Elle?”

  She nods, still not looking at me. “Yeah. I think I just need to lie down. I’m sorry, I wish I was a bit more fun.”

  I bring her to the bedroom and tuck her in, kissing her forehead. She closes her eyes and turns away from me without another word.

  She’s just sick or worn out from her intense training. I don’t know how she juggles rowing and school on top of seeing me.

  There’s nothing to worry about. It has nothing to do with me.

  That’s what I keep telling myself, but I can’t help feeling like there’s something else going on. Ever since I told her about the dinner party with Dahlia, it almost feels like she’s been pulling away from me.

  I check on her after an hour or so, and she’s fast asleep. Wandering around the lodge is giving me cabin fever, so I jump on my bike outside and take off. It’s Thursday evening, which means Bo will have some amateur fights going on at the gym.

  I have no desire to go out partying, but I’d like to go s
omewhere comfortable, familiar, and safe. I miss Bo.

  Making my way to the edge of Grimdale, I park my bike a couple of blocks away and walk through the back door of the boxing gym. I can hear the sounds of the fights and a small crowd cheering, and I poke my head around the corner. I take a deep breath, inhaling the familiar smell of the gym equipment and stale sweat.

  I’ve missed it. As much as I haven’t needed this particular release for my aggression—I don’t have much unreleased aggression anymore—it almost feels like coming home.

  “You’re not supposed to be here,” Bo says, appearing behind me.

  I turn to him and grin. “Couldn’t stay away.”

  He nods to one of the kids in the ring. “That’s Malik Jones. He’s good. Just came in a few weeks ago. Good footwork.”

  “Fast hands. If he sticks to training, he could be really good.”

  Bo grunts in agreement and glances at me. “You been keeping out of trouble?”

  “Surprisingly, yes,” I grin. “Never thought I’d say that and not be lying.”

  “Who is she?”

  “What?”

  Bo chuckles and I frown. How could he know about Elle?

  The old man nods to his office. “I always said that the only way you’d get rid of that anger in your heart was through the love of a good woman. Come on, I want to give you something.”

  I follow him to the cramped room, with stacks of yellowing papers and old, broken gym equipment leaning against the walls. Bo’s faded leather chair creaks as he sits down, and he pulls out a set of keys that jangle as he finds the right one. Bo unlocks the bottom drawer of his desk and takes out a small, black velvet box.

  He pushes it toward me. “Your mother gave me this, back when she brought you in here the first time. She said to give it to you when you were ready. It took a little longer than I thought, but you’re ready now.”

  “My mother?”

  “Uh huh.” Bo gets a faraway look and gestures for me to open the box.

  I flip it open and see my mother’s favorite ring. My eyes widen. “She gave you this?”

  Bo chuckles. “She did. It was a few months before…” he trains off, and I know he means before she died. “She was a firecracker when she was your age. Good boxer.”

  “My mother boxed? How have I never heard this before?”

  “Why do you think she brought you here?” Bo grins. His eyes get misty as he leans back in his chair. “Incredible woman. She gave that to me for safekeeping. Said it might get lost up at the castle. Told me to give it to you when you had found a woman who tamed your wild side. All I can say is—I hope I get to meet her.”

  Bo smiles at me, and emotion chokes my throat. I don’t know what to say. I look at the ring, and I remember my mother fiddling with it when she was nervous and staring at it when she was lost in thought. It was my mother’s mother’s ring—and her grandmother before that—a delicate, white gold band with a round emerald stone that reminded me of her eyes. Small diamonds sparkle all around it. I take the ring between my fingers and wipe a tear before it can fall to my cheek.

  “I can’t believe you knew her that well.”

  “I did.” Bo smiles sadly, and I wonder what really happened between them. He reaches over and squeezes my hand. “She knew you’d be a great King. She used to tell me that you were born to rule, and I think she was right.”

  If I look at him any longer, I’m going to start crying in earnest. Instead, I put the ring back in the box and slip it into my breast pocket.

  “I don’t know about that.”

  “You will,” Bo nods. He leans back in his chair and folds his arms over his stomach. “You’re a born leader. You just need someone to smooth out the rough edges.”

  I smile, touching the box against my chest. Elle smooths out my rough edges. She does more than that. She makes me whole, and I already know that she’s the only woman who will ever wear my mother’s ring.

  26

  Elle

  I’m pregnant.

  Ever since those blue lines appeared on the pregnancy test, my mind has been spiraling out of control. I can’t even look Charlie in the eye.

  Pregnant.

  There’s a baby growing inside me. I can’t wrap my mind around it. An actual, tiny human is being formed at this moment. In my uterus.

  When I hear the door close and Charlie’s motorcycle drive away, I let out a sigh and roll onto my back. I stare at the ceiling as tears start to fall from my eyes.

  This is a monumental disaster.

  What was I thinking, not getting the morning after pill? We’ve used protection since then, but that first night…

  I squeeze my eyes shut as a lump grows in my throat. My phone dings. It’s Charlie, saying he’s going to the boxing gym and he’ll be back in an hour.

  He’s been so considerate lately. Even tonight, he cooked for me and tucked me in. He’s so… loving.

  And I’m carrying his child.

  I want to tell Charlie, but every time he looks at me, the words just won’t come out. If I tell him, it’ll change everything. What if he freaks out? What if he’s angry?

  What if he wants me to get rid of it? What if he doesn’t want to see me anymore?

  The thought makes my chest pinch painfully around my heart.

  I don’t want to lose the Prince.

  But I won’t give up my baby. I won’t. There’s no way. I can’t have a child go through what I went through, living their entire life wondering who their parents are and why they weren’t wanted.

  No, this child might not have been expected, but it will be wanted. It will be loved, whether or not the Prince wants it, too.

  But the thought of telling him, of seeing his reaction… of losing him…

  I can’t bear it. I curl up into a ball and cry.

  Panic starts to snake inside me, needling at all my fears and insecurities. It’s all well and good saying that I’ll take care of the baby—but how?

  I’ll lose my scholarship, because I won’t be able to compete next year. I won’t graduate, which means I can’t get a good job.

  I’ll be a terrible mother. What do I know about being a parent?

  How will I provide for the baby? How will I survive?

  Squeezing my eyes shut, I twist the blankets in my hands and take a deep breath. It calms me down enough to stay my spiraling thoughts.

  My life is royally fucked, which is ironic, considering I’ve been royally fucked every night for the past two months. My heart starts palpitating and I take a deep breath. I swing my legs over the edge of the bed and stand up, putting a hand to my stomach. Padding to the kitchen, I take one look at the bowl of guacamole and run straight to the bathroom to throw up.

  Turns out morning sickness doesn’t only happen in the morning.

  I cough and sputter as my stomach heaves again, and then I cry into the toilet bowl for a long time.

  Picking myself up off the bathroom floor, I brush my teeth and gargle some mouthwash before heading back to bed. I fall into a hazy sort of sleep until Charlie slips in under the covers beside me.

  “Hey,” I mumble sleepily. “How was the boxing gym?”

  “It was great,” he says, opening the bedside table drawer, putting something in, and closing it again. “Went to see Bo.”

  “I thought he’d get shut down if you were seen there.”

  “He could, but I wasn’t there very long. It was good to see him. He’s like a father to me.”

  Charlie wraps his arms around me and pulls me in against his chest. He smells like fresh air and his usual cologne, and I sigh into his skin.

  I wish it didn’t feel this good to be with him. It would be a hell of a lot easier if he wasn’t so perfect.

  “How are you feeling?” He strokes my hair and kisses my forehead, and my heart squeezes.

  The words won’t come. I don’t know how to say it.

  I mean, I know how to say it. I could just blurt out ‘I’m pregnant’—but my brain see
ms to be blocking me from doing that.

  Instead, I just sigh. “I feel better now that you’re here.”

  “You still feeling sick? I’ll take care of you.” He holds me close. Charlie’s so tender and loving, and it breaks my heart. It’s only a matter of time before I lose him.

  Because at the end of the day, I know I’ll lose him. I’ve always known, deep down, that this was never going to work. I held out some sort of hope that we’d be able to take our relationship public, but after the dinner party with Dahlia, those hopes started to fade.

  Now that I’m pregnant, I know it’s over. For the Crown Prince to have an illegitimate child with a girl from Grimdale…

  …that’s an even bigger scandal than the Crown Prince hooking up with his governess when he was fifteen. I can’t do that to him.

  I can’t do that to myself, or to my baby. I don’t want my kid growing up in the horrible spotlight of scandal, not being given a chance at a decent life.

  It has to end between the Prince and me.

  But not tonight. Not this weekend. I’ll spend these last three days with him, and I’ll love him with my entire heart. I’ll make love to him, kiss him and hold him and drink everything in… and then I’ll say goodbye. I’ll finish this year at college and figure something out for next year.

  I won’t drag him down with me, and I won’t hurt my baby.

  In that moment, with Prince Charlie’s arms wrapped around me, as his breath quiets down and I know he’s fallen asleep, I realize that I love him.

  God, how I love him.

  I love him harder than I’ve ever loved a man before. He has my heart, my soul, my everything. I curl my fingers into Charlie’s chest and kiss his skin. It’s stubbly now. He’s let his chest hair grow—just like he said he would.

  For me.

  It’s precisely because I love him that I know I can’t tell him about the baby. It’s because I love him that I need to let him go. This baby will be life-changing for me, but it would be an epic, Kingdom-shattering scandal for him.

  And that’s not fair for Charlie, or me, or the baby.