Cruel Prince(Royal Hearts Academy #1) - A. Jade Page 0,14
beating heart and bludgeoned it with a mallet.
I wipe my tears with the back of my hand. The only thing worse than having your heart smashed, was crying in front of the person responsible for it.
Pain swells in my chest, and I draw in a heavy breath. The way I see it, I only have two choices. One—I can shove my love down as far as it will go. Keep pretending I don’t feel anything for him.
But I’m done with playing pretend. And now that everything I’ve been holding inside has come to the surface…it’s a long way down.
So long, we’ll never be able to get back to the place we started.
Our friendship is doomed.
Which only left option number two. I need to find out why. Given Jace has clearly made his mind up about the possibility of us ever being more than what we are, I deserve to hear all the reasons we can’t be together.
“Why?” I whisper.
My heartstrings are no longer pulling…they’re hanging by a thread tethered to Jace Covington.
His throat bobs. “Because we’re friends.”
I hate the way he emphasized the word friends. In the blink of an eye, he managed to turn a positive into a negative.
Apparently, my heart isn’t a fan of his answer either because I have the urge to dig deeper.
“Would you rather date someone you didn’t get along with?”
He shakes his head.
I take a step toward him. “Do you like being with me?”
He nods. I take another step.
My pulse is beating so hard it echoes in my ears. “Are you happy when we hang out? Do I make your day a little better?”
“No.” My lungs freeze…until he peers down at me. “You make it a lot better.”
If that’s true…it could only mean one thing.
“Am I not pretty enough for you?”
I’m not gorgeous like Britney. Much like my height, my features are perfectly average. My nose is a standard size. My cheekbones aren’t carved from stone. My eyes are blue, but they aren’t piercing blue. A handful of freckles sprinkle the bridge of my nose and cheeks, but they’re inconspicuous things and only come out when I spend time in the sun.
Unfortunately, my most noticeable feature is the dimple in the middle of my chin.
The one that made Britney call me stupid names like butt-chin.
Even on rare occasions when I dabbled with makeup, I was never a drop-dead knockout.
My aunt once referred to our similar looks as girl next door cute. She claimed it was a good thing, but I disagree.
I’m a mediocre girl with small boobs and a skinny, almost curve-less frame.
Mediocre doesn’t equal sexy. It’s basic and boring.
Embarrassment twists my guts. “That’s it, isn’t it?”
Jace isn’t attracted to me. My ordinary looks are a deal-breaker for him.
The ass is more superficial than I thought.
Then again, his mother was a former Bollywood actress. I’d seen a few pictures of her…even before her death, she looked just like an angel.
Heck, Jace’s entire family—with the exception of poor Liam who had a few scars from the car accident that killed their mother— is flawless.
No wonder he doesn’t want someone like me. We’re not in the same league.
“That’s not it.” His voice is so low I can barely hear him.
I inch closer. “Then what’s wrong with me?”
I hate sounding so desperate, but I need my best friend to make me understand how it’s possible for me to feel so much for him…while he feels nothing for me.
The small space between us tightens as I place my hand on his chest. His heart is beating even faster than mine.
“Nothing.” A heavy breath lodges in my throat when his hand grazes my hip. “You’re perfect.”
Tension hangs in the heavy silence between us. It’s obvious Jace is fighting this, I just don’t know why.
Heat rises to my cheeks and my palms grow sweaty. It’s now or never at this point, and if I’m going down, I might as well go down swinging.
“I never gave you your dare.”
Jace and I have a stupid game we play. Every Friday before school ended, we exchange notes with dares on them that have to be completed by the end of the upcoming week.
Usually, they’re harmless and gross challenges. Things like eating an insect, or finishing an entire pizza pie and two glasses of milk in ninety minutes.
If you refuse, you have to clean the other’s room and answer a personal—usually embarrassing—question of the other’s choosing.
Lucky for us, we’re both competitive, so we rarely ever lose.