A GREAT START
982 Words
Melania:
“Rise and shine, sleepyheads.”
Beatrice’s voice cuts through my mind, forcing my eyes open. Horror floods me as the realization slams into me—I’m naked. At that exact moment, Royal stirs from sleep, his hand grazing the bare skin of my stomach. My breath hitches in my throat as I try to act neutral.
“I hope you both had a good night’s rest.” She winks from where she’s peeking through the door.
I grab Royal’s hand and shove it off me before jabbing my elbow into his side. His eyes flutter open, still drowned with sleep, but before he can speak, I cut him off.
“Yes, ma’am.”
Royal blinks at me, then turns to face his grandmother. He sits upright, stretching—and to my utter shock, throws an arm around my shoulders. A strange feeling rushes through me. Disgust? Fear? Guilt? Maybe all three.
“Privacy, please, Grandma,” he says, and Beatrice nods.
“Breakfast is ready, and I’m sure you both are hungry. Also, your brothers will leave soon.” She keeps her eyes on him before stepping back. “I’ll leave you two now.”
The second the door clicks shut, I yank the covers to my chest and swing my legs over the bed. I look the other way, terrifies to see him naked, because I know for a fact the sane version of me does not want to see that.
“We’re just going to pretend last night didn’t happen?” Royal’s voice is rough with sleep.
“Exactly.” I keep my gaze on the floor as I head toward the walk-in closet. “We were drunk, so it doesn’t count.”
“You can look. I’m not naked.”
I hesitate, then glance over my shoulder. Relief washes through me when I see he’s still under the sheets.
“Good.” I exhale, moving into the closet.
It’s massive—maybe even bigger than the bedroom. Rows of dresses and men’s clothes line the walls, ranging from corporate to casual. A wave of nostalgia hits me. This is similar to how my family's house looks. We have clothes prepared for guests. I guess being with Brady dulled my senses, making me forget who I am.
Instead of grabbing a robe, I reach for a casual, flared blue dress. Holding it against my body in the mirror, I decide it complements my skin tone perfectly. Without hesitation, I discard the blanket and slip into the dress before stepping back into the bedroom.
“I’m done.”
Royal gets up, heading toward the closet as I move to the dresser, spritzing on perfume. Beatrice wants us downstairs immediately, so there’s no time to shower.
He returns quickly, dressed in gray sweatpants and a fitted shirt that clings to his toned body. I catch myself staring longer than necessary.
I do not realize this until he clears his throat, causing me to look away with my cheeks burning.
“We should go.”
I nod hastily, standing and making my way toward the door. He follows closely, and I struggle to keep my thoughts in check as they keep drifting back to last night.
It’s been years since I’ve felt another man’s touch, and even though I was tipsy, some images refuse to leave. A part of me—one I don’t want to acknowledge—thinks it was nice, but I know that I cannot have him.
As we near the stairs, Royal slides his arm under mine, intertwining our fingers.
“I’m sorry we have to do this again,” he murmurs.
But it doesn’t feel like a burden. If anything, my body wants this moment to last a little longer.
A few seconds later, we step into the dining room, which has a huge golden chandelier hanging from the middle of the ceiling.
“Our favorite couple,” Roger announces in a jolly voice as Royal pulls out a chair for me. Once I’m seated, he places a soft kiss on my forehead before sitting beside me.
I wave shyly. “Good morning.”
“Good morning, brother,” Royal says in a neutral tone.
Roger smirks, licking the corner of his inner cheek. “I guess we’re still mad.” He picks up a bowl of cookies. “Cookies? Grandma made them last night.”
Royal grabs the bowl from him, picking out a few and placing them on my plate.Beatrice watches me with a smile as she waits for me to taste it. I take a bite, and the flavor melts on my tongue.
“Wow, these are so good.”
Her grin widens as she presses a hand to her chest. “I’m glad you like them.”
Royal reaches out, running a finger along my lips, wiping away a smudge of chocolate. Before I can react, he pops it into his mouth, tasting it.
Across the table, Sienna watches with her chin resting on her palm.
“Oh, I’d give anything to be newly married again,” she sighs. “The heart rush, the anticipation… all the lovey-dovey moments before he turns into the typical man.” She grins. “You’re so lucky.”
I don’t know what to say to that, so I just nod my head.
“So,” Chyna cuts in, “have you two picked a honeymoon location yet?”
“Greece.”
“South Africa.”
The words leave our mouths at the same time.
Silence falls over the table for a moment and the ladies chew slowly, glaring at each other. Roger freezes mid-bite as Beatrice raises an eyebrow while Rob eats uninterestedly.
I press my lips together, heat creeping up my neck as Royal leans back slowly.
“Well,” Roger chuckles, breaking the tension, “this marriage is off to a great start.”
- Writer
