by Leah Rooper
“What do you think?” Madison smiles at me from across the table.
“It’s not as good as Ma’s.”
“I knew you were going to say that.”
“It’s true!”
Madison laughs then reaches across the table, digging her fork into my plate. I jump back a little. “H-hey!”
“Oh, get over it.” She spins her fork, wrapping the noodle tightly around it. “You can share with your girlfriend.” Madison gives me an exaggerated wink.
I grumble but let her chew before asking, “I’m right, aren’t I?”
She contemplates. “Yeah, your mom’s is better.”
“Good answer.” Despite that, it doesn’t stop me from wolfing down the rest of my lunch.
“Can I tell you a secret?” Madison asks.
“Shoot.”
“I think you make even better spaghetti than your mom.”
I cover my mouth to keep from spitting out my noodles as I laugh. “Yeah, okay, Myong. Time to get your head checked.”
“Seriously, I mean it,” she urges. “Best spaghetti in the world.”
We’re interrupted when a couple asks if they can take a photo with me. I awkwardly get up and stand between them. People ask me for photos all the time in Chicago. But that’s because I’m a Falcon, number 77.
Here, I’m just me.
By the time we leave the restaurant, the streetlights blink to life. Their buttery golden light spreads across the purple dusk. The air is still warm, but the edge of night is creeping in. Figuring we’re doing this whole relationship act, I think it’s safe to throw an arm around Madison.
To my surprise, she leans into me.
Actually, she melts into me. Her arms wrap around my waist and her head rests against my chest.
“You’re so warm,” she murmurs, her eyes closed. “How are you so warm for someone who spends 99 percent of his time on the ice?”
I slowly rub my hands up and down her back, feeling the smoothness of her skin, the slick fabric of that damn flower-printed dress.
She gives a long sigh and starts to pull away, except I don’t let go. She looks up at me, her eyes wide, and I wonder what she’s going to say.
Except, she doesn’t say anything. Her lips part.
It’s like I’ve switched into auto-pilot. I glide my hand to the nape of her neck, and gently pull her toward me. I bend to meet her and hesitate just before our mouths touch.
She utters a sharp inhale, and then kisses me. Her hand glides up to scrunch the fabric at my shoulder. My other hand wraps tight around her back and as I straighten, I feel her feet lift slightly off the ground.
This is it. This is the moment I’ve been waiting for. Every day for two years, I’ve been trying to gather the courage to kiss her. But she kissed me. She kissed me!
My heart feels like it could explode from my chest with joy.
She collapses against me as I pull away. She looks up at me, and says, “There. That’s the smile we were looking for earlier, Daniel.”
Then I see the flash of a camera.
…
Madison
His smile sure is something. Warm like a summer’s day, familiar as a best friend, but wicked too. It falters a little bit as I say, “There. That’s the smile we were looking for earlier, Daniel.”
CLICK.
I had seen the flash even with my eyes closed when we had kissed.
It figures that Eldonia has paparazzi. They’re everywhere. Another flash goes off, and I look to see a man half-hiding behind one of the tomato carts.
“Oh. Photographers,” Daniel says, and his voice cracks slightly.
I don’t know why I did it. Why I kissed him. It’s just…I saw the photographer and I thought that it might be the only opportunity I’d ever have to kiss Daniel Sacachelli.
Our first kiss. I’ve thought about it every time he picks me up, every time we say goodbye…with every glance that seems just a bit too long.
And I just knew if I didn’t kiss him right then, with the photographer as an excuse, I’d never get a chance. Because although Daniel Sacachelli kisses a new girl every night, he’s never chosen to kiss me.
Tears well in my eyes because our first kiss will probably be the last. No…no, that can’t have been it! I didn’t even get to enjoy the feeling of having his arms wrapped around me, the caress of his lips over mine.
So I throw myself back onto the stage. “Come on,” I say. “Let’s get rid of that bad boy image, shall we?” I pull on his neck, guiding his mouth to mine. Just one more kiss. One more chance before it’s all gone.
But Daniel resists. I pull back and look up at him. He looks…angry. “I’m good,” he says.
I drop my hands and feel a hot wave of embarrassment rush through me. Daniel doesn’t even want to kiss me for the cameras, even when it’s just pretend. I know he only thinks of me as a friend but am I really so repulsive? My nose starts to run, and I try to wipe it as subtly as I can.
I can’t let Daniel see me cry, can’t let him know the real reason that I kissed him. Not for the cameras, not for this stupid girlfriend act. But because I’ve wanted to kiss him every day, and a small part of me somehow thought he might want to kiss me too.
I really am an idiot.
But the show must go on. I close my eyes and look up at him with a smile too big. “Ready, Hockey Prince? Let’s keep exploring.” Please don’t let him see the hurt on my face.
“I think I want to go home,” he says.
“Oh. Okay,” I say.
Daniel pulls out his phone and dials the carriage driver. I stand awkwardly, suddenly too keenly aware of where my arms and legs are. Every so often, I feel the flash of a camera on me.
We stand in silence, waiting for the carriage. I can’t even muster the courage to make small talk. My ego feels like it’s been run over by the entire royal cavalry.
As far as bad ideas go, kissing Daniel Sacachelli is up there with trying to convince my parents to send me to acting school and pretending to be a prince’s girlfriend. Each one has just made me feel more pathetic than the last.
I bite my lip and dig my nails into my palms. What does it even matter if Daniel wants me in the end? He’s a stinking prince. And if all goes according to plan, he’ll be a king. I, on the other hand, could be an actress.
I chance a look at him, seeing his downcast dark eyes, the sad scowl on his face. Somehow the thought of achieving my dream doesn’t bring me as much comfort as I thought it would.
Chapter Eleven
Daniel
I wipe my sweaty palms on my jeans and look over at Tremblay. “So, do we wait out here or go inside?”
We’re standing outside Oak’s Tavern, a large stone building on the south side of town. Orange light spills out from the door and I can hear music and cheerful voices.
“Don’t sweat it, man.” Tremblay slings an arm over my shoulder. “You sound like you’re about to go on a first date.”
I swallow. If this was a date, it would be easy. I’ve been on hundreds of dates before.
Instead, I feel like I’m going for drinks with the devil.
“Just a friendly post-game drink with some friends!” Arm still around my shoulder, Tremblay guides me toward the door. He stops just before we go in and looks me in the eye. “And remember, we’re just having Cokes tonight.”
“Yeah, I know.” My teammate is right. Even though drinking myself into a stupor is probably the easiest way to survive a night out with Lyle Worthington, I’ve got to be on my best behavior. Who knows what the rat has planned?
We walk through the entrance of the pub and I’m immediately smacked in the face by a wave of heat. This place is packed, with almost every seat and booth taken. There’s a roaring fire in a giant stone fireplace and long bar tables stretch the length of the pub. With the wood detailing, log benches, and stuffed deer heads on the wall, it looks more like a hunter’s cabin than a pub. But I guess that’s what you get in Eldonia, which is only a couple
hundred years behind the times.
The bar’s manned by a hulking guy in suspenders. Behind him, bottles of booze with peeling labels line the walls.
Tremblay and I walk toward the counter. “I don’t see Lyle yet,” he says.
I look around. The pub’s crowded, but I could spot Lyle’s fiery red hair anywhere. I’m sure he plans to keep me waiting.
“What’ll it be, boys?”
I turn to the bartender and he stops, studies me for a moment, then smiles broadly enough that I can see all his teeth—some silver and a couple of gold. “Prince Daniel! What a pleasure having you in my humble abode!”
Damn, does everyone in this town know who I am? “Thanks. It’s, uh, rustic.” I scan the bottles, trying to make out any of the labels. I’ve got to keep myself in line. “Just two Cokes, please.”
“Taking it easy night tonight, eh boys?” The giant bartender turns away, his big barrel belly shaking with laughter. When he returns, he’s got two short glasses filled with Coke.
“We’ve got lots of, uh, stuff to do tomorrow…” I stumble over my words.
“Kingly stuff!” Tremblay interrupts. “I mean, princely stuff.”
I’m tempted to smack my face with my palm. I could really use Madison’s quick wit and charming smile tonight.
The thought makes me want to snatch a bottle of rum from behind the counter and down the whole thing. Madison gave me the biggest reminder today that our fake relationship is the closest I’ll ever get to calling her my girlfriend. I couldn’t bear to kiss her a second time, knowing how much it meant to me, while to her, it was just a picture in a tabloid.
“No matter what you’re having, I will take fine care of you! I am Mr. Oak, the proprietor of this establishment.” The man pushes the glasses toward us. “You know, the royal Harwell family has been coming to this pub for over two hundred years! It’s been in the Oak family for generations…except for that thorny instance in 1875 when we briefly lost it to the Birches. Your father even called us a national treasure.”
I look around at the cobwebs in the rafters and the rickety log benches and think that Eldonia’s national treasure is in desperate need of an upgrade. There’s no way this place is up to code.
“In fact,” Mr. Oak continues, “I served your sister her very first drink on her sixteenth birthday. Your father, too.”
That’s right, the legal drinking age in Eldonia is sixteen. And I can’t even enjoy it.
“And to think,” the man says loudly, gesturing to the whole pub, “we’ve got Prince Daniel joining us tonight!”
Everyone in the bar turns to look at me.
The Bastard Prince.
But as I stare back at them, I’m not seeing the looks I remember. I don’t see scorn or hatred. And when I think about my trip into town with Madison earlier today…from the tomato seller, to the server at the restaurant, to all the people coming up to me, asking for pictures… Everyone was surprisingly nice.
This is the first time I’ve been back in Eldonia since my three-day whirlwind trip for Dad’s funeral. Everyone must have heard the rumors, must be wondering who will be the next king. And maybe they actually prefer me to Lyle Worthington.
“Already commanding attention.” A long voice drawls from the entrance of the pub. “It seems my betrothed really has been teaching you a thing or two, old sport.”
I turn to see Lyle in the entranceway, Laughy and Alderson standing behind him.
Lyle saunters into the pub and thankfully everyone goes back to pretending to be interested in their drinks. But I know their attention is still on me.
Tremblay tries to pay for our drinks, but Mr. Oak insists our drinks are on the house. We grab the cups. “Let’s sit down.”
The five of us find a couple of seats that surround a low table by the fire. Tremblay and I sit in a well-worn brown sofa, while Lyle and his goons take a seat across from us. A waitress in a short plaid skirt walks over. “What can I get you, gentlemen?”
“What are you drinking?” Lyle flicks a finger toward my glass.
“Just Cokes for us tonight,” Tremblay answers for me.
“Hmm.” Lyle makes a small sound in the back of his throat. “I’ll have three pints of Brewsters Pale Ale. It’s on the prince’s tab.” He sneers at me. “Surely you can handle something a little stronger?”
“We’ll be good with these,” I say, and when Lyle’s face twitches, I add, “We have to be up early.”
It’s not a lie. I’m sure Eva’s got plenty of training planned to bore me with tomorrow.
“Fine, fine,” Lyle says, turning back to the waitress. “And we’ll have the Eldonian Special delivered in a little while. Thanks, dearie.”
The waitress nods and leaves the table. I have no idea what the Eldonian Special is, and while it may have intrigued me at another time, Tremblay’s right. We’ve got to keep it under control tonight. I’m here to improve my image, not make it any worse.
Keeping up a conversation with Lyle isn’t actually as hard as I thought it would be. All I have to do is ask one small question about his life, and he’ll go on and on…and on and on. I feel my eyes getting glassy, and I swallow the rest of my Coke, just to keep myself awake. If I stare at Lyle’s face long enough, I can see flecks of powder on his nose from where he’s tried to cover the bruise I gave him on the ice this morning.
The pub door shoots open, and the candles on the table flicker. Everyone who was pretending not to look at me (but really was) turns to the door. In walk four drop-dead gorgeous girls.
They’re stunning. Their matching short dresses show off every inch of their mile-long legs. “Oh man,” I whisper to Tremblay. “Look at who just walked in.”
Tremblay, who seems more interested in his conversation with Laughy on how frozen a lake has to be to safely skate on it, finally turns to the door. He looks back at me with a bored expression.
I never thought I’d see the day when Captain Tremblay was so enthralled with a tall, scruffy-haired, bossy girl that seeing four incredibly sexy women has no effect on him, whatsoever.
But as I look at them, instead of excitement, I feel a sinking sensation in my gut. None of these girls are the one I want to see. A couple weeks ago, I might have relished the distraction of talking to girls like them. But now, after spending so much time with Madison, I know what it would be like to be with her. Really with her.
Which only makes our pretend situation worse.
I look across the table and notice Lyle’s gone over to stand by the girls.
They flock around him, touching his arm, laughing and pulling out their phones for selfies.
“Boys, my lovely friends have arrived,” Lyle says, guiding them over. “This is Paige, Idina, Krista, and Halle.”
Tremblay waves a friendly hello, and so do I. This is so weird. Why would Lyle introduce me to his gorgeous friends?
“Girls,” Lyle says, “this is Prince Daniel and—” He swats a hand toward Tremblay. “—company.”
They start giggling, their lilting murmurs barely audible: “Oh, Prince Daniel.”
“Make room, Your Highness,” Lyle clucks. “We’re not going to make the poor ladies stand, are we?”
Is Lyle being…semi-nice to me? Using my royal title, getting the pretty girls to sit beside me. Maybe he feels bad about being such a dick to me for the past seventeen years. Maybe he knows he’ll never be king and wants to suck up.
But then it dawns on me. It’s a trap. Lyle brought me to a bar, is trying to get me to drink, and is now surrounding me with gorgeous girls…
It’s so obvious. He wants to get me drunk so I’ll hook up with one of these random girls and ruin my reputation further.
Does he think I’m an idiot?
I lean back in the couch and grin. Not today, Lyle.
With Lyle’s couch taken over by him and his goons, Krista plops down in his lap and strings her arms around his shoulders. I guess that means the rest of the girls are going to have to squeeze on this couch w
ith Tremblay and me. I move over so I’m tight against Tremblay and he’s pushed all the way against the side of the couch. Normally, I’d be sprawled out, arms open for these girls, pulling them beside me. But I feel stiff and awkward.
Idina, Halle, and Paige crowd into the space beside us. It’s a tight fit and Idina is pressed right up against me. Her bare legs touch mine.
“Tell me if this is too squishy, Prince Daniel,” she says, running a hand through her long platinum blond hair. Her accent is musical and friendly.
Normally this would drive me wild, but to my own surprise, I’m not even tempted by her. Instead, I keep thinking of Madison’s shiny black hair, her cheeky smiles, the way she narrows her eyes at me when I do something dumb.
“Idina’s visiting from Norway.” Lyle lazily plays with one of Krista’s strawberry blond braids. “Maybe you could be a good host and show the girls around your kingdom tomorrow?”
Idina leans in closer to me and puts her lips by my ear. “Or you could show me around…tonight.”
I must be sitting too close to the fire, because I’m burning up. What is even happening? I shake my head to see if I’m dreaming. A girl has never just come out and said something like that to me before. She doesn’t even know me.
Well, she knows one thing about me. And I guess that’s the only thing that matters.
Maybe that’s why, as much as Lyle thinks this is a temptation, it’s really not. Why I never tried to play the prince card back in Chicago. Because once people find out you’re royalty, that’s all you are. All they care about.
It even turned Madison. She liked me before she knew I was a prince, yeah. But she never wanted me as her boyfriend.
“I’ve got a meeting in the morning,” I say to Idina. “And in the afternoon, I have plans with my girlfriend. But I’m sure I can find someone in the castle to escort you.”
Tremblay gives me a smile—approval from the cap.
“You have a girlfriend?” Halle pouts.
“Yeah.” I close my eyes. Even though I’m hurt about this afternoon, I can’t think of Madison without my heart quickening. I feel compelled to tell these strangers all about her, how she loves old Hollywood movies but still goes to see blockbusters at the theater every Tuesday. And how even though she’s teeny-tiny, she can still eat an entire pot of my spaghetti. But instead I just say, “She’s amazing.”