Chapter 17

17

ISAAC

As soon as we reach the spot I was at when I yelled at Adrian not even a half-hour ago, I whirl on Zye and poke him in the chest. "I'm excited about something for the first time in a long damn time, Zye, and you do not get to take this away from me."

He backs up, his hand going to his neck as hurt flashes in his eyes. "I'm not. I want you to be happy."

Mrs. Weppler, the town librarian, glares at me as she walks around us with a tutting sound. I nod to her and wait until she's reached the restroom before turning back to my friend. "It doesn't feel like it."

He straightens, pushing his shoulders back and his chin up. Zye reminds me of an exotic bird. Graceful. Colorful. But if you rile his feathers, you better watch out. His hands go to his hips, and I back up before I realize it. "How many times have I gotten this talk from you? Don't mess up your life, Zye. Don't sleep with the dude of honor, Zye. Don't ignore Ms. Garrett because she makes your eye twitch and just do your damn job, Zye." His voice goes up on each point, and I look past him to ensure no one's around.

"Mrs. Weppler is going to throw us out of the diner if you don't keep your voice down." I give him an apologetic smile. I hate fighting with Zye. "But I get your point."

"Do you?" His voice is softer, but his gaze is still just as fierce. "I'm impulsive. I crave excitement. You like spreadsheets and planning and stability. This isn't like you, Isaac. You're the cautious one."

His eyes are full of concern. Not judgment, which would be easy to counter. He's worried about me. And as my best friend, he's earned that right. But I study the floor because it's too much, and I really don't want to break down in Christy's hallway during the after-church rush.

"What if I'm tired of being the cautious one? I mean, it's not really worked out for me in the past. Jane and I dated for years. I planned out my—our—entire life. And in the end, it didn't matter."

"You have a point." He sniffs. The thing with Jane has been hard on everyone. His eye makeup is smeared in places. It's been an emotional few days.

I catch his eyes. "I'm tired of planning everything, Zye."

His lips twitch. "Really?"

I laugh, and some of the tension eases. "Okay, no. But I'm tired of trying to control every detail of my life."

The restroom door opens, and Mrs. Weppler shakes her head as she walks by.

"We're not in the library, you know. We can be as loud as we want." I'm yelling at her retreating back, and I slap a hand over my mouth.

"I can't say I hate this new Isaac."

"I'm still getting used to it." I take his hand and squeeze. "Adrian makes me happy."

"What about Simon?"

"He makes Simon happy too."

He takes a deep breath and blows it out. "I don't want you to get hurt."

"Everything is fine. There's nothing to worry about."

"Okay. You've got this. Just…you're riding this high, and I get it. I was there not that long ago. It feels like you've known him forever."

Where is he going with this? "Your point?"

He grins. "My point, sweetie." He taps my cheek. "Is that you've known this amazing prince who's changed your life for a week."

"It's been more than a week." But he's already walking away. It has been longer than a week. I add up the days in my head as I return to our table. It's been…oh God. Eight days.

After Zye and Miles leave, we're finally alone. Adrian takes my hand and kisses my fingers. "Are you all right?"

"I'm good." And I am. Zye made some very good points, but I've done the cautious thing. I want this. I choose to be happy.

"Thank you for last night. Dinner." His eyes darken. "Everything."

Lanie's cough warns us as she escorts an older couple in. They're wearing matching leather jackets and boots, and they sit in the corner, more interested in each other than anyone else. "I'm sorry," she says, stopping by our table and glancing at our entwined hands. I pull on my hand, but Adrian doesn't let go. "It's getting plumb full out there, and Da said we can't hold spots for…anyone." Her hesitation has me wondering if that was all he said.

She blushes, but I'm glad she's now talking around Adrian.

"It's fine, Lanie. Thank you," Adrian says, catching her gaze.

She squeaks, and her blush deepens. But then she raises her chin. "Do you need anything else?" We shake our heads, and she's off again.

"When do you have to leave?" I ask, leaning in so we won't be overheard by the couple. Being closer to Adrian is just a bonus.

"Tomorrow at the latest." He glances over at the oblivious couple and brushes his lips against mine. "I've been wanting to kiss you all day. This is torture."

I laugh, but it sounds more like a giggle. "It's barely past noon. Dramatic much."

"Yes. You, Isaac—what's your middle name?"

"Spencer."

"Isaac Spencer Brandt, you have bewitched me."

"This is crazy, right? Running off to Europe to hang out with a prince?"

The clunk of dishes and the murmur of voices mix together. "Order up," Ramon yells from the kitchen. But none of that matters. Adrian and I stare into each other's eyes, alone in our little world. Where it doesn't matter if you're a prince or an accountant.

"I wish I could see you tonight—spend time with you. But the plane leaves early in the morning." Adrian says, and his words seem to have hidden meaning. He wants another night like last night, and I want that too. Exploring each other's bodies. Finding out what he likes. Waking up next to him. But he needs to get back. He has obligations to his family. His country.

I love that he takes his responsibilities seriously. But I want to hold on to this moment. What if Reginald can't work it out so we can go? Will Adrian come back? "Then we should make the most of the time we do have. In case—" I stop, not wanting to focus on any of that.

"No matter what, I'll return. I have your number now, remember? You can't get rid of me that easily." He crushes our mouths together and nothing else matters.

A squeak has me pulling away.

Lanie stares at us with wide eyes.

"Christ almighty. Get a damn room." Christy stomps past us and starts clearing the table.

Then Adrian's phone beeps. "A text. Reggie." As he reads it, a grin spreads over his face. "The man is a genius. We're set. We leave tomorrow morning for Lutiana."

Less than twenty-four hours later, we are at the airport, staring at the royal plane. Simon was grumpy, his eyes barely open, when they picked us up way too early in the morning. But now he's wide awake with his mouth hanging open.

It hits me then. This is a real plane. We are going to a real palace with an actual prince. A man I've known for barely a week. I should be more worried. This isn't me. Zye was right about that. But my body thrums with excitement. We're going to another country. Across an ocean. With Adrian.

"You own an airplane?" Simon asks for the hundredth time once we're onboard. "This is the best day ever."

Reginald hides his grin behind a sip of tea.

"It belongs to my family, not me. But yes."

He races from one side to the other, looking out each window as if he expects the view to change.

"Simon, pick a seat, bud, and stay there."

"Can I sit by Reggie?"

I check with Adrian first, and he nods. Simon tries to run past me, but I grab him around the waist and pull him toward me. "Only if it's okay with Reggie…I mean Reginald." I keep my voice low. "Ask first. Politely." Simon nods eagerly like one of my Star Trek bobbleheads. I let go, and he's off, rushing over to Reginald.

"Daddy says I can sit with you?—"

"Oh my God," I mutter. Adrian takes my hand and squeezes.

"—but only if you say yes. Please?"

Even though I can't see his face, I have no doubt he's using his puppy-dog eyes.

Reginald gives us a look like this was all our idea. But then he settles Simon beside him and answers his billions of questions. He scowls a lot, but I think he secretly likes spending time with Simon.

"It's been a busy few days," Adrian says when we're alone. As alone as you can be on a private plane with staff, a man you want to kiss, and an overeager five-year-old. "How are you doing?"

"Stunned. Like someone used a Phaser on me."

"It took me an embarrassingly long time to realize you were a Trekkie."

I shrug. "I hide it well. We're taking over the world. One small country at a time." We're facing each other, and I can almost count his long lashes. The man is seriously hot.

"I should sound the alarm, but you're very cute."

I lean closer and whisper in his ear, "I'm also good at distraction."

"You certainly are." He traces the curve of my cheek with his fingers, and I need more of that. I want him touching me everywhere. "Is Simon watching?" he asks.

I glance over at Simon and Reginald. "Nope. They're in a deep discussion about the cars on the ground and how big they actually are."

"Who's winning?"

"We are." I capture his lips, trying to keep it light and sweet. That's not easy when I want to climb in his lap and do so much more to him. Experience every one of his firsts. I suck his bottom lip in my mouth, and he groans.

"Isaac, sweetheart."

"Hm?" I nip at his perfect chin. His strong jaw. The curve of his neck. We're faced away from the others, and I'm using that to my advantage. Hopefully, Reginald will keep Simon busy because, right now, this is exactly what I need.

"Isaac," he says again, gently pulling away. "It's a very long flight. There's distraction. And then there's torture."