10. Maddison

Maddison

R iver and I leave the lake and drive back to the city. We park his car in the same carport Finn used when he helped me escape Drew. Then River and I head out to the front entrance where an Uber will pick us up.

River has us go through the bottom floor of the building instead of going around outside, which means we have to walk through the main lobby where people are. I immediately grow anxious at the sight of the domed cathedral ceiling, the sparkling chandelier, the shiny marble floor, and the gold splashes everywhere, including on peoples’ jewelry.

Everyone is glitzy with royalty, and I feel like trash. I’m unsure if I’m being self-conscious, but I swear a group of women sitting on sofas near the windows at the front are staring at me. They’re drinking tea, and it looks like they might be having a book club meeting since they’re all holding a book.

“Are you okay?” River asks as we cross the room, passing by the front desk.

A few people are standing behind it, dressed in suit-like uniforms. This place makes me think of a five-star hotel, but I can’t even confirm if it’s like one since I’ve never stepped foot in that type of place.

I wrap my arms around myself. “I’m fine.” My gaze sweeps the area, and I’m certain one of the female receptionists is glaring at me. “But I do feel out of place here.”

“You shouldn’t feel that way. You belong here as much as anyone else does,” he attempts to reassure me as he places a palm on the small of my back and inches closer to me.

I’m unsure why he does it—if it’s an instinctive move or intentional. Normally, I’d move away from him—I’m not some girl who needs protecting. But this place is making me all twitchy. It’s too polished, too shiny. Too fake.

By the time we exit through the doors and step into the cool night air, I appreciate the non-stuffy oxygen that enters my lungs.

River’s gaze flits to mine, question marks reflecting in his eyes.

“I’m good,” I assure him after I’ve taken another deep breath of wonderful stuffy-free air. “I think I was just holding my breath while we were in there.”

The edges of his lips tug downward. “You don’t have to feel uncomfortable around royals. They’re not better than you.”

“Oh, I know that.” I watch the cars on the street whizz by. “But they think they are, and that attitude can be a lot sometimes.” I glance at him from the corner of my eye.

His lips thin as he presses them together. “It can be a lot, even when you’re a royal,” he divulges. “I hate it, too—always being under the spotlight. Like that night I got arrested, paparazzi were waiting for Finn and me outside the jail.”

My lips part in shock. “What? Why?”

He stiffly shrugs while scuffing the tip of his boot against the cement. “It’s big news when the sons of one of the most wealthy and famous families in the city get arrested on northside.”

“Jesus,” I mumble. “So, your parents found out then?”

He nods, exhaling loudly. “Finn and I were in deep shit. Finn got his credit card taken away for a couple of weeks, though my father doesn’t realize he has cash stashed, so it didn’t amount to much. Plus, Finn doesn’t react to getting a lecture. He doesn’t give a shit about my father’s opinion.” He stuffs his hands into his pockets.

“What about you?”

“I wish I didn’t.”

“But you do.”

“Sometimes.” The muscle in his jaw ticks. “It’s been bred into me since I was born.”

I face him. “Well, always being poor and at the bottom has been bred into me since the day I was born, and look where I am now. At the Royal Academy, hanging out with a prince.”

His gaze skates to me, the corners of his lips quirking as he struggles not to smile. “You know I’m not really a prince, right?”

I tap my fingers against my lip while purposefully eyeing him over. “I don’t know. You sure look like one.”

He shakes his head, but his smile breaks through.

I playfully nudge his shoulder. “I made you smile. I win.”

His smile fades as his gaze locks on me. “You did.”

Silence grasps the air, and his gaze drops to my mouth. For a moment, I think he might kiss me again. For a moment, I contemplate kissing him. But then a massive SUV with tinted windows rolls up to the curb and shatters … Well, whatever the hell that was between us.

The window rolls down, and a thirty-something-year-old driver asks, “River Averson?”

Instead of answering, River takes out his phone and glances at the screen. On it is a photo of the driver, only now he has a beard. But his eyes look the same.

“Yeah,” River tells the guy as he pockets his phone. Then he steps forward and holds the back door open for me. When I questioningly look at him, he explains, “I have to be careful. I’ve had a couple of instances where someone pretended to be my driver, and then I almost got taken.”

All I can do is gape at him before hoisting myself into the back seat. I recall all the times I felt in danger and all the precautionary measures I’ve had to take. I guess danger lurks on both sides of the city; one just masks it better.

The driver gave River a funny look when he told him where to take us but still proceeded to head in that direction without protesting. If I were the guy, I’d consider backing out. He’s in a fancy enough vehicle that he might get carjacked, and River is making him wait for us while we sneak into my house. I’m worried that my mother will be home, and if I walk into the house with River, she’ll take one look at him and try to con him. I don’t believe River will fall for it, but I don’t want to deal with it.

So, as we near the house, I decide on something.

I rotate in the seat so my knees are angled toward him. “I think I should just go inside alone.”

He shakes his head. “No way. I should go in with you.”

“I appreciate everything you’re doing for me, but I’d rather you not go in there.” I tuck my hands underneath my legs. “I can handle this. I promise.”

He eyeballs the dirty streets, the worn-out, boarded-up buildings lining the roads, and the groups of people loitering the area. They all look rough; some are drinking, some are dealing drugs, and some are selling themselves. It’s a rough life out here, and a part of me gets it—you do what you have to to survive. It sucks, but trying to rise from the broken streets of poverty into a better world is hard and many fail.

I worry I will.

In fact, I know the odds are against me.

But I’m a fighter.

Always have been.

“I know you can handle it.” He returns his gaze to mine. “You’re one of the toughest people I’ve ever met. But that doesn’t mean you have to handle it alone.” He inhales then exhales before reaching over and taking a hold of my hand. This time, he does more than brush his fingers along my hand. He threads his fingers through and holds my hand.

I should pull away—I know I should. I’m heading down a dangerous road that will only lead to heartbreak. But dammit, does his hand on mine feel so good.

Pathetically, I don’t pull away. I’ve never actually held a guy’s hand before. I’ve kissed a few here and there for fun, but nothing ever went further, except for the few times guys have attempted to force themselves on me.

River is so sweet it’s mind-boggling to me. And I like it. Too much. Because at the end of the day, he already belongs to someone, even if they both don’t want the arranged marriage.

I should let go of his hand.

I know I should.

And yet, I keep holding it the entire drive, even when my hand feels sweaty. How he doesn’t feel grossed out about that is beyond me. Then again, his hand is kind of nasty, too.

When we near my apartment, I scoot forward in the seat. “This is it up here on the corner,” I inform the driver. You should go around, though, and park out back. There are fewer people out there.” I pretend it’s for his benefit. Really, though, it’s for me.

“Um … okay.” Wariness floods his tone, but he still slows to a stop, flips on the blinker, and turns into the parking lot that’s in front of the complex.

Music is blasting from several apartments and it can be heard throughout the area. The back section is relatively quiet, though, except for a few broken-down cars and some trash cans. Trees dot the land behind it. On the other side of those are a few businesses, like a gas station and a grocery store. I used to walk through those woods all the time when I was younger to buy food whenever we ran out. I would take a thin, narrow trail that weaves through the trees. It was terrifying to go down, even in broad daylight.

When the driver parks beside the trash cans, I mutter a, “Thanks,” then tell River, “I’ll be right back.”

He doesn’t release my hand when I scoot toward the door. “I …” He’s looking around the outside, at the dirtiness of everything. “I’ll go in with you.”

“River,” I start to protest with a trace of annoyance.

“Maddy,” he throws back. “I get that you can handle this, but I don’t feel good about letting you go out there by yourself. I don’t care if you’ve done it a million times—it’s not right for you to be wandering around in a place like this.”

“Maybe it just looks dangerous?” I challenge, full of shit.

“Maybe, but you’re also forgetting Finn and I were arrested on this side of town—I’ve been here before, and I know this place isn’t safe.”

“How many times have you been here?”

“I know what you’re trying to prove—that I haven’t been here enough to know how things work. And maybe I don’t, but do you believe it’s safe? Or are you just being tough Maddy? Because you don’t have to be right now. I can go with you, and you can feel safe. It doesn’t have to mean anything else.”

I slowly blink as his words register. He called me out on my bullshit. And he’s one hundred percent right. But that doesn’t make it any easier to agree. I’ve always been a loner, doing things on my own. It’s how I survive. Because trusting people has never gotten me anything—ever. Even my aunt, the one person whom I’ve trusted in this world, took off. Sure, she needed to go live her life, but she didn’t need to go all MIA on me.

“Okay,” I agree, detecting the slightest drop of tension evaporating from his shoulders. “But we might be sneaking in through a window, depending on if my mother is there.”

He nods. “I know how to sneak in and out of places.”

I eye him over. “What places have you snuck in and out of?”

He leans in, his lips brushing my ear as he whispers, “I’ve spent my entire life sneaking around to avoid the paparazzi.”

And there goes that heart flutter again.

What the actual hell?

“All right, point proven.” I move away from him and push open the door.

He still doesn’t release my hand even when I climb out. He moves with me, and hops out, too.

“We’ll be back shortly,” he informs the driver before shutting the door.

The locks immediately click.

“That guy is creeped out about being here.” I start toward the left side of the building where my bedroom window is located.

“I picked up on that, too.” He tightens his hold on my hand as we near the corner. “But he’s getting paid good money, so he should be fine.”

“We’ll see.” I pause at the corner then peek around, relieved to see no one lurking in the shadows. “I have a feeling our ride might be gone by the time we get out.”

He’s standing so close to me that I can feel his body heat kissing my skin. “I’ll call another driver if that happens.”

“Always the problem solver,” I tease, throwing him a grin over my shoulder.

He smiles back, but it’s faint, and his eyes briefly descend to my lips. It’s like the third time he’s looked, as if he’s contemplating kissing me. Part of me wants to tell him we can’t cross that line so I can put an end to the impending torment of heartache that I’m sure will follow what I know will be a hot as hell kiss. The other part of me wants to say fuck it and deal with the aftermath.

Is pain really worth a soul-connecting moment? I don’t know. I’ve lived my life not following that rule, and I’m starting to question my decision.

“Come on,” I tell him, tugging on his hand. “Let’s go scope the place out.”

His boots scuff against the gravel as he slightly stumbles but quickly recovers. Then we creep like weirdos past a few curtain-closed windows until we reach mine. The curtain is shut, but I can tell the lights are off, either in the entire house or the bedroom door is shut.

“Be super quiet,” I whisper, letting go of his hand so I can carefully slide the window open.

“It isn’t locked?” River whispers back, his wide-eyed gaze almost laughable.

“It doesn’t lock,” I tell him as I inch the window open further.

“Maddy, how in the …?” He shakes his head, stunned. “This isn’t safe.”

“Well, I don’t live here anymore,” I reply quietly as I get the window open all the way. “And no one crept through it while I was living here.” Granted, I sometimes used to push furniture in front of it to ensure I stayed safe, especially when many parties were going on at the place.

I put my hands on the windowsill and hoist myself inside, swinging my legs over and ducking underneath the curtain. Relief washes over me as I note that my bedroom door is shut, but no light is coming through underneath it. Between that and the soundlessness of the house, my bet is my mother is out. That’s not a total surprise—she’s rarely home.

As I straighten, I move out of the way as River climbs inside. Once he’s in, I close the window, wincing as a sliver gets lodged into my thumb.

“Dammit,” I whisper as I close the curtain and darkness encases us.

“What’s wrong?” River sounds close, but it’s too dark for me to tell.

“I got a sliver in my finger. It’s no biggie. I’ll pull it out when we get out of here.” I start toward the door, squinting against the darkness so I can make out the outline of the furniture. “I’m going to make sure my mother isn’t sleeping in her room. Hold on.” Sucking in a breath, I open the door and tiptoe down the hallway to her room.

The door is open, and the curtains at her window are open enough to let in the streetlights from outside, showing that her bed is empty, unmade, and covered with a collection of alcohol bottles.

I also check the living room to check that she’s not passed out on the sofa. Once I’m convinced the coast is clear, I return to my room, close and lock the door, and flip on the flashlight on my phone.

River squints against the light, but after blinking a few times, he takes in my messy bedroom.

“It isn’t always this messy,” I feel the need to explain as I make my way over to the dresser where the necklace is stashed. “The night I was in jail, my mom ransacked my room and took all my money I had hidden. And this is what she left me.” I gesture at the floor while avoiding eye contact with him.

For the first time in a long time, I feel ashamed of who I am. To distract myself from that, I focus on getting the dresser drawer open. Like a dumbass, I use my thumb that has the sliver in it.

I hiss then pull back. “Damn sliver,” I mumble.

I set the flashlight down on the dress so I can use my good hand to rummage around. The air is quiet between River and me. I want to peek over and see what he’s doing, but I have no desire to look at the appalled expression that has to be on his face.

“It should be in here behind the drawer,” I mumble as I attempt to wiggle the drawer out with one hand. “Hold on.”

He moves beside me and brushes strands of my hair off my shoulder. When my gaze darts to him, he surprisingly doesn’t look appalled.

“Let me,” he offers.

I step back and gesture at him to go ahead. He easily gets the drawer out, and there it is, lying in behind a stack of papers. How my mother didn’t find it during her ransack is beyond me. Or perhaps she didn’t believe it had any value and left it behind.

River picks it up. He has the flashlight on his phone on, shining the light on the crown-shaped pendant with a black stone centerpiece.

“It’s pretty scratched up,” I state the obvious as I inch closer to him to get a better look. “That probably means it’s fake, right?”

He wavers. “Or old.”

“You’re pretty set on it being real,” I joke in an attempt to lighten the mood. “You hoping I’m a royal, pretty boy? That way, you don’t have to spend time with a girl from northside.”

He continues to inspect the pendant. “I like hanging out with you, Maddy, whether you’re from northside or a royal. It doesn’t matter to me. I just like you.”

I’m unsure if he knows how much his words affect me. They do, to the point where my legs feel shaky. I could say something snarky back, crack a joke, tease the hell out of him. It’d help me regain my bearings. But I can’t seem to find words—like any. So, I end up standing there silently until he’s done looking over the necklace.

“We’ll have to take it to a jewelry specialist to find out if it’s authentic.” He hands me back the necklace. “My mom can probably set us up with someone.”

I slip the necklace into my jacket pocket. “What’re you going to tell her it’s for?”

“The truth. She won’t judge or anything like that. That’s my father’s thing. Not hers.”

“Lily is having her help me get a job with this event planner she knows.”

“Stephanie?” he asks.

“They didn’t tell me her name.” I grab my phone and scan the light around my room, wondering if I want to take anything with me.

“It’s probably Stephanie. She’s nice.”

“That’s good. I’ve had a couple of nice bosses and a couple of power trippers, so I can have the shitty ones, but I’d rather not have to.” I glance at him. “Have you ever worked before?”

“My father makes Finn and I intern at his office during the summers.” He slips his hands into the pockets of his jeans. “We don’t get paid, but we have enough money that it doesn’t matter. Although, working for him sucks because it’s just a reminder of where my future is heading.”

“You’re taking over his business?”

“Yep. Right after I get married,” he bites out the words as he stares at the wall where a collage of photos are taped up. “Is that your mom?” He changes the subject as he shines the light on a photo of me and my aunt.

We’re standing in front of a waterfall after she took me for a hike. It was the one and only time I’ve gone hiking, and it was a nice day, full of no worries. But then we returned home, and she and my mother got into a fight about my mother leaving drugs all over the house.

“That’s my aunt Ellie actually.” I step up beside him. “She’s the one who gave me the necklace.”

“She looks a lot like you,” he says, glancing at me.

“People say that a lot, and I can see it.”

“She’s pretty.”

“Is that your way of saying I’m pretty?” I smirk.

“Well, I called you beautiful like three times tonight, so I think it’s pretty clear I find you attractive.” He looks away, his eyes wide, as if he didn’t mean to say that. “What about this photo? Is that an old boyfriend?”

When I note the photo he’s looking at, I snort a laugh. A few people are in it, lined up and smiling. One of them is me, and the other is Drew.

“No, that’s Drew. Back before his pre-dickhead days, we were kind of friends. This photo was taken during a decent summer, but right after it, Drew decided he needed to join the drug world.” I roll my eyes. “And he turned into an asshole. Obviously.”

He processes this then moves to another photo. “What about this guy?”

“That’s a guy I briefly worked with. He was cool, but he moved away after, like, three months.” I turn to face him. “Are you subtly trying to get my dating history? Because if that’s the case, I’ll make it easy for you.” I gesture at the wall. “I haven’t dated any of these guys in these photos or in the world.”

His lips part in surprise, and it makes me giggle.

“Why are you laughing at me?” he wonders with his brows furrowed.

“Because you look so shocked by that,” I reply. “I’m not sure why. You haven’t dated anyone before.”

“I know, but …” He’s struggling with this information. “I have a reason why I don’t.”

“I know. And I have my reasons why I haven’t.”

“Oh …” He drags out a pause. “Can I ask what those reasons are? You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to.”

“It’s fine. It’s not a big mystery.” I pluck a few photos off my wall and stuff them into my pocket, deciding to take them with me. “A lot of people I know start dating and end up either getting consumed by their relationship, get into a toxic one, or some of the women I know end up knocked up. I’ve always known that I wanted out of northside. I want a better life with a career and stability. And so, to make sure that plan happens for me, I decided I didn’t want any distractions or risks.”

“And so, no dating.”

“Yep, no dating.”

“That makes sense.” His gaze tracks me as I wander around the room, picking up a few items to take with me. “What about now?”

“Hmmm?” I’m picking up an old band T-shirt, but pause, glancing at him.

He shifts his weight while massaging the back of his neck. “Is that rule still in play now that you’re in college?”

I hesitate, trying to dissect the meaning of his question. With how many times it seemed like he might kiss me, I’d question if he was asking for himself. But River doesn’t date either, so perhaps he’s simply curious.

“I don’t know.” I stand up straight. “It’s not that I don’t want to date, but I’m going to a college full of royals and, no offense to you—you’re like the sweetest guy I’ve ever met—but from what I’ve seen, when a royal dates a northsider, it’s usually because they’re a sidepiece.”

“That does happen a lot.” A disappointed frown is etched on his face, but then he grins. “You think I’m sweet?”

“Not think . I know .” I collect a backpack from off the floor and stuff the items into it.

“A lot of people would disagree with you. In fact, I’ve got a reputation for being a total asshole.”

“That doesn’t surprise me. I thought that about you when I first met you.” I sling the backpack over my shoulder and flash him a toothy grin. “But underneath that hard candy shell, you’re just a chocolatey center that’s all melty and soft.”

He stares at me, unimpressed. “Did you just compare me to an M&M?”

“What? They’re yummy?” I giggle as I back toward the window.

He shakes his head, his eyes playfully narrowing. “You’re yum?—”

Bang!

“What the hell was that?” River hisses, hurrying over toward me in a protective way.

Blood roars in my eardrums as my heart thunders. “The front door slamming shut.”

“I’m trying to find her … I know … Look, I’ll get her to you, but Maddy’s smart, so we gotta play it smart.” My mother’s voice floats through the house.

“She’s talking to Drew,” I whisper through a gulp.

My throat feels tight. It’s stupid after all these years of her being a terrible mother, but it still hurts knowing she’s helping Drew try to get a hold of me.

River places his hand on my back and urges me toward the window. “Come on. Let’s get out of here.”

“I’ll do it, okay?” my mother says, her voice sounding close to my door now.

I snap out of my trance, quietly glide the window open, toss my bag out, and then move to duck outside. As I grip the windowsill, the sliver becomes lodged deeper into my flesh.

I let out a string of curses underneath my breath but disregard the pain and duck out. My boots land on the gravel with a soft thump as I stumble. I regain my balance and scoop up my bag right as River climbs out.

He grabs my uninjured hand and tows me with him as he heads toward the back of the building.

I slam on the brakes. “Hold on. I want to close the window so she won’t suspect anything’s been going on.”

He opens his mouth, I think to protest, but then the bedroom light flips on. The curtains are wide open, and my mother is standing in the room, looking directly at me.

It’s clear by her stunned expression that she didn’t expect to find me.

“What the hell?” she mutters, blinking a few times.

“Run,” I hiss at River as I start to take off.

He takes off with me, grabbing the backpack from my hand as I do. I throw him a what-the-hell look, but he merely slips it on. Always the gentleman, even in a time of crisis.

And that crisis worsens as we round the back of the building and find our Uber is gone.

“Shit,” River curses as we both come to a halt where the SUV was parked.

He frantically peers around at the back of the building, the street behind us, and then to the trees. “He took off.”

“I thought he might.” I’m panicking, my mind moving too fast for me to process a plan.

I need to calm down.

I need to think.

Breathe, Maddy. Just breathe.

Weirdly, my aunt’s voice fills my head.

It snaps me out of my fear enough that I can move my feet.

“Come on. There’s a path through the trees.” I yank River with me before he can even respond and guide him into the trees.

Light slips away from us the farther we get into the branches and bushes. The sounds of twigs snapping underneath our shoes fill up the silence sweeping around us.

“Maddy!” my mother shouts, her voice slicing through that silence.

I quicken my pace. So does River while digging out his phone.

“What’re you doing?” I whisper as his screen illuminates.

“Calling for a car to pick us up,” he replies in a hushed whisper. “Do you know a place where one can pick us up?”

I rack my brain for a place. “Yeah … I think we should be okay in the grocery store. We can hide out there until the car arrives.” I give him the address, and he punches it into the app.

We reach the end of the trees then, and I quicken my pace to a jog. River does, too, and before I know it, we’re both running down the sidewalk at full speed.

Every time a car passes by, tension ravels through my body at the probability that it could be Drew. But we manage to make it into the store safely, shaken and a little out of breath.

I don’t stand at the front of the store. Instead, I wander back toward the cookie sections in the farthest corner. Then I release River’s hand and exhale as I slump back against one of the shelves.

“I’m so sorry,” I apologize, frustrated with myself. Yes, I wanted to get the necklace, but was it worth it? It’s not like I believe I belong to this royal bloodline.

River’s cheeks are flushed, strands of his hair are sticking up all over the place, and his brows are knit. “For what?”

I gesture at the brightly lit up aisle of cookies and the dingy linoleum floor. “For bringing you into this mess. I should’ve known better, but I got too curious. And you know what they say—curiosity helped capture the north-sider with the bounty.”

He slouches against the shelf behind us and crosses his arms. “You’re forgetting it was my idea to do this.”

“So? I’m the one who was more than aware that that”—I point my finger at the entrance doors that lead to the outside where Drew could be waiting—“could happen. But I ignored that little voice in the back of my mind.”

His eyes search mine as he remains silent for a heartbeat. “How about we stop blaming ourselves and put the blame on the person who caused this?”

“My dad?”

“Yeah.”

I waver, fiddling with the zipper on my jacket. “I guess I can do that.” But I still feel a drop of guilt over bringing River with me.

The corners of his lips pull into a dazzling smile. “How about we buy some cookies and milk while we wait?”

I cock a brow with a smile on my face. “Cookies and milk? What are we—five?”

He shrugs, his eyes glinting with amusement. “Cookies and milk always calm me down, whether I’m five or nineteen.”

Again, he’s so cute I almost can’t stand it. I’m not used to this type of sweetness.

“Fine, let’s get some cookies and milk,” I agree, pushing away from the shelf.

His smile widens, and I can’t help laughing.

“I’ve never seen anyone get so excited about cookies,” I remark as we amble down the aisle.

As we stop in front of the cookie section, he assesses the selection with his head angled to the side. “It’s because I don’t eat them a lot. I try to stick to a specific diet during training sessions.”

“Does it help?” I wonder. “I’ve done it before.”

“It does.” He picks up a box of frosted sugar cookies. “It’s always good to have a cheat day, though.”

“Or cheat night.” I tap the box.

“Or cheat night,” he agrees, showing me the cookies. “What do you think? Do you like sugar cookies?”

“They’re my favorite,” I reply, and that makes his grin shine through even more.

“Let’s go find the milk then.” He nods for me to follow as he walks off toward the right back section of the store.

I follow, my head spinning with confusion. Tonight has been bizarre. I went from hanging out to feeling betrayed by my mother to running from Drew to hanging out with River and talking about eating cookies and drinking milk.

“I’m not used to this,” I announce suddenly.

River flicks me a confused glance as he opens the refrigerator door where the milk is. “Used to what?”

I lift a shoulder. “I don’t know, like hanging out, feeling chill.”

“You feel chill?” he asks amusedly as he grabs the milk. “Maybe that’s from the fridge door being open.”

I give him a hardy har look. “That’s not what I meant, and you know it.”

“I know, but I couldn’t resist.” He grabs a carton of milk and lets the door close behind him.

“I’m just stressed out a lot.” And apparently being Miss Honesty tonight.

“Yeah, me, too,” he agrees as if the statement deeply puzzles him. “I’m not tonight, though.”

“Maybe two stressful basket cases cancel each other out?” I suggest, sticking out my fist. “Fist-bump for that.”

He taps knuckles with me right as his phone beeps. “I think that’s our car. How about we pay and get the hell out of here?”

I nod, and then we make our way to the cash register. On our way, he grabs a pair of tweezers so we can remove the sliver from my finger.

While waiting in line, River gets a text message from someone and becomes distracted with sending a reply. I start to grow paranoid, glancing at all the faces around, searching for Drew in the midst.

“Ellie?” someone abruptly asks from right beside me.

I wouldn’t have reacted, but they’re so close that I startle.

When I glance behind me, I find a middle-aged man with dark hair and eyes standing in line. He has on a crisp suit that screams royal. So does his watch and ring. What I don’t understand, though, is why he’s in this grocery store. And why did he just say my aunt’s name. Unless it’s a coincidence. Ellie is a relatively normal name.

“Um, no, sorry,” I tell him when he continues to gawk at me.

“Oh, sorry.” He stares at me as if I’m some rare unicorn standing in front of him in all of her glittery form. “Jesus, you look so much like her. It’s startling.”

I offer him a tight smile then start to turn away.

But then he adds, “Is your last name Clairford?”

I pause then twist back to face him. “Why?” I wonder suspiciously.

“I used to date a woman named Ellie Clairford,” he explains. “You look just like her. Or, well, how she used to look back when I dated. It’s been years since I’ve even seen her.”

“Is everything okay?” River asks as he puts his phone away. He inches closer to me, something he seems to do frequently when he believes I’m in danger.

“Yeah.” I study the guy closely. “This guy used to date my aunt.”

River glances at the guy, and recognition clicks across his face. “I know you. You attend events with my parents. You own that law firm, right?”

“A few of them.” The guy remains fixated on me.

I’m aware that I resemble my aunt, but he acts like he’s dumbfounded by the similarities.

“My name’s Grey.” He sticks out his hand, as if he expects me to shake it.

Instead, I eye it dubiously. “Um, okay. Maybe you’re being friendly, but I’m not about to hand over my name or shake the hand of some rando. No offense.”

His brows dip, but the corners of his mouth twitch. “You’re just like her, too. It’s so crazy. Have you guys spent a lot of time together?”

I give the guy an incredulous look. Does he really expect me to answer these questions?

“It was nice talking to you, but we need to go,” River interrupts, placing a hand on my arm.

I easily let him lead me toward the register.

Grey doesn’t comment, but he watches me the entire time the cashier is ringing up our food. By the time we exit the grocery store, I feel like I’m about to crawl out of my skin. Thankfully, our car is parked out front and waiting for us. We hurriedly climb in, and I slump in the seat in relief.

“That was so weird,” I mutter, peering over my shoulder at the grocery store. “Dude, he’s watching us drive away,” I state at the sight of Grey standing in front of the entrance doors with his gaze fixed on the car River and I are in.

River cranes his neck and glances out the window. “Why is he acting like that?” he questions as he places the bags of food we bought beside our feet. “He’s a pretty respectable guy in the royal world, but right now, he’s acting like a creep.”

“Maybe he has a creepy side to him? You never know.”

“Maybe.” He twists back around with a crinkle between his brows. “I don’t know. I never got creep vibes from him before, and I have had them with people.”

“Do you have a sixth sense or something?” I playfully nudge him with my elbow.

“No, I’ve just been around some shitty people, and you start to notice patterns—characteristics that those types of people have.” He crosses his arms, tension rippling through his body.

I can tell there’s something deep in his words, but I don’t want to pry.

“I get it,” I tell him instead while shifting my weight. “I’ve spent my entire life around those types of people, too. Although, some wear their masks better than others.”

He nods, strands of his dark hair falling into his pretty eyes.

We stare at each other silently, and I’m sure it’s weird as hell for the driver. Doesn’t mean I want to stop doing it. I feel this connection with River that’s both wonderful and tarrying. I think he might feel it, too. It’s making him uncomfortable, though, something that’s evident when he clears his throat a few times and looks down at the food on the floor.

“Should we eat these here? Or wait until we get back to the academy?”

“Let’s wait.” I recline back in the seat. “We can eat outside, if you want.” I check the time on my phone. “It’s not super late. Plus, look at the sky right now.” I lean to the side to glance out the window. “It’s so clear out here. On the northside, there’s more pollution because of all the industrial buildings, so the stars and moon are rarely this visible.”

River could have peered out his own window, but he choose to lean toward me and look out mine. It puts him right by me, within smelling distance. I inhale, and the scent of his cologne kisses my nostrils.

God, he smells so good.

God, I am so screwed.

“I like that idea.” He smiles at me, and he’s so close.

My heart flutters.

Yep, like I said. Screwed.