Chapter 10 #2
“Gendered for some reason.”
He gives me a cheeky glare before continuing. “The chips are crispy on the outside, but like clouds on the inside with just
the right amount of salt.”
“Are you turning yourself on right now?”
“Am I turning you on?”
“I swear, if you tell me dessert is in your pants, I’m walking out of here and hitchhiking back to the castle.”
He laughs. “Dessert is sticky toffee pudding.”
“I don’t know what it is, but I’m in.”
Captain comes back and takes our order. When Finn says we’re both taking his usual, Captain rests a hand on Finn’s shoulder.
“It’s nice to see you with some company finally.”
The comment catches me off guard. I assumed when Finn brought me here that I was one in a string of girls. After all, the
tabloid photos painted a picture of him that was hard to ignore.
“I didn’t take you for the solo-dining type,” I say after Captain steps away.
Finn shrugs. “Inveresk Castle has been in my family for generations, and the locals are accustomed to having us around. Me,
especially. There aren’t many places where I can have a quiet meal on my own, so I come here fairly often.”
It’s true. There are plenty of other customers in here, all of whom look like very chill retirees, none of whom are so much
as looking at Finn.
“What about your family? Do they ever come with you?”
Instead of answering, Finn looks out the window, where the wind is picking up.
The families who were playing on the beach are packing up their gear; parents are cleaning off little toddler hands.
“Not recently. We’re not on the best terms at the moment.
” A million questions race toward the tip of my tongue, but I bite them back and wait for him to continue.
“As I said, they’re all in France without me.
My parents thought it’d be ‘good’ for me to have a ‘quiet summer’ away from distractions.
I . . . Um. Well, I recently suffered a minor heartbreak.
That’s what led to all the partying, which in turn led to becoming ‘an embarrassment to us all,’ to quote my father.
” He swallows, as though he can stop the heartbreak from rising up again.
“That’s awful. To abandon you like that when you’re suffering.”
Finn lets out a bitter laugh. “Yes, well, we’re not exactly the type of family that gathers round the kitchen table for tea
and cozy chats about our feelings.”
“Mine either. At least, not my feelings. There never seems to be enough time for those.” I pause, then ask gently, “Who was
she?”
I can almost hear the gears in Finn’s head turning as he tries to decide how much to reveal. “A long-time family friend,”
he says finally. “She’s called Beatrice.”
“Sounds complicated,” I say, trying to keep my tone neutral.
“A bit, perhaps. There’s always been this sort of . . . understanding in my family. That I can date whomever I like, get all
the ‘unsuitable’ girls out of my system, and then eventually settle down with the right kind.”
“Like Beatrice?”
“My parents never hid the fact that she was their first choice. Our parents are close. Our grandparents are close. So naturally we wanted nothing to do with each other when we were growing up. But last summer, that . . . changed.
Beatrice and I kissed for the first time, and this person whom I’d been expected to marry became the person I could actually
see myself marrying. Our casual friendship turned into a friendship with rather fun benefits, and that turned into something
akin to love. At least it did for me.”
An ache spreads in my chest for Finn because I know what he’s experiencing right now. I know it firsthand. “What happened?”
“We were together for six months. I sincerely thought that was it for me. I thought she was the person I would be with forever.
Remember, we hadn’t just had six months as a couple, we’d had a lifetime as family friends as well.” He shakes his head. “Then,
out of nowhere, she pulls the rug out from under me, so to speak, and ends things.”
“Why?” I ask, perplexed. Sure, Finn can be a brat, but he’s still funny and smart—and too hot for his own good. Never mind
that he’s a prince, for crying out loud.
“Ah, there’s the rub. I have no idea.”
“And you dealt with the heartbreak, the lack of closure, by running around looking for distractions that got you in the tabloids,”
I say, recalling some of the headlines from earlier this year. “Bye-Bye Beatrice: Finn Is a Free Man” and “Prince Says Bea
Gone.”
“Much to my parents’ great delight,” Finn adds.
Just then, Captain appears with our lobster rolls and fries—or, rather, chips. I take what I mean to be a quick, discreet bite so I don’t derail the first sincere conversation Finn and I have ever had,
but to my horror, a mortifying moan escapes my lips as I swallow.
“Would you and the lobster roll like some privacy?” Finn asks.
“We might,” I say, then take another bite. “God, that’s good. This is my first time having lobster.”
“You’re joking.”
I shoot him a look. “We’re not all royalty, Mr. I’ve Spent My Whole Life in Castles.”
“Lobster was considered peasant food for most of history, actually. Its association with luxury is quite recent, actually.
And besides, doesn’t your country have some appalling chain called Red Lobster?”
“I’m tuning you out. Nothing is going to come between me and the lobster. I want to make out with it. I thought I wanted to
marry the car we drove here. Now I think I want to marry this sandwich.”
“It’s probably legal here. Scotland is quite progressive.”
I resist the urge to keep the banter going, even though it’s much more familiar, comfortable ground for us. “I’m sorry about
Beatrice,” I say. “Breakups are the worst, even without the entire country reading about it.”
“Yes, well . . .” He looks away and bites into a chip. Perhaps I’ve made a misstep, acknowledging what I saw online. As penance for my insensitivity, I decide to admit something too.
“I left Wisconsin because my best friend and my boyfriend slept together,” I say in a rush because I’m afraid if I say it
slowly, I’ll cry, and I’ve already shed too many tears over those two. “Multiple times.”
Finn lowers the chip. “Fuck. Really?”
I nod.
“That’s awful,” he says, shaking his head. “Do you want me to send the royal guard to rough them up?”
“Possibly. Can I think about it and let you know?”
“Certainly. So what happened? I’m all ears and fully prepared to hate them both until I die.”
“Dean and I were together for our last two years of high school,” I explain, thinking back to how it felt to wear his jacket
around my shoulders when I was cold in class, how we’d make out in the back seat of his truck while listening to a playlist
I made for him. “Gigi and I had been best friends since kindergarten. I never, in a million years, thought either one of them
would betray me. But it turned out, they both did. And had been doing just that for the entirety of our senior year.”
“Okay, the royal guard isn’t going to be enough for these two,” Finn says, frowning. “I’ll call the British Army.”
“Yeah.” My chin trembles. I breathe in and out, determined not to cry.
“How did you find out?” Finn asks, reaching for my hand. “If you don’t want to talk about it, you don’t—”
“No, it’s okay,” I say. “On our last day of school, our teachers let us do whatever we wanted. We normally weren’t allowed
to have phones in class, but at that point, who cared? I was scrolling through my phone, adding different people on Snap that
I wanted to keep in contact with, when someone AirDropped me pictures of Gigi and Dean kissing at a party.”
“Oh, Hannah . . .” Finn squeezes my hand, sending a surge of warmth up my arm and into my chest, thawing the feelings I tried
so hard to lock away.
“I was in shock. I . . . Anyway, after school, I showed them the pictures, they broke down and told me everything. I felt
like such an idiot.” A tear slips down my cheek.
“Forget the royal guard and the British Army, I might just take care of them myself,” Finn says.
He sounds so genuinely angry, I can’t help but laugh. I let go of his hand to wipe my eyes and say, “That wouldn’t be a great way to stay out of the papers.”
Captain arrives with our dessert, the famous sticky toffee pudding. “Brilliant,” Finn says. “I’m a big believer in eating
one’s feelings.”
The “pudding” looks more like a cake with caramel sauce drizzled on top, and I’m suddenly very into this plan. “Ladies first,”
Finn says.
The pudding is both dense and moist, and the drizzle has a sweetness that dances across my tongue. I roll my head back. “This is heaven. I’m in heaven.”
“The first bite never gets old,” Finn agrees.
People are starting to stare, and I don’t think it’s because there’s a royal in their midst. I don’t care. Because to my surprise,
I feel more relaxed and comfortable than I have in a very long time.
I sit up. “Finn?”
“Hannah?”
“I’m sorry if I was hard on you. I’m sorry that I misjudged you.”
He cocks his head and surveys me, as if waiting for the punch line. “You’re serious,” he says.
“I’d never lie in the presence of sticky toffee pudding, the holiest of desserts.”
“I’d better remember that. Could come in handy someday. And I’m sorry I gave you a reason to see me as a rapscallion.” He
pauses. “Please, please don’t respond with some quote from Pride and Prejudice about first impressions.”
“Why not? What do you have against Jane Austen?”
“I have nothing but fondness and respect for Ms. Austen. I just don’t want you ruining our lovely moment with your appalling
accent.”
Our lovely moment.
This feels like a fresh start between us. One I’m ready for.