Chapter 19 #4
Her cheeks flush as she grows flustered.
“Okay, yeah, just make it quick, okay?” She backs toward the back area and picks up a cordless phone.
“My name’s Eve, by the way.” She hands River the phone while flitting a glance in my direction and subtly measuring me up.
She’s trying to figure out what River and I are.
Not wanting her to think we’re dating, especially since he’s flirting with her so he can use the phone, I ask her, “Is it okay if I use your restroom?”
She nods, her eyes traveling over me. A pucker forms at her brows. “Sure. It’s right over there.” She points at a hallway to my right.
“Thanks.” I start to walk away.
“Wait—do I know you?” she asks after I’ve taken a couple of steps.
I twist back around. “No. I’m not even from around here.”
She continues to stare at me but doesn’t say a word, so I walk away and go into the bathroom. I don’t have to go, but I need a breather from the fancy café, the staring, and the lingering thoughts of how much I liked River holding my hand.
What the heck is wrong with me? I’ve never gotten so flustered over a guy holding my hand before.
Once inside the single bathroom, I lock the door and stand in front of the mirror, staring at my reflection.
My dark hair is dripping wet, my cheeks are flushed, and my top is clinging to my skin.
No wonder everyone was staring at us as we ran in.
Add my disheveled appearance with River’s shirtlessness, and we probably look like north-siders. So, I look like myself.
I remain in front of the mirror for a few minutes before leaving the restroom.
I’ve warmed up a bit by then, but when I return to the counter where River is waiting for me, he tells me, “Finn’s coming to get us.
He’ll be here in about fifteen minutes, but we have to wait outside.
” He nods subtly at Eve, the cashier, who’s now glaring at River with her arms crossed.
“Um, okay.” I trail after River as he winds around the tables and exits the café.
Once outside, the cold, wet air almost instantaneously chills my bones.
“What was that about?” I ask, nodding back at the inside of the café. “She seemed fine when I left for the bathroom but looked like she wanted to murder you by the time I returned.”
“I pissed her off,” River confesses as we stand under the canopy doming above the entrance doors.
“I got that, but how? Because you were charming the hell out of her when I walked away.”
He faces me. “She asked if she could have my number, and I said no because you were my girlfriend.”
“What? Why did you do that?” I playfully shove him. “That’s so not cool.”
“Sorry.” He barely stumbles. “I panicked.”
“You could’ve just given her a fake number.”
“I guess.” He wrinkled his nose as if that just occurred to him.
“You’re not used to getting hit on?” I question. “Because it seems like you’re not.”
He shrugs. “Almost everyone I know knows I’m betrothed.”
“Oh.” I lean back against the wall beside the door. “I’m sorry.”
Confusion swirls in his pupils as potently as the rain rivering down the sidewalk behind him. “For what?”
I shrug while rubbing my hands up and down my arms as a shiver rolls through my body. “I don’t know. For not being able to make your own choices, I guess.”
His eyes search mine. “I think you might be the first person who’s ever said that to me.”
“Really?”
“Yeah.”
“Well, I’m sorry for that, too.”
We grow silent then with rain, thunder, and cars splashing through puddles echoing in the distance.
Hardly anyone is walking around now, the sidewalks basically empty.
The longer we stand there, the colder the temperature drops, and no matter how tightly I wrap my arm around myself, I can’t warm up.
“You’re freezing,” River notes as he eyes how badly I’m shivering. “You should go inside. You’re wearing enough clothes that she can’t kick you out.”
I shake my head. “I’d rather not go back in there.”
“Maddy,” he starts to say.
“I’m fine,” I assure him. “I’d rather stand out here and freeze for a few more minutes than get gawked at.”
He rakes his teeth along his bottom lip. “I have an idea. Don’t freak out.” He steps toward me.
I stiffen. “What are you doing?”
“I’m just getting closer to you to block some of the cold air,” he informs me as he reduces the space between us.
My breath gets lodged in my throat as he stands so close to me that I can feel the heat coming off his body. How the hell he’s still mildly warm is beyond me.
Slowly, as if approaching a skittish cat, he places a hand against the wall so I’m trapped between his arms. Then he looks down at me. “Is this okay?”
I nod, working to keep my breathing even.
Usually, I’m a badass in these types of situations. But I’m also usually annoyed when a guy is crowding my personal space. I’ve only kissed a few guys, and those were lame as hell, mainly because every time it happened, both me and the guy were drunk, and the kisses were sloppy at best.
He sucks in a gradual inhale through his nose, as if he’s struggling to breathe evenly, too.
We remain that way for a few minutes, and slowly, the coldness creeps away from my body.
“Feeling any better?” River asks softly.
I nod again while biting my bottom lip.
His gaze drops to my mouth.
My heart leaps in my chest.
Shut the hell up, heart.
River starts to lean in, and then our lips touch.
He groans, his hand cupping my cheek as his tongue parts my mouth—
Honk. Honk. Honk.
We both startle. River pushes away from the wall and spins around toward the curb where a sleek red sports car with custom tires and a spoiler is parked. The passenger window rolls down, and sitting in the driver’s seat is a grinning Finn.
“Did I just ruin a moment between the gothic princess and prince?” he teases with his arm resting on the steering wheel.
My heart is beating frantically in my chest. I just kissed River. Oh my god.
“Shut up,” River hisses as he marches over to the car, his sneakers splashing in the puddles.
I inhale and exhale to steady my heart before pushing away from the wall and approaching the car.
Stay cool, Maddy. No need to flip out over a brief kiss with a guy. You’ve kissed guys before. This is no big deal.
Except River is a Royal and he’s betrothed.
Ugh, I’m so dumb.
“Okay, brother,” Finn replies with amusement ringing in his tone.
River is rippling with irritation as he yanks the passenger door open, flips the seat forward, and climbs into the back.
“I’m okay with sitting in the back,” I tell him as rain drips over me.
Shaking his head, he readjusts the passenger seat for me. “Sit in the front. It’s more comfortable.”
I want to argue that he’s bigger and the front has more room, but my clothes are already getting soaked from the rain again, so I dive in and hurriedly close the door.
Finn cranks up the heat then turns the wheel and steers onto the road. He’s wearing the same T-shirt and shorts I saw him in earlier, and the cab sort of smells like sweat, an indicator he came here straight from football practice.
I cringe as water drips off my hair and onto his nice leather seats. “I’m sorry I’m getting your seat all wet.”
“It’s fine,” Finn tells me like it’s no big deal that the water might ruin the leather. It could very well not be a big deal to him either. I still feel bad.
“I’ll wipe it up when we get back to the school.” I extend my hand for my seat belt as he speeds toward the hills where the Royal Academy is located.
Finn lets out a laugh as he turns on some music. “Don’t be ridiculous. I’m not going to have you clean out my car. That’s what detail service is for.”
Right. Why would he want me to clean out his car when he can pay someone to polish it up all nice for him?
Once again, the reality of this world smacks me across the face.
I turn my head and stare out the window, watching the rain pour down against the streets and splatter against the pavement.
“I like your ink,” Finn comments after a few streams of lyrics play.
I lift a brow at him. “Do you like it because you hardly ever see ink or because you actually like it?”
“So damn feisty,” he murmurs with a ghost of a smile. He thrums his fingers to the song’s rhythm as his gaze skims along the lines inking my thigh. “I like it because it’s nice work.”
“Finn’s a closet artist,” River explains from the back seat. He’s leaning back with his arms tucked underneath his head.
I wonder if he’s thinking about how we just kissed? Or has he kissed so much that kissing is an afterthought? I don’t know… Lily made it sound like he didn’t kiss a lot.
“I think, in another life, he’d try to make it as a tattoo artist,” River adds.
“What the hell, bro?” Finn blasts River with a half-joking glare. “Since when do you spill my secrets? That’s more of my thing.”
River blinks his gaze from the window. “Sorry, I zoned out and went on auto-pilot.”
“I won’t tell anyone.” Although, it doesn’t make much sense to me why this is a huge secret. “Why does it even matter, anyway? And if you want to be one, why not just be one?”
“Because of responsibilities.” He pulls a face as he returns his focus to the road. “Being a tattoo artist isn’t an acceptable career.”
“Why? There’s some out there who are super talented and make bank.” From the corner of my eye, I note an older car that’s been modified but still looks oddly out of place for the glitzy streets of Royal City.
“It doesn’t matter if I make bank or not.” Finn shifts gears as he slows to a stop for a red light, and the older car comes to a stop, too. “What matters is that society sees me as something important, like a lawyer or CEO.” He sounds miserable as he speaks.
And I think I’m getting the gist. Apparently, on top of the Averson family forcing their oldest to marry the person of their choosing, they also force them into a certain career.
“Do you draw?” I wonder, rotating in the seat to face him.