His Royal Highness(54)
“Isn’t it obvious? You do exactly what you like at all times. Just like you did a moment ago, shooing Carrie away and pushing me toward the ladder. Walking in and out of my life whenever you feel like it. I guess it makes sense why you act this way. Growing up as the heir to this empire, I’m sure you carried a lot of weight on your shoulders. Most men would have buckled under that pressure, but you rose to the occasion. Now, I imagine it’d be impossible to separate the man from the heir.”
She might as well be staring at her fingernails. So confident in her assessment, she’s bored.
“I wasn’t aware we were psychoanalyzing each other. Is it my turn now?”
Chapter Sixteen
Whitney
I aim a smirk his way before replying, “You can try, but I doubt you’ll get it right. Go ahead. Tell me everything you think you know about me.”
I’m faintly aware of Thomas speaking to all of the parade cast with a megaphone. I’m too busy staring Derek down to listen. I don’t think he registers Thomas either. Just as the floats at the very front of the line start to move forward, Derek turns fully toward me.
“Do you remember our conversation in Cal’s kitchen at the dinner party? You claimed you were the passionate one out of the two of us.”
I practically snarl at him. “Yes. I remember. So what?”
He chuckles, and I have to bite my tongue not to call him a bad name just to regain the upper hand.
“Well, you’re wrong. You aren’t passionate. You play at passion. You play make-believe. With your heart, with your job, with your life. You’ve deluded yourself into thinking you put yourself out there, but you’re even more guarded than I am. You don’t love Ryan.”
“I could have! Before last night!” I retort as our float starts to move. I wobble on my feet and he reaches out to steady me. I wrench my arm away from him as soon as I’m sure I won’t fall. Wouldn’t he just love that? Me splat on the concrete.
“Think about it,” he prods, voice sharp and steady.
Just then, our float drives out of the warehouse, turning onto a side street that leads into the park, and the bright Georgia sun blinds me. I clench my eyes closed, listening. In a few moments, we’ll be in front of a roaring crowd. Even now, I can hear the upbeat music blaring from speakers inside the park.
“You say you’re this hopeless romantic, that you fall in love all the time—but you know what I think?” he continues.
I blink my eyes as they adjust to the light, unwilling to look in his direction.
“I don’t really care,” I spit back at him, boiling with anger.
“I think you tell yourself it’s love so you don’t have to consider the fact that it’s the exact opposite. Nothing. Empty crushes. Arm’s-length relationships.”
We’re in the park now and I have no choice but to turn toward him and let him take my hands in his. The animatronic owl perched beside us flips through the pages of an officiant book. And they lived happily ever after is engraved in cursive on the front cover of it. I snort. We’re supposed to be sharing our vows right now, staring adoringly into each other’s eyes, a picture-perfect representation of love. In reality, we’re spitting fire. There’s a sea of people behind Derek’s shoulders, a blur of colors I try to focus on. I can’t. I’m shaking with anger, tempted to push Derek right off this float. Oh, don’t worry—he’d be fine. He’d land on a cloud of adoring fans.
“You’re wrong,” I insist through clenched teeth, staring at the gold buttons on his jacket. “I have had real crushes and I’ve been in love, most definitely.”
“I’m sure you think so. Fudge guy—is that who you love?” His mocking tone makes me fist my hands. Unfortunately, he’s holding on to them. He knows he’s just triggered a reaction. “Ever ask him out? Try to get to know him? Maybe, I don’t know—ask his goddamn name?”
“I was waiting for him to ask me,” I say in an angry whisper.
“Yes, well, I asked you. I asked.”
I finally jerk my gaze up to his, but he’s looking out at the crowd now, scowling. God, we’re doing a horrible job at pretending to be in love. I know we’ll get in trouble for this. We’re ruining the parade for all the guests, but I can’t seem to force myself to get it together. I want to know what he means.
We continue down the road, nearing Castle Drive. In a moment, we’ll pass under the arch of red roses. That’s our cue to kiss. My heart starts to pound hard against my lace bodice. I’m sure he can feel my palms sweating against his.
“You swore you’d give me a clean slate,” he says, sounding defeated, “but you haven’t. You’re still scared of getting hurt again.”
“Oh come on.”
I sound incredulous and finally, he turns his head all the way toward me. For the first time since the start of the parade, we’re looking into each other’s eyes. It feels like he’s gripping me by the back of my neck, keeping my attention on him. It’s visceral, this connection between us.
He bends low, releasing my hands so he can wrap his arms around my waist and tug me close. My hands hit his hard chest and, out of focus, in the background, I spy a thousand blood red roses.