The Kingmaker (All the King's Men, #1)(25)

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12





Lennix





“This,” Kimba says, tipping her head back as our tour boat cuts through the canal and under the arch of a bridge, “is the life.”

Kimba, Viv, and I sit at the far end of the sloop. The guide, or skipper as he suggested we call him, stands at the other. A hostess checks on us, ensuring we’re still plied with Mo?t, gin, Perrier, heavy hors d’oeuvres, and sandwiches I can barely get my hand around.

“Agreed,” Viv slurs, half-drowsy, half-drunk on cocktails and sunshine, “I’m so glad we chose Amsterdam for our last hurrah.”

Last hurrah because when we get back to Arizona, we finish the little that’s left of our final semester and real life begins.

I push away all thoughts of the decisions I still have to make about my next steps. I don’t want to think any further into the future than tonight. A slow, secret smile pushes the corners of my mouth. Why think of the future when the present holds Maxim Kingsman? A literal sigh slips past my lips at the thought of him. What’s next? A dead swoon?

“All that sighing and grinning happening over there . . .” Kimba waves a finger at me like it’s a wand. “. . . means it must have been good last night with the doctor.”

I try to control my smile, but it just keeps getting bigger. I cover it as much as I can by taking a long sip of my jenever, which really is quite growing on me. Kimba and Viv have been asking about last night, and I’ve only given them crumbs so far, holding the details close.

“Yeah, he’s great,” I downplay, because I could stand up in this boat and fire off about thirty superlatives for that man and his hands and his lips and those kisses from last night.

But restraint.

“What are you wearing on your date tonight?” Vivienne singsongs teasingly.

“I don’t know.” I look from one to the other, not wanting to abandon my friends, but wanting to see Maxim. “You guys sure you’re okay with me going?”

“Oh, honey, we’ve spent the whole day together,” Kimba says. “Besides, David buzzed ya girl. I was going to ask if I might be excused anyway for some one-on-one with him.”

“Nice. You got my go for it vote.” I turn to Vivienne. “And you, Viv? I don’t want to leave you on your own.”

“I’ll be fine,” Vivienne says. “Aya and I are having dinner with her family tonight.”

“So is tonight the night?” Kimba eyes me over the rim of her glass. “Do we need to have the talk before it goes down?”

My uninhibited peal of laugher takes me by surprise. God, where’d this happiness come from? It feels good to be happy about something. Truly giddy, which is how Maxim’s kisses and his touch and his words, his company make me feel. And to feel certain about something. For weeks I’ve circled my future warily, unsure of what I’ll do next. I’m pretty sure tonight, I’ll do Maxim.

“I think it’s tonight, yeah,” I admit. “But I’m good on the talk. Just because I haven’t used the equipment doesn’t mean I haven’t read the manual or played with the knobs.”

Kimba cackles and runs a hand over her closely cropped golden brown hair. “Yes, those knobs have gotten me through this drought, but I think I may give David the controls tonight.”

“What time are you meeting Maxim?” Vivienne asks, still grinning over Kimba’s comment.

“Uh, I’m not sure. He said he would text me, but of course . . . ” I roll my eyes. “I left my phone in the room.”

“I know. Sorry, girl. We’ll be back soon,” Kimba assures me and bites into a lime wedge.

“I was listening to yet another voice mail from my dad when I was brushing my teeth. I think I left it at the sink.”

When we dock and deboard, I force a leisurely pace to match Viv and Kimba’s, but I want to run, find my phone, and see if Maxim tried to call or text. We’re still talking about the art we saw at the Van Gogh Museum and the gorgeous country hillside from the bike tour when we reach our hostel. Maxim sits on a low stone wall across from the building, reading a book and looking delectable in aviator sunglasses.

God, save me from this man in aviators.

“Well so much for thinking he’d be deterred by a lost phone,” Vivienne murmurs with a smile. “Right here waiting for you.”

I send them a gleeful look before walking a little ahead to approach him. He seems completely absorbed in whatever he’s reading.

“Hi,” I say once I’m standing right in front of him.

His smile packs a rush of adrenaline, a needle plunged right through my heart, deploying blood and endorphins and electricity to all my vital parts. “Hi. Hope it’s okay that I just showed up. I called, but—”

“Sorry. I left my phone. And of course, it’s okay.”

He glances past me and offers another smile, this one more polite, less familiar. “Hey, Kimba, Vivienne. You guys have fun today?”

“Yup, so much fun,” Kimba says, already turning toward the hostel’s entrance. “See you upstairs, Lenn.”

“It was great,” Vivienne replies, right behind Kimba, both rushing to leave us alone. “We went to the Van Gogh and rode bikes, and took a canal ride.”