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I glance at Xavier, noticing him shake his head.
While it’s considered a privilege to serve as chief protection officer to the future king, it’s obvious Xavier is over it. Anderson may be heir apparent, but he’s also a twenty-six-year-old soldier about to leave on deployment in a few months. Who will most likely be forced to get married the second his military service is over. I don’t condone him sleeping around. But I can appreciate his frustration with all the hoops he has to jump through to bring a girl home. All things normal people would never have to worry about.
All things I’ve never had to worry about.
“We’ll talk about it tomorrow, Anders. When you’re thinking a bit more clearly. And with your head instead of your dick.”
“But my dick wants her,” he whines.
I pat his shoulder. “And if your dick still wants her tomorrow, we’ll figure it out.”
He groans. “Just once I’d like to meet a hot girl at a bar and be able to bring her home. Not have to get her full name so my security team can run a background check. Sometimes…” He sighs. “Sometimes this life sucks. I mean, look at Esme.”
I whip my eyes toward him. “What do you mean?”
“Oh, come off it, Creed. You know what I’m talking about. You don’t actually think she likes that guy. Do you?”
“They make a beautiful couple.” I maintain an even expression. “I have no doubt they’ll be quite happy.”
While I may be aware of the circumstances surrounding her relationship with Jameson, they do seem content. At least they did in the clip I couldn’t stop watching earlier.
Do I think there’s a connection there?
I don’t want there to be. Don’t want anyone else to possess her heart, even though I’ll never be allowed to possess it, either.
“Happy,” he scoffs. “Happiness in this life is an illusion. Something we make the masses believe so they don’t see the truth.”
His candor surprises me. He’s typically a happy drunk.
Perhaps he’s held it in for long enough and is done masking his frustration with humor.
“What truth is that?”
He brings his gaze to mine just as Xavier pulls up to the security gate outside Gladwell Palace.
“That we’d do anything to be able to make one decision of our own.” He holds my gaze for a beat. “I’d love to go home with a pretty girl without needing permission to fuck her. Just like Esme…” He trails off. “Well, I’m not sure what Esme would like, but she wouldn’t willingly choose to be with Jameson.”
Approaching the building where both Esme’s and Anderson’s individual apartments are housed, Xavier pulls the SUV to a stop and jumps out, rushing to Anderson’s door. I do the same, helping him upright, a feat after all the alcohol he drank in the past twelve hours. If it weren’t for Esme and Jameson’s relationship going viral on social media, I’d be concerned that news of the playboy prince, as Anderson’s been called, partying it up in the city would be headline news.
“I’ll take him in,” I tell Xavier.
“You sure?”
“Yeah. I got this.”
I give Xavier a thankful smile, draping Anderson’s arm over my shoulder as I drag him up the short flight of stairs and press his code into the door. When I hear it click, I open it, helping him into the shared foyer, Esme’s apartment to the right, Anderson’s to the left.
“God, I bloody hate this place,” Anderson groans as I carry him toward his apartment. “It’s a prison. You know that, right? And you... In a few months, you’ll be nothing more than a glorified prison guard.”
I try not to take his comment to heart. I’ve had a front-row seat to how difficult life can be for Anderson and Esme. In twenty-six years, Anderson’s rarely been in a place where someone doesn’t watch his every move.
It’s no wonder he volunteered for another deployment.
At least overseas he can enjoy the freedom he can’t here.
It’s sad he has to go to a war zone to get that.
“Don’t forget. One day, you’ll be in charge and can change how things are.”
