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“Not to mention annoying,” Angel adds.
I smile so hugely it feels like my cheeks with sprain. I’ve seen this in movies, brothers finding their sisters annoying. And now it’s happening to me. In real life. Wait, is that something I should be excited about?
“But we do need to walk this way first. There’s something… Wait, hold on.” He turns away to type something into his phone, and Angel shepherds me to the right, where—
I stop short, freezing in place.
It can’t be, I’m imagining it.
He’s here.
Getting off a plane with the royal crest on its side, walking down the steps as if it’s the most normal thing in the world, dark glasses covering those brilliant eyes, his tawny head covered with a baseball cap…
Is Marco.
…
I cover my mouth with my hands and double over, emotions strong gripping me by the throat. The emotions are so strong they overwhelm me. I can’t breathe.
It’s my stupid brothers, I think vaguely as I struggle to draw in air,it’s all their fault.They planned this, didn’t they? But why did they have to keep this a surprise? Seeing him here, in the flesh, after months apart, was the last thing I expected, and the joy of it sends me to my knees.
Marco sees me fall, and he drops his bags and sprints towards me. He reaches me with lightning speed, before any of my bodyguards or brothers have time to even react.
“Liv,” he murmurs, pressing my cheek into his chest. “Liv. I’m here. I’m here. I’m real.”
I bury my head in his neck and he lifts me off my feet. He smells like the only true home I’ve ever known. I run my hands around the sharp contours of his face, and I feel the light stubble of his jaw on my fingertips. My hands drop to his waist and I grab the hooks of his belt to steady myself as I wrap my legs around his waist.
“Baby,” Marco breathes against my hair. The familiar rumble grounds me, proves that he’s real. But I still can’t believe it.
“Heaven,” I whisper back. “You are heaven.”
He laughs, a deep, throaty laugh. “If you think this is heaven, you have seen nothing yet, baby,” he says. “And right back at you.”
And then Angel clears his throat super loudly behind us, and ruins the moment.
…
Six hours later, I am sandwiched between Marco and Hector, with Angel standing on Hector’s other side, as we wait for Issy Woo to come on stage. I inhale, relishing the feeling of being completely safe. I don’t even care that we’re surrounded by bodyguards. This. These guys are my safety net, in more ways than one.
Marco wraps his arm around my waist and pulls me against his shoulder. My head is spinning with the rush of emotions and happiness, and even though we stopped on the way to eat multiple times—the endless need for food being a side-effect of having brothers that I had not foreseen—I couldn’t tell you what I’ve eaten.
I’ve barely been able to concentrate on anything else but Marco this whole time.
The opening artist is finally done with her set, and the first music notes of Issy Woo’s delicious songs drift in the air. The crowd goes wild.
Marco’s arm tightens around me instinctively. I smile up at him. I don’t scream—well, not on the outside, anyway. Hector told my security not to let anyone take pictures of me, but I don’t care if anyone is looking.
I intend to enjoy myself thoroughly tonight. I will sing and I will laugh and I will cheer. And I may not be screaming right now, but I promised myself before I got here that I will have one more normal experience to add to my life. So, if I scream, I scream.
Here we go.
For the first time since his plane landed, I focus my attention on a different guy than Marco: the prince of pop, Issy Woo. I listen to how he sings from his soul, his heart being torn to pieces, and it resonates with me deeply. At some point, he says into the mic, in front of the entire stadium, that he loves a girl. I wonder who it is.
But more than that, I wonder how he found the courage to be so real and so vulnerable in front of these crowds.
I wonder what it takes to be a prince.
He is a different kind of royalty than me, of course, but there are similarities.
