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Well, I know how I’m supposed to act.
I’m just not sure if I can act that way.
If I can be around her and resist the urge to wrap her in my arms and kiss her.
If I can resist the urge to break every single bone in Jameson’s hand when he touches her.
“How long will you be gone?” Adam crosses his arms in front of his chest, his biceps stretching his black t-shirt, his physique as fit as mine.
“Why?” I lean against my car, mirroring his posture. “Are you going to water my plants for me?” I chide.
“I’m just curious. According to Her Highness’ private secretary, she cleared her schedule through the end of the month.”
“Which is ten days. I postponed my induction date so I could spend some time with Anderson—”
“Gabriel,” Adam corrects, as much a stickler for the rules and protocol as my father.
While I endeavor to adhere to the rules myself, something that was ingrained into me even before I enlisted, I still struggle with referring to my friend as his given name. What will be his regnal name once he’s coronated.
He went by Anderson before his life changed and he jumped from seventh in line to second, then first. And he still prefers to go by Anderson, since his father is Gabriel. Until I’m under an obligation to refer to him as Gabriel, I’ll call my friend the name he prefers.
Because he’s still my friend, royal bloodline be damned.
“That’s what I’m doing,” I continue, ignoring my brother. “I’m heading to the coast to spend some time with him.”
“And his sister.”
Brows furrowed, I study Adam, wondering what he’s getting at. Why did he specifically bring up Esme when several other people will also be there?
“Yes.” I straighten my spine, arms dropping to my side. “And his sister.”
“Are you sure this is a good idea?” He narrows his dark eyes on me.
My mouth grows dry, a nervous fluttering in my stomach. I keep my gaze trained on him, not wanting him to notice a single hint of trepidation.
“Why wouldn’t it be?”
Uncrossing his arms, he steps toward me. “I see the way you look at her, Creed,” he whispers.
“Who?”
“Don’t play dumb. You’ve had a thing for the Princess Royal for years.”
“I haven’t seen her in years,” I argue in my defense. “Not until a few weeks ago.”
“I saw the way you looked at her when you were younger.”
“I was a horny teenager. I looked at anything with boobs like I wanted to hump them.”
“And I see the way you look at her now, too.”
“I’ve barely seen her since she got back,” I scoff, averting my eyes so he can’t peel away the lies and reveal the truth hidden underneath it all.
Did one of the guards at Gladwell notice me leave in the early hours of the morning and tell my brother? If that were the case, Adam would have brought it up the second he learned about it. He wouldn’t beat around the bush like this.
Hell, if that were the case, I would have already received an earful from Anderson.
Instead, my friend all but coerced me to come to the beach with him for the next ten days, where I’ll have no choice but to live under the same roof as Esme and Jameson.
