by Piper Rayne
Declan: You have ten minutes.
Declan: Ten minutes are up.
Declan: I’m calling Jean.
Jean: Adrian? Come on. Not again.
Jean: Sooner or later we’ll find you. You’re the prince. You can’t hide forever.
I scroll farther into the night after Declan had no choice but to call my mom.
Mom: You cannot ditch security.
Felicia: Seriously Adrian, grow the fuck up.
Mom: What if something happens? People are crazy. Declan is frantically searching for you.
Rowan: Mom’s crying. Something bad happened. Wanna play Xbox?
Dad: Your mother called. This adolescent behavior has to stop. Call Declan to pick you up NOW.
Mom: Please sweetie. Don’t be upset about me contacting Dad, I’m worried and have no idea what to do.
Felicia: I need you and this isn’t about you going rogue on security.
Mom: You were tagged. Declan’s coming now.
Declan: Where did you go? I know you were at this bar. Stop running.
Jean: There’s a hold on all your credit cards. Good luck going anywhere.
Ha! Little did Jean know I had more than enough cash for a typical night out.
There’s silence through the rest of the night, and this morning, there’s only one text from my mom.
Mom: I love you and I know you love me. Please don’t make me worry. It’s time to call now, sweetie. It’s time to stop hiding.
I leave the pastries and coffees on a small table and go into the small hotel store, picking out a shirt and shorts for Sierra and me. Once I’m done, I sit in the chair away from any prying ears and dial my mother, prepared for her wrath.
“Adrian,” she says, sighing.
“I just wanted one night,” I grumble.
“I know, but when is it going to stop? When will it be enough? Declan is beside himself. Jean blames Declan. Felicia is doing everything she can to keep everything out of the press.”
I sigh and pinch the bridge of my nose, my head down.
“Your father is here, I’m putting you on speaker.”
I roll my eyes and pull my leg up to rest on my knee. This should be good. Him lecturing me on proper behavior.
“Adrian, I demand you return home right now.”
“Yeah, thanks, but I don’t think so.”
“This is not a choice. I am prepared to cut you off. You think because you had a few hundred bucks to mess around with in New York City that you have any idea what it’s like to not have the privilege this life offers you? Maybe it would do you some good to learn how blessed you are in this life you hate so much.”
His authoritative voice doesn’t make me want to comply. Not after he’s the one who ruined our family.
My phone dings and I look to see Felicia is calling.
“I’ll call you right back,” I say.
“We need to talk—”
I cut my dad off and click over to Felicia. “Yeah, yeah, save the lecture.”
“We have bigger problems than you acting like a runaway child. A reporter has figured out what’s going on. I’m not sure if Dad’s friend talked or not, but they want money to keep quiet.”
My head rolls across the back of the seat. “It’s going to come out.”
“I’m doing everything I can, but you know if it comes out and they get a divorce… you know what that means, right?”
I might hate my life, but I know the royal rules that govern my birthplace. If my parents get divorced, I’m to marry immediately and take the throne. Only a king and a queen may serve.
“Yeah, I know.”
“It means you’d have to marry Princess Adelaide.”
Aggravation gnaws at my insides. “I know.”
“You have to stop running away.”
“I don’t want to marry her. Look what happened to Mom and Dad. He cheated because he married a woman he didn’t love.”
“They love each other.”
Felicia is a glass-half-full person, where I always see the glass as half empty.
“Like a brother and sister and still he could do that to her.” I’m angry enough without having to see my dad with someone else. I can’t imagine how Felicia does it, having seen it in person.
“I know. But rules are rules.”
“For being such a tough bitch, you sure sit back and let the rules from centuries ago stick it to you.”
She scoffs. “Don’t take it out on me. It’s not my fault I don’t have a dick.”
Felicia was born first, and out of the three of us, she’s the only one who can’t rule, even if she is the most suited.
“It’s time to come home now. I gave you your night without cameras.”
I tap my fingers on my ankle, staring at the two coffees and bag of pastries. The bag of his and hers I Heart New York T-shirts. “I’m not ready yet.”
“I don’t care.”
“I’m going to call Mom and arrange a deal.”
“Adrian? This is ridiculous. Just come home.”
“I love you.” I hang up and dial my mom back, but of course my dad picks up.
“Adrian, you do not hang up on us—”
I cut him off before he gets a chance to launch his lecture. “I’ll come home and marry Princess Adelaide on one condition.”
“No.”
“What is it, sweetie?” my mom asks, always the one to give in to us. I think she secretly wanted to live a normal life before marrying a prince.
“We are not adhering to his demands,” he says to my mom. “You are to contact Declan to alert him of your whereabouts and then you are to come home.”
“I want two months. Two months.”
“You’re supposed to meet Princess Adelaide and her parents in a month. It’s all been arranged. A short courtship and a quick wedding,” my mom says.
The thought nauseates me, but I’ll do it if they’ll give me this time to just be myself, figure out who that really is.
“I want two months. You two need to look happy and get that woman to keep her mouth shut. If I’m going to sacrifice my entire life to rule Sandsal and marry a woman I don’t know, then you can do it for two months.”
Silence is all I hear from the other side of the phone.
I watch as a happy couple leaves the hotel, the man carrying a large garment bag. Their shirts are inscribed with bride and groom in white cursive letters and their smiles could brighten all of Brooklyn. Jealousy knifes me in the heart.
I hear my parents talking in low murmurs, my dad’s seething voice a little louder than my mom’s.
“Okay,” my mom says.
My dad intervenes quickly. “Two months. But you’re cut off. Whatever money you have with you is all you’ve got from us. You do not have Declan or Jean. If you really want to do this, you’re on your own.”
As shallow as it sounds, I hadn’t really thought about that part of it, but he’s right. If I want to experience a life without the handcuffs my privileged life stifles me with, I can’t have the gains of it either. “Fine.”
“Where will you live?” my mom asks.
“I’ll figure that out and be in touch.”
“In two months, you are to return home and I never want one of these disappearing acts to happen again, is that understood? You come home, marry Princess Adelaide, and rule this country without any argument.”
“I will.” Elation wars with my acceptance of my eventual fate.
“I hope you find whatever it is you’re looking for before you come home,” my mom says.
“Thanks, Mom.”
She sighs but doesn’t say anything.
“Don’t call us if you embarrass the family and end up in jail,” my dad chimes in.
“I think you’ve embarrassed the family enough for all of us.” The nerve of that bastard.
“Okay, you two, enough. Adrian, make sure you check in with us once a week. We love you.”
“Love you, Mom.” I click the phone off and sit
in the chair for a moment. Did they really agree to allow me two months to live in the United States and do whatever I want?
I pick up the coffees and bags and head to the elevators. I guess I don’t have to cut my time with Sierra short after all. As I ride the elevator to the fifth floor, I realize if I’m cut off and I don’t have a job, I have no money for an apartment. But I can be inventive. I must have something to offer someone.
Using the keycard, the door lock flashes green and I open the door as quietly as I can, but when I hear the television, I figure she’s up. Walking into the room, I find Sierra still naked under the sheets, watching some reality television show.
“Good morning, beautiful,” I say, holding out the coffee tray.
“I thought you left. You know, duty called.” She tries to throw it out as a joke, even masks her face as if she couldn’t care less, but I see her red-rimmed eyes.
I should’ve left a note.
“No, and actually…” I grab my coffee, toeing out of my shoes, and hop onto the bed next to her. The mattress bounces and Sierra rises, clinging to her coffee to avoid spillage before we both settle back down. “I got pastries and an outfit for you.”
She eyes my suit. “You went out like that?”
I nod.
“Any pictures?”
“Not that I saw. What prince walks around in a wrinkled suit?”
“One doing the walk of shame.”
I shrug. She has a point. “In essence, as of this morning, I’ve been stripped of my title.”
Her eyes bug out of her head. “Because of last night? I’m so sorry. Do you want me to talk to someone? I could totally say I was sick, or I kidnapped you.”
I laugh and shake my head. I appreciate that she’d go to such lengths for me. “I asked for two months of freedom to do what I want, and my parents granted it.”
“Really?” Her jaw is slack as she stares at me.
I nod. “I was thinking on my way up here… you said your roommate is leaving, right?”
This could be a horrible idea because I might spend my two months screwing Sierra because the sex was so good and never getting around to the finding myself part.
“Yeah. She’s moving out today.”
“Do you have another roommate lined up yet?”
She tilts her head as though she’s following but doesn’t believe I’m actually going to ask her. “No…”
“Want one?” I hold out my arms.
Her eyebrows shoot up to her hairline. “You?”
I chuckle. “Yes, me. The problem is my parents cut me off, so I was thinking that maybe I can swap a room for an exclusive interview? The only thing is, you can’t run the interview until after I return home.”
Her shoulders fall and she places her coffee on the nightstand. “You’re serious?”
“Yep.”
“You remember I don’t even live in the city, right?”
I run my finger over the bedsheet along her thigh. “The way you talked about Cliffton Heights last night, and your friends? That’s what I want.”
She takes a moment to think it over and I worry she’s going to deny me. Although we learned a lot about one another last night, I still don’t know her well and I’m pretty much asking to move in with her.
“Okay.” She nods. “But I want the interview. It’ll help propel my career.”
I take my finger and cross my heart. “Promise.”
She laughs. “Be careful what you wish for, that’s all I have to say.”
I toss the bag of pastries onto the nightstand with our coffees, roll on top of her, and we spend the next two hours in bed before reality sets in and I find out that for normal folks, check-out times aren’t merely a suggestion.
Chapter Nine
Sierra
* * *
We’re wearing matching I Heart New York T-shirts and shorts like a couple of tourists. Luckily when we went back down to the store they had flip-flops for me, but poor Adrian has to wear his dress shoes.
His phone dings, pulling my eyes away from the rolling green landscape outside the train window.
“Jean said my luggage is being delivered to your place later today by carrier.”
“It’ll probably get there before us what with the whole royalty thing. You going to miss it?”
“I don’t think so. I’m going to cut my hair and grow a beard with the hope that anyone who does follow me won’t recognize me.”
I run my fingers through his shoulder-length hair. “I love your hair.”
“You loved gripping it last night when my face was between your thighs, that’s for sure.” He chuckles.
I love his laugh. It’s so real and authentic and true.
I could pinch myself right now. How did I go from winning a date to now living with him? Though he says he’s no longer a prince, he still is. Giving up your royal obligations for two months to play house isn’t like abdicating altogether.
“So Rian is the other roommate. You think she’ll be okay with me staying there?”
I laugh. Rian won’t know what to do with him, but they both have easygoing personalities.
“She’s a math textbook writer and she loves baking, so you might put on some pounds during your stay with us.” I pat his stomach and he laughs, not taking my hand.
Actually, since we left the hotel, he hasn’t shown me any affection at all. Where do we stand for these next two months? Do I even want to get attached to someone, knowing ahead of time there’s a ticking clock on our time together?
“That’s an interesting job. I was great at calculus. Maybe I’ll have her test me.” He gets lost in thought for a moment. “And the others? The guys who live across the hall?”
He’s been quizzing me ever since we agreed he was going to live with us.
“Dylan owns the tattoo shop across the street from the apartment. Seth is a photographer still working his way up, so he takes boudoir pictures right now.”
“Like glamour shots?”
“More like lingerie-clad sexy pictures.”
“Of women?”
I laugh. “Yeah.”
“Lucky man.” He waggles his eyebrows.
“He doesn’t think so. He aspires to be well-known in other areas of photography. And then Knox is a police officer.”
“And tell me about your best friend?”
I’d almost forgotten about her. I’ll see her with Ethan every day, down the hall. Adrian will make that more bearable though.
“Blanca and Ethan, they’re journalists and work at the same magazine. Write articles on opposing views of one another.”
He nods. “Cool.”
“I guess. Ethan has a lot of stuff, so maybe I can have her leave her bedroom stuff for you.”
I pull my phone out and dial her, but she doesn’t answer. She’s probably busy with the move. But I’m sure it won’t be a problem.
The train stops in Cliffton Heights and we descend the stairs, Adrian looking around as if he’s in Disneyland.
“It’s just a small city.”
“I love it.”
“It’s not New York,” I remind him for the millionth time.
“I know. Stop being so nervous. This was my decision.” He knocks shoulders with me.
“Well, come on.” I nod in the direction of the Rooftop Apartments.
He soaks it all in, pointing and asking questions about each store and restaurant, commenting about how he needs to go to the drug store to grab some toiletries. He wasn’t even this excited last night when we ditched his security.
“Thanks, Sierra,” he says as I put the key into the lock of my apartment building.
“You’re welcome.” I smile.
His fingers land on my ribcage, tickling me while we walk toward the elevator. The doors open immediately, and we file in, his hands slowing and moving along my body. He crowds me into the corner and his mouth draws closer to me, his lips meeting mine and his tongue sliding into my mouth. This feels so right, but the tw
o-month timeline rings in my head like a warning bell, ruining the kiss.
As though he can hear my musings, his body presses harder, his lips firmer, his tongue faster as though he’s trying to push that thought from my head. The doors open and we part, walking out of the elevator hand in hand.
The Mancini crew lingers between Blanca’s new apartment and mine. I peek into my apartment, not seeing Ethan and Blanca, so I leave Adrian there and head down the hall, saying a quick hello to everyone in the hall. I pound on Ethan’s door and he and Blanca groan from the other side. I do not want to know what they were doing because I’m fairly sure it’s what I was doing in the elevator with Adrian.
“What, Sierra?” Blanca asks through the door.
“You’re not taking your bed, right? Mind leaving it for Adrian? Maybe your dresser too?”
Ethan groans and the door swings open. Blanca’s lips are swollen, and Ethan turns his back to adjust himself.
“What?” Blanca’s eyes fly up and down my body, concern in her expression.
“Oh my God.” I step into their apartment and shut the door. There’s something about telling other people that a prince is moving in with us that I find so exciting. Blanca will know what this means to me. “He wants to live with us,” I whisper as if he’s within earshot.
“I’m sorry. Who does?” Blanca whispers back.
“Adrian.” I cannot lose the perma-smile on my face.
“Holy shit! Carm, grab your camera. It’s Prince Adrian Marx!” Bella, Blanca’s soon-to-be sister-in-law yells from the hallway.
“I’m not getting shit. He’s not that great, you know. Running a country isn’t any harder than selling an overpriced penthouse in Manhattan,” Carm, Blanca’s brother, yells back.
Blanca opens the door and walks down the hallway which is now empty. Ethan and I follow, and when we reach my apartment, sure enough, Bella’s mouth is hanging open.
Val, Blanca’s very pregnant sister-in-law, is searching the pantry, uncaring.
Annie, the second almost-sister-in-law, is sitting, watching everything go down with rapt attention.
All the guys are on the couch, watching the football game.
