Just Pretending

by Leah Rooper

  Either way, I’m totally screwed.

  Eva jumps off of me and we scramble to our feet.

  “Daniel!” Eva screams and throws up her arms around herself. “Madison!”

  For the love of everything holy.

  It’s Daniel fucking Sacachelli.

  I turn to face the back wall. Screwed, I’m so totally screwed. I’m dead. Deader than dead. Daniel is going to throw me off this tower, and I’ll have the whole way down to contemplate what an idiot I am. But not before he outs me to Eva.

  Eva can’t find out this way. I have to be the one to tell her.

  I look down at my hands, still dripping in red paint. I hear Daniel’s heavy steps getting closer.

  I look down at my hands again, dripping in squishy paint. Then I slam my hands over my face and drag the paint back through my hair.

  I stop and think for a minute. Shit, covering myself in paint is not going to work. There’s no way Daniel won’t recognize me. My gaze fixes on a cluster of easels in the corner. I can hide behind those! Without a thought, I move, like I’m lunging for the puck. But my feet slip on the paint-soaked floor and I crash into the easels with a giant bang.

  “Are you all right?” Eva cries.

  I give her a paint-covered thumbs-up from the pile of easels, thankful for the cover they provide me. Just in time, as Daniel marches into the room

  “For Christ’s sake, Eva,” Daniel growls. “Take my jacket.” Daniel shoves it into Eva’s arms.

  “What are you doing here?” she snarls at him.

  “I was dropping off my papers for the new scholarship fund,” Daniel mutters. “We heard a commotion up here… I thought I’d find robbers! Instead, I find you here, gallivanting with…with…who the fuck is that?”

  I turn my head deeper into my piles of wooden easels, hoping the paint and clutter is enough to disguise me. But who am I kidding? I’ve known Daniel for years. There no way he’s not going to recognize his best friend.

  “Why, it’s Prince Tiberius!” Madison cries, arms gesturing to me.

  Daniel crosses his arms and huffs to the entrance. “Of course, it’s fucking Tiberius!”

  Madison grabs his arm and starts to lead him out of the art studio, telling Eva, “Why don’t we meet you back at the castle?”

  Daniel shoots us one last fiery glare before being dragged out by Madison. Thank the heavens and the stars for that girl. I can’t believe I’m lucky enough that she’s still keeping my secret.

  I crawl out of my easel prison and look over at Eva, my face burning. But she’s just smiling.

  “Well,” she says, “I guess the title of the dallying Harwell child just passed to me.”

  I laugh and pull her toward me. “We should probably give your brother a chance to get back to the castle.”

  She pulls me into a long kiss. “My thoughts exactly.”

  …

  Eva

  I push my shoulders back and walk into the sitting room. I’ve washed the paint from my hair and body. Is it strange that a small part of me misses it? Or maybe I just miss how Tiberius touched my skin. It felt like my body was on fire, melting the ice from my frozen heart.

  But I’m clean now, dressed in a long-sleeve velvet shirt and poufy white skirt. The whole castle is decorated for the Christmas Eve banquet tomorrow. Fir garlands line every banister. Poinsettias overflow the hall tables, and twinkle lights accent every corner. The staff have even hung holly on some of the decorative swords. But there’s one part that’s not completely finished yet—the Christmas tree.

  I can count on one hand the number of Christmases Daniel has spent in Eldonia, but they’ve always been my favorites. And every time he’s been here, we’ve always hung our decorations together.

  I don’t want our awkward encounter at the art studio to ruin our night. I can’t believe he walked in on…whatever that was. I mean, it wasn’t so bad. The bikini I wore to our summer vacation in Monaco showed more skin than I was revealing in the art studio.

  Daniel is setting up the ornaments on a long table. He’s wearing a checkered green sweater, and his hair doesn’t have the usual amount of styling gel.

  “Hello,” I say as I walk over to him.

  Daniel glances at me then turns back to the tree. It’s over twenty feet tall and almost reaches the top of our ceiling. The smell of pine fills the whole room.

  “Look, Eva.” Daniel hangs a snowman on the tree. “I’m sorry I walked in on you and kind of freaked out. I was just not expecting to see you there like that…with him.”

  I grab a fat, plush Santa and hang him on the tree. “I didn’t expect to be there like that, either. This whole thing…since Chicago…it’s been this giant whirlwind!”

  “But really…you and Tiberius?”

  “I know,” I say, my voice breathy. “It’s crazy, right?”

  “Yeah.” Daniel shifts on his feet. “You know, Eva, I spent time with Tiberius three years ago. He really doesn’t have the best reputation.”

  I grab Daniel’s hands. “Neither did you. And look at you now—former king, star hockey player, in a committed relationship. People can change, brother.”

  “I guess.” Daniel drops my hands and turns back to the tree. “So, what exactly is it, then? A Christmas fling?”

  “It’s a…it’s…” My words trail off as I reach for another ornament, a small wooden reindeer. The breath catches in my throat, and I think of the words I wrote on Ty’s arm, of what’s been coursing through me since the first time we painted together. I pick up the reindeer and look at Daniel. “Let me tell you what it is.”

  …

  Tyler

  I turn the gold knob of the shower and let the water cascade over me. Outside the castle’s windows, stars have started to blink to life in the navy sky. I fell asleep as soon as I got back to my room. The paint has dried and cracked along my skin and turned plasticky in my hair.

  I don’t even care. A meteor could be headed toward me right now and I would still be smiling. I tilt my head back, letting the warm water flow over my face, and laugh.

  My whole body shakes with this incredible feeling. I can’t believe that today even happened. I think I could live for a million years and nothing will ever electrify me like Eva’s touch did today.

  I squirt out some shampoo and drag my hands through my hair. Bright lines of paint drip down my neck, along my chest. Colors swirl around the drain.

  I lower my arms, and the curves of some black letters catch my eyes.

  The words Eva wrote me.

  I blink and stare at them. My stomach twists on itself. I had almost forgotten she wrote something. As always, the words are a jumbled mess.

  But I need to see what Eva wrote. I can do this.

  I take a deep breath and concentrate.

  There are three separate words. I stare at each one until they become distinct, until the letters stay in the right spots. Then the words are clear and bright in front of me.

  I can read them.

  The letters shoot through me—the ink sinks into my skin, pulses in my veins, and comes to life.

  I know one thing.

  I need to find her.

  Right now.

  I shut off the water and jump out of the shower. I scramble into my clothes without even drying off and dart out of my room. I’m soaking wet. A spray of soap bubbles and colored water flies off of me as I run down the hall—which I’m sure is poor etiquette in a castle. But I don’t care. I can’t care about anything except the words on my arm.

  I stumbled to a stop in front of her room and give a quick knock. When she doesn’t answer, I throw open the door. “Eva!”

  I scan the room. The balcony door is closed, and a lady-in-waiting is making the bed.

  The girl raises a dark brow at me. “The queen isn’t here.” She must see the fall of my face because she adds, “She’s in the garden. Do you want a towel?” she calls as I careen out of the room. I’m too far gone. I tear down the stairs, ignoring the glances
of the servants and the scoffs of some probably very important people.

  It doesn’t matter.

  They don’t know who I am. They don’t see me.

  But she did. Eva did. And now I need to find her.

  I throw open the doors to the gardens. The cold brush of winter wind whips across my wet body. I stumble into the snow and realize I’m not even wearing shoes. I search the gardens—a layer of fresh snow covers the whole courtyard, and multicolored lights from the castle glisten on its surface.

  But there she is, standing by a frozen fountain. Unlike me, the queen is dressed appropriately for this weather. A hooded red cape with white trim wraps around her shoulders. I hesitate for a minute. This courtyard…this was the first place I ever saw her. I remember the way my heart almost shuddered to a stop when I saw her come out of the castle. I hadn’t known who she was then, but a part of me could tell she would become important in my life. A force that would slam into me and not let go.

  I breathe in a stuttering breath of frigid air and run out into the courtyard. “Evangeline!”

  She turns to me, pulling back her hood. Her dark hair flies free in the wind. “Ty! It’s snowing,” she shouts. Then she moves, running toward me, her red cape blowing out behind her.

  We crash into each other, and I grab her around the waist. Her hands run through my soaking hair, over my face, still caked with paint. “Ty, why are you out here? It’s snowing. Where are your shoes? Are you crazy?”

  “I read what you wrote.”

  She lets out a breath, and her hands fall to my shoulders. I savor the moment, let it beat between us, and just look at her—the soft snowflakes that land on her dark hair, the promise of a smile on her lips.

  I put my thumb under her chin and tilt her gaze up to meet mine. “I saw it, Evangeline,” I say. “I saw all the letters, and I read them. And I didn’t just read them. I felt them, and I love you, too. I could read them all, and did I say I love you? Because I do. I love you.”

  She blinks. A soft spill of tears falls from her lashes and tumbles down her cheeks. Her hand glides down my arm, and she tilts my wrist, so we can see the words. They are drooping and fading into each other.

  Three little words.

  And I can read each one.

  I love you.

  “I’m so happy,” she says, her voice soft. “And I just want you to kiss me. But I’m also really worried about you being out here in the cold.”

  “I’m used to the cold.” I pull her against me. “You should be more worried about me getting paint on you.”

  She draws her hands up along my face, through my wet hair. “I don’t mind.”

  “You’ve woken something up inside me, Eva, and I’m pretty sure nothing in my life is ever going to be the same again.”

  The lights from the castle cast a plethora of colors over her skin—blue and red and yellow and green. I can feel her heart through my wet shirt, beating wildly.

  “I love you.” Her lips brush against mine. “Ty.”

  Ty… One more sound, and then it’d be me. The real me. Tyler. I love you, Tyler.

  I can’t bring myself to kiss her; there’s a refrain going through my mind, screaming, Tell her, tell her, tell her. Wasn’t that the deal? This was the plan—one week to show her who I really am. Haven’t I done that?

  Her lips move to my ear and she whispers, “This is the best day of my life.”

  The thought crumbles around me. I clasp my hands in her cape and pull her tighter against me. “Eva,” I say, grasping for some truth I can tell her. “For once in my life, I have everything I’ve ever wanted.”

  She looks up at me, the smile on her face dazzling. Her fingers clench in my shirt as she pulls me in for a kiss.

  But it’s like the kiss turns to ash on my mouth, as my words replay in my mind.

  I have everything I’ve ever wanted. I thought it was the truth, but it’s not. It’s the biggest lie of them all.

  Eva pulls away, and it’s like I can see her disappearing before me.

  Prince Tiberius has everything I’ve ever wanted.

  Tyler Evans has nothing.

  Chapter Ten

  Tyler

  I take a deep breath before I enter the banquet hall. Thankfully, Eldredge, Daniel’s butler, came and visited my room an hour ago with a tux I could borrow. In a suit like this with my hair gelled back, I’ve never felt more like Prince Tiberius.

  But my stomach is in knots.

  Today is Evangeline’s big Christmas Eve banquet. Thankfully, Madison assured me Eva will be so busy running around organizing everything that she won’t have time to talk to me or the real Prince Tiberius. I’m sure he’ll be at the bar all night… if he shows up at all.

  I should have told her last night. I should have told her as she dragged me back into the castle. I should have told her in between the kisses she planted on my face while making me promise to get warmed up. But I knew if I had told her, that smile—that bright, warm, wonderful smile—would drop from her face. And nothing I could do would ever replace it.

  When I first started all this, I did it because I wanted to feel special, to have Eva see me for once. But after sending all those emails, after spending this amazing week with her, I’m getting the feeling that maybe Eva needs Prince Tiberius just as much as I do. And when she finds out the truth—that there is no Prince Tiberius (besides the lime-green suit wearing, flip-flop losing Casanova)—we both lose.

  My heart palpitates as I stare inside the banquet hall. I catch a glimpse of the queen, mingling with all her guests. She’s the true picture of royalty, wearing a long, red satin gown, with a train that glimmers behind her. If I were to paint this, she’d be the only color in the whole room.

  I can’t do this. I can’t go in there.

  Quickly, I turn and head down the hallway, away from the banquet hall. Something hard slaps my back. I turn to see Daniel’s beaming face. “Hey, man, glad to see you’re feeling better!”

  Right. “Tyler” has been sick the last few days. As far as Daniel’s concerned, I’ve been bedridden, not off galivanting through the woods in a sleigh or painting on his little sister’s half-naked body.

  Daniel walks backward down the hall. “Actually, you don’t look so good. Are you gonna throw up?”

  I put my head down and walk faster. “I just need some air.”

  “Don’t worry, bud. If you don’t make it, just use one of those.” Daniel points to one of the priceless vases on display. “I’ve done it before, after staying too long at ol’ Oak’s Tavern. They’re a lifesaver.”

  “Please stop talking.” I walk faster now. I need to get away from Daniel, from Eva, from Tiberius, from this whole damn thing.

  Daniel narrows his eyes. “Wait…what’s that in your hair?” He reaches forward and grabs one of my longer curls.

  A strand of my blond hair is covered in red paint. Shit, I must have missed that part in the shower!

  “Is this…” Daniel says slowly, staring at it. “Tyler…how could you?”

  “Dan, I can explain—”

  “You know you shouldn’t be eating spaghetti when you’re just getting over the stomach flu!” Daniel’s face bursts into a chiding grin, and he waggles his finger at me. “You know my spaghetti sits like a rock, dude! At least it’s good you’ve got your appetite back.”

  I resist the urge to smack my face as hard as I can with my palm.

  “Don’t worry,” Daniel says, slinging an arm over my shoulders. “We’ll get you to the bathroom and you can let it all out.”

  I pull away from him. “Daniel, stop.” There’s an urgency to my words, a power I’ve never used with Daniel before. “I told you I need air.”

  Daniel takes a step away and runs a sheepish hand over his neck. “Sorry, dude, I just wanted to look out for you—”

  “You don’t need to look out for everyone,” I snap, my words harsher than I intend. “People can go to the bathroom on their own! They can make their own decisions! They ca
n decide who they want to date without you controlling it!”

  Daniel’s body tenses and his eyes grow dark, focused. “What are you talking about?”

  I sigh. What am I doing? Daniel is my best friend. More than that. He’s picked me up every time I’ve fallen, protected me on and off the ice, driven me home on the back of his motorcycle after practices. He stood beside me when I visited my mother’s grave and never said a word when the tears began to fall.

  He’s a brother to me. And that means he deserves to know the truth.

  “Daniel,” I say, fighting the nausea roiling inside me, “I have to tell you something.”

  Just then, a tinkling laugh sounds down the hallway, clear as one of the snowflake ornaments on the tree. A man’s voice—half-laugh, half-moan—follows. Daniel and I eye each other, then we both peer around the corner to the next hallway.

  I can only tell who it is by the flowing brown locks. Prince Tiberius is pressed up against one of the staff—who, I can’t help but notice, is not the same girl I saw him with two nights ago—and has his tongue firmly planted down her throat.

  The pair doesn’t even seem to notice they have an audience.

  Daniel stares slack-jawed. My breathing quickens. This is okay, this is okay. There’s no reason for Daniel to be alarmed—I’m sure he’s seen Prince Tiberius with his hands on the derrieres of many a maid. But for some reason, Daniel looks like someone has just lit a bomb beneath his skin.

  “Tiberius?” Daniel snarls. “What the hell are you doing?”

  Tiberius slowly tears his lips away from the maid’s, his lazy eyes taking far too long to register Daniel. When he recognizes him, he releases his newest conquest—basically dropping her to the ground—and wraps his arms around Daniel in a giant bear hug. “Danny! Dan the Man!” He smacks Daniel hard several times on the back. Daniel is stiff as a corpse, except for the very slightest twitch in his eye.

  “So good to see you!” Tiberius continues. “I miss you! What has it been? Two years? Three?” He throws his head back and laughs. “Come, let’s find you a woman and—”

  Daniel’s fist swings out and clocks Tiberius straight in the jaw. The maid screams and peels down the hallway. Tiberius hits the floor like a sack of potatoes.