by T. K. Leigh
When she’s about to erase the final space between us, sealing her declaration with a kiss, I stop her, pressing a finger to her lips. It kills me to have to do this right here, right now, but things are different. I’m no longer Anderson North, some guy who slightly resembles Prince Gabriel of Belmont. I’m here as Prince Gabriel of Belmont. She needs to understand what she’s getting into.
“What is it?” she asks, gaze searching mine. “I thought this was what you wanted. I—”
“It is,” I answer quickly, my jaw clenching with need. “God, you have no idea how much I want this.” I glance over my shoulder at a few members of the media, their brows knitted in curiosity, obviously realizing the woman in my embrace is the same woman from the photographs providing the backsplash to our reunion.
“There are reporters here. If we do this, there won’t be any going back. You’ll officially be Prince Gabriel of Belmont’s girlfriend. So I want you to really think about that. To really consider if you’re ready for this.”
She stares at me for what feels like an eternity. Blinks. Contemplates. Then smiles. Reaching up, she tousles my hair, messing it up. I can’t help but marvel at how our roles have reversed. All those months ago, I was the one encouraging Nora to finally let down her hair and live. Now she’s doing the same thing for me.
“I fell in love with Anderson North.” She pushes a few tendrils of hair out of my face. “In my eyes, that’s who you’ll always be. My Anderson North.”
She crushes her lips against mine, her kiss fevered and frantic as we reconnect. But this kiss is so much more addictive, so much more heated, so much more intimate than any of our previous exchanges. Because, for the first time, we’re sharing this personal moment with every part of each other. With every piece of our minds, our souls, our hearts. We’ve bared ourselves to each other, put ourselves at risk, praying the other keeps us safe.
My chest heaving through my labored breaths, I manage to pull away. I faintly make out a few whistles and cheers, accompanied by the familiar clicking of camera shutters, but I don’t care about any of that. I have this amazing, incredible woman in my arms. We’re back in our bubble. The only place I want to be.
“Say it again,” I murmur against her.
I feel her mouth quirk up into a smile. “You’ll always be Anderson North to me.”
“No. The other thing.”
She pulls back, peering at me with a furrowed brow. Then understanding tugs on her expression, peace washing over her. Bringing her lips to mine, she whispers those three words I didn’t think I’d ever hear.
“I love you.”
I push out a relieved breath, my heart expanding. “And I love you.” I cover her mouth with mine once more, drinking in everything this woman is. Everything she has been. Everything she’s yet to be.
Our love story may be unconventional, but at the end of the day, it’s just that. A love story. A story of perseverance. Of strength. But mostly, of the power of forgiveness.
Never in a million years did I expect Nora to forgive me after everything I took from her. I’m still not sure I deserve it. But I plan to do everything in my power to earn that forgiveness every day for the rest of my life.
And I have every intention of living a very long life with this woman by my side.
Chapter Forty-Two
Nora
Seven months later
The sun warms my skin as I sit on the pool deck of Evie and Julian’s new home in Rye, just outside the city. I never thought they’d leave their proverbial castle in the sky, the penthouse apartment overlooking Columbus Circle, but with a baby on the way, they decided it was time to move in order to raise their daughter somewhere more family friendly.
As did Chloe and Lincoln, who also have a baby due the same month as Evie and Julian. Based on their due dates this fall, it seems both couples got busy around Valentine’s Day.
“Okay, girls. Now that it’s just us, it’s time to open your real gifts,” I say, reaching underneath the table by the pool and retrieving two identical gift bags, handing them across the table to today’s guests of honor — Evie and Chloe.
I didn’t think I’d ever see the day Chloe would be pregnant. Until she met Lincoln, she was vehemently anti-relationship. I guess all it takes is meeting the right person to change your mind, to convince you that you can have everything.
I glance over my shoulder at Anderson, who sits around a table at the other end of the pool, chatting animatedly with Julian, Lincoln, and Asher. It warms my heart to see all the men in our lives get along as well as we girls do. It gives me hope that nothing will ever stand between our friendship. Not misunderstandings. Not children. Not even an ocean…which, in just a few days, will separate us.
“We told you,” Chloe begins, rubbing her stomach. She’s only six months along, but because of her short and slender body, it looks like she’s ready to pop at any second. “You didn’t need to get us anything. You two threw us this Baby-Q.” She waves her hand around the remnants of today’s event. Since Chloe’s and Evie’s due dates are so close, Izzy and I made the decision to throw a joint “shower” for both of them. It was easier than having to do this twice.
“And we told you that you were crazy,” Izzy states. “It’s not every day two of your friends get knocked up.”
“Yay for sex!” Evie jokes, giggling, readjusting herself in her chair, finding it difficult to get comfortable.
A hint of nostalgia fills me. I hadn’t been much further along than my two friends when I lost Ember and Hunter. A year ago, it would have been difficult for me to be around Evie and Chloe, watch them bring life into the world, knowing I lost that opportunity. But I no longer feel that way. Anderson has given me hope I can have all that again.
“Go ahead,” I encourage, nodding at the bags. “But you each need to do it at the same time. The gifts are identical.”
Evie and Chloe share a look, then dig into the bags, pulling out the item on top. When they fold back the tissue, they burst out laughing at the oversized wine glasses decorated with the words “Mommy’s Sippy Cup”.
“This will definitely come in handy,” Chloe jokes. “But I’m not sure I’ll use it. I’ll probably drink straight from the bottle.” She playfully rolls her eyes, but I can tell she doesn’t mean it. She’s never been a big drinker, too worried she’ll follow in her mother’s alcoholic footsteps, especially now that she’s on the brink of becoming a mother herself.
“Nothing wrong with drinking straight from the bottle once in a while.” I wink. “Keep going.”
The girls reach back into their bags and pull out a red box that looks like a first-aid kit.
“Open it,” Izzy instructs, both of us sharing a satisfied smile.
Evie and Chloe unlatch their kits and laugh once more. Instead of containing bandages and medical supplies as one would expect, it’s filled with mini liquor bottles, all of them relabeled. “For poop-splosions.” “Drink when the baby’s been up all night crying.” “For parental use during teething.”
“This is perfect,” Evie says through her giggles, closing the lid on the kit and returning her attention to the bag, both of them pulling out the final item.
When they push back the tissue, they gasp, the lighthearted atmosphere shifting to one that’s more meaningful and poignant. Tears dot their eyes, their gazes trained on the dust jacket of the thin, hardcover book. It’s a cartoon likeness of younger versions of the four of us, our arms wrapped around each other.
“How did—”
“We went behind your backs and got help from a few of the graphic designers at the magazine,” Izzy explains. “They did all these illustrations for us.”
“If you flip through, you’ll see they even included the guys in there, too.”
Evie opens to the first page and reads the text Izzy and I worked on, which was a feat considering we’re not the writers amongst our circle of friends. Evie and Chloe are.
“Life is full of ups and downs, happy moments
and sad moments, beginnings and endings,” she reads with a quivering voice. “But with the right friends, your downs won’t seem so bad. Your sad times won’t be so tough. And the endings will still have a glimmer of hope.” She looks back to us, her tears now streaming steadily down her face.
“This is incredible,” Chloe remarks through her own gentle sobs. One thing is certain. Pregnancy certainly softened her. Although I’ve always known she has a soft side. She just doesn’t allow many people to see it. “You two did this all on your own?”
“Your two best friends only have their first baby once,” Izzy says. “You deserve something to commemorate it. To commemorate us.”
And that’s exactly what this book is. Yes, it’s written for children as a way to offer advice to help them through all the ups and downs they’ll navigate throughout their life. But it was also to commemorate what we’ve been through as friends. That no matter what life has thrown at each of us, we’ve found our strength through each other.
“I love you girls,” Evie states, wiping her tears. Izzy and I get up and skirt to the other side of the table, all of us wrapping our arms around each other.
A thickness forms in my throat over the fact that I’ll no longer have this amazing support group mere miles away. But our bond is too strong. Regardless of what the future brings, of how many miles separate us, we’ll survive. We’ll teach our children the meaning of true friendship, and one day, they’ll be just as inseparable and devoted to each other as we are.
There are friends.
There is family.
Then there are friends who become family.
These three women are my family. They always will be.
“How are you holding up?” Anderson asks later that evening as we lay in the bed in the Upper West Side townhouse he’d purchased so I’d have somewhere to call home in New York.
I told him we could keep the lease on my place, but he insisted I deserved something better than a tiny apartment where the pipes creaked and the walls were paper thin. Not to mention the security was questionable, which is something I still have trouble taking into account.
“Good,” I say.
“Are you sure about this?” He touches my chin, drawing my eyes to his.
“Why? Are you having second thoughts?”
He brushes his lips against mine. “Waking up with you beside me every day? Being able to have you as an amuse-bouche before dinner?” he jokes, considering that’s how we ended up naked in this bed before seven at night. “Not a chance in hell.”
“Me, either.”
While I was initially apprehensive about taking this next step with Anderson, it’s the right thing to do. I’d be lying if I said I didn’t feel a slight bit of vindication when I told my mother I would be moving to Belmont, proving her wrong when she’d told me Anderson was using me as a cheap piece of ass before moving on to something better. I can’t wait for her to ask to come visit, only for me to refuse her request.
Regardless, it’s time to start this next chapter. With Anderson. He hasn’t popped the question yet, but we’ve discussed it. Not like a normal couple would. Instead, he warned me about everything I’d have to give up once I’m his wife. My privacy. My career.
If he was trying to scare me, it didn’t work. I knew what I’d give up once I entered into this relationship. And my career isn’t really a career. Merely something I did to get over Hunter. I don’t need it anymore, considering most of my free time is devoted to Anderson’s charitable foundation. He’s all I need now. I no longer dwell on the past. My last reminder of Hunter, the ring he proposed with, is now kept safe in my box of memories. Where he belongs. In my memories. Not in my present. In its place is a new necklace Anderson had made for me — a charm with the penny that changed everything for us. That will always remind me of the best adventure of my life.
“You’re not going to miss your friends so much that you change your mind?”
“We’ll be back here enough. We’ll need to get your money’s worth out of this amazing apartment. And this bed.”
“I can get on board with that.” He buries his face in my neck, his scruff causing a tingling to stir in my core, regardless of the fact he just treated me to yet another incredible orgasm. But I doubt I’ll ever have my fill of this man. Every day, I find myself falling in love with him all over again. With his heart. With his soul. With his devotion.
“I knew you would. But seriously…” I prop myself on my side, resting my head in my hand as Anderson traces the curve of my body. “An ocean can’t sever our friendship.” I draw my bottom lip between my teeth, hesitating, before adding, “Although in a few months, travel may become difficult.”
He frowns, brows drawing in. “Why?”
I leisurely lower my free hand to my stomach, resting it where a tiny life grows.
Anderson’s expression grows wide at my insinuation. “Are you…”
I beam. “I am.”
Excitement overwhelms him as he drags me into his arms, his mouth covering mine in an impassioned kiss, consuming, enthralling, loving.
When he pulls back, he frames my face in his hands, his gaze full of wonder. “How?”
“Well…” I smirk. “When a boy likes a girl, they—”
He growls playfully. “I know how. But I thought you were on birth control.”
“I am. Apparently, they’re not lying when they say it’s not a hundred percent effective.” I frown. “You’re not upset, are you?”
“God no.” He pulls me back into his embrace, kissing the top of my head. “I never thought this would happen. After you learned the truth, I didn’t think you’d want to have kids, especially with me.”
“I don’t care about the past. I told you that.”
“No. Not about that. But…” He licks his lips, collecting his thoughts. “I may not always be like this, Nora. I may not always be physically able.”
I release a small sigh as I bring my lips to his. “I love you. All of you. Even if you have to use a wheelchair one day, I’ll still love you. My love comes without conditions. Always has. Always will.”
He presses his mouth back to mine, a groan escaping. “Marry me,” he murmurs.
“You’re only saying that because you’re my baby daddy,” I laugh.
I expect his eyes to be alight with amusement, but they’re not.
“I’m serious, Nora. I want to marry you.” He briefly releases his hold on me, reaching across the mattress to open the drawer on the nightstand before returning to me, holding a velvet box.
I shoot to sitting, bringing up the duvet to cover my exposed chest, as if that will help me feel any less vulnerable than I do. He leans against the headboard, full of the same confidence I remember from our very first meeting.
“I’ve been trying to figure out the best time to ask you, thinking I needed to have this elaborate thing planned. But now that I think about it, that’s not what you need. If I’ve learned anything from our time together, it’s that the only thing that matters is now. The present. This moment.”
When he flips open the box, I gasp, my attention drawn to the stunning diamond ring. It has a vintage flair to it. The breathtaking stone is flanked by rows of smaller glittering diamonds along the band.
“Nora Jean Tremblay, you are the most incredible, selfless, compassionate woman I know. When I saw you sitting in that diner in Chicago, I physically felt you. I hadn’t experienced anything like that in so long. I didn’t know anything about you. Your name. Your smile. Your voice. Regardless, in that moment, you saved me. Before then, I was in a dark place. I didn’t think life was worth it anymore. But you reminded me what it felt like to live. To laugh.” He cups my cheek, swiping the tears off my face. “To love. So, please, be my wife. Be my partner. Be my lifelong road trip companion.” He poises his lips on mine. “Be my greatest adventure.”
I can barely breathe through the lump in my throat, but manage to squeak out a tiny, “Yes.”
He crushes his mouth
against mine, tugging my body to his. Grabbing my left hand, he slips the ring onto my finger. The instant it slides into place, a warmth fills me. This is now the third time a man has proposed to me. But it never felt like this, even with Hunter. Like a puzzle piece finally snapping into place.
My mother once told me that falling in love is a lot like giving someone a loaded gun pointed at your heart and trusting them not to pull the trigger. I always thought it was a cynical way of looking at love. That allowing yourself to fall in love was giving someone the power to destroy you.
For the longest time, that was how I looked at love. As something that could destroy, not uplift. Something that could break, not mend. Something that should be feared, not revered.
She was wrong.
I no longer look at love as something to be weary of. No longer keep my heart locked tight for fear that someone will destroy it. We can’t control what happens in the future. But we can control what happens right now. In this moment.
And right now, I have never been more in love with Anderson North.
All little girls dream of finding their own Prince Charming.
I finally found mine.
Thank you for reading ROYAL GAMES! I hope you enjoyed Anderson and Nora’s story. And surprise! There will be more Anderson and Nora coming soon! Find out how Nora adjusts to royal life with Anderson in Tangled Games!
Every little girl dreams of becoming a princess.
But this is no fairy tale.
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