The Everest Brothers: Ethan - Hutton - Bennett

by Scott, S. L.

  * * *

  Three hours later, the women walk into the apartment to find Ally’s brother passed out and Bennett scrounging through the fridge looking for snacks. Ally holds up a bag. “I brought dinner.”

  The bag is confiscated by my brother before she can even tell me what’s inside. Fuck, I’m starving, but seeing her there makes me wonder if it’s for food or for her. “Well, I did bring dinner,” she adds, laughing.

  Something’s different about her, and it’s not just because I’m drunk-ish. She seems almost carefree, like how she used to be in Austin before the end came to that dream. I get up from the chair and greet her properly. Taking her by the waist, I dip her. A cross between happy and worried moves through her eyes. “I love you so fucking much.”

  Happiness wins, and she touches my cheek. “Why do you love me?”

  “I love you because every day with you feels like I’m living for the first time. I love you for your strong will and determination. I love you, Ally, for being you and for the man you believe I am. I’ll live up to it. I swear to you.”

  “You can’t say things like that, Hutton, and not expect me to cry—”

  “I just did.” I kiss her before she tries to take control, insisting she gets to run this show. It’s my dedication, so I kiss her again after we catch our breath. When I swing her to her feet, I say, “No great love affair comes without its obstacles. No matter what happens with the crown, I promise to give you the fairy-tale ending.”

  “Is that a promise for a promise?”

  We’re way past beating around the bush. “That’s a promise of marriage, princess.” I kiss her again and leave her leaning on the edge of the couch with bones of jelly.

  Singer wraps her arm around Marielle’s shoulders, and says, “I’m telling you those Everest brothers are trouble.”

  “Of the best kind,” she replies.

  I say, “Be careful. Jakob was not happy hearing about you and my brother.”

  “And you?”

  “Whatever makes you happy. How serious are you?”

  “Not serious.” Her reply comes fast. “I’m not the woman for him, and he’s not my Prince Charming. But he’s a lot of fun in the meantime.”

  Bennett has definitely rubbed off on her. Maybe she’s changing too.

  We walk into the dining area, and I sit down, asking, “So it’s all good with Marielle?”

  “Yeah, she’s hot, but that situation is more complicated than I like to get when it comes to women right now.” He takes another large bite of the noodles. “Good Chinese food, by the way.”

  Now that I know he won’t be heartbroken over Marielle, I make my way back to my princess. They turn up the volume to the TV, the college game we were watching now blaring. With their eyes glued to the screen, I’m about to whisper something in Ally’s ear, when she stands. “Open your eyes, ref!” she shouts at the TV. “That was a clean quarterback sack.”

  My pride in her knowledge is crazy. That she not only learned about something I love but can get into it? So fucking hot. “Can I make you something to eat?”

  “I’d love it. Thank you.”

  Singer follows me into the kitchen. “I’m heading out, but I wanted to come tell you privately that Ally is wonderful, Hut. What an amazing woman.”

  “She is.”

  She hugs me. “I worry about you, but I’m worried about her as well. Is it safe for her to go back?”

  “I don’t think so, which is why I’m going.”

  “I think that’s best,” she says, “but be careful and keep in constant contact.”

  “I will.”

  “Where’s Margie?”

  “Jakob got her a room at the Westin across the street. He thought it best to give Ally a little space today to have fun.”

  “Did she have fun?”

  “She did. You might even have a little fun later once you see what she bought.”

  Eyeing her, I ask, “Oh yeah? What is it?”

  Singer zips her lips but then laughs. “I should get going. Ethan called me looking for his car keys.”

  “Did he lose them?”

  “Nope.” She pulls them from her pocket and dangles them. “I took the girls for a spin. It’s not every day someone gets to ride in a Lamborghini, even if they are royalty.”

  “So Ethan doesn’t know you took his baby?”

  “Eh, it’s not his baby.” With her hands on her hips, she wiggles. “I am. Gotta run. Later, Hut.”

  She says goodbye to everyone and then slips out.

  Checking to see if there’s anything left of the food Ally brought home, I grab a container from the table in front of Bennett. “I saved some,” he says.

  “Not enough. I’m ordering pizza.” I place the order, but I notice the girls are getting louder and louder as they yell at the TV. I can relate . . . every Sunday.

  Ally looks back at me, and says, “Football is so fucking frustrating.”

  As if she wasn’t already a dream come true, now she’s cussing over football too. While we wait for the pizza to arrive, I take Ally and Marielle glasses of wine, and I’m rewarded with a kiss from my favorite girl.

  I ask, “Have a minute to talk?”

  She pushes up. “Yes, this game is too frustrating to watch anyway.”

  I chuckle as we walk down the hall into the bedroom. She closes it and asks, “What’s up?”

  “I’m going with you. I know what you said, and I’d like to honor that request—”

  “It wasn’t a request, Hutton. You’ll upset my father the moment he lays eyes on you. I don’t want him operating from a defensive position.”

  “I don’t want you to go either. So how do we reconcile the two sides?”

  She comes to me, and her hands slip under my shirt. “So what you’re saying is you’re coming even though I believe you shouldn’t?”

  Cocking an eyebrow, I take the bait and give her what she’s aiming for. “I will be if luck is on my side.”

  “You don’t need luck.”

  “What do I need?”

  “What you’ve given me in telling me you’re coming to Brudenbourg. We don’t act as team Hutton or team Ally. We are team us.” She finally gets it.

  I smile with a goofy pride that whether or not I ever sit on that throne, I’ll always be by her side. “Exactly.”

  She bites her lip. I pluck it out from under her teeth and rub the pad of my thumb over it twice before kissing her. When we part and her eyes open, she says, “I missed you today.”

  I push her hair behind her ear, admiring her. “Show me how much, baby.”

  “Luck is definitely on your side.”

  Thirty minutes later, we return to the living room. Bennett’s dumped Jakob in a spare bedroom down the other hall and made sure Marielle had everything she needed before going back to his place.

  While I eat pizza with Ally, I take the time to enjoy this moment between us, because tomorrow could bring more than unforeseen trouble.

  * * *

  We buckle our seatbelts and prepare for takeoff. “In eight hours, we’ll come face-to-face with your parents again. Are you ready?”

  “I am,” she says with confidence. “It’s not going to be easy emotionally, but it needs to happen.”

  There’s an endless sky of beautiful clouds outside the window. While she settles in with a good book, I lean back and watch her, discovering her unfolding story much more fascinating than any pretty scenery.

  I’m not sure of the role I’ll play when we return to Brudenbourg, but I know who I am to her and who she is to me. It’s not always been the easiest relationship to define, but it’s been interesting. And worth it.

  I’m pragmatic in my everyday life. My routine had become predictable. Stifled. Ally has breathed life into my days and love into my nights. There’s nothing rational about what we’ve become so fast, but it doesn’t scare me. Time is a number. I’m good with numbers and facts.

  I love her.

  I love her spont
aneity.

  I love her thoughtfulness.

  I love the anger that drives her.

  Determination.

  Passion.

  Whiplash moods.

  I love everything about her.

  And because of that, I will be there for my girl however she needs me.

  33

  Ally

  We’re allowed to land, and an SUV is waiting for us. I’m not sure if my parents know I’m here with Margie, Jakob, and Marielle or not. But no doubt security will advise them shortly.

  Among the quiet chatter of the group, Hutton takes my hand on the seat between us and brings it to his lap. “Don’t be nervous,” he says.

  “They don’t know I’m here, and they definitely don’t know you’re here. But the worst part is that they know what I’ve done.”

  “What have you done, Princess? Fallen in love. Yes, it’s not as headline-making as they’d like for an excuse to kick you out of succession, but that’s all they have on you. Your case would be a PR nightmare for them in the court of public opinion. So don’t stress. You’re holding the cards. All you have to do is play your hand.”

  “Which is?”

  Shaking his head at himself, he chuckles as he looks down at our hands. “A royal flush.”

  I want to roll my eyes, but his cheesy reply has me giggling with him. “That was really terrible.”

  “I know.” He’s still laughing. “Just awful.”

  Sliding across the seat, I bump up against him, and say, “Promise you’ll always tell me terribly unfunny jokes.”

  He kisses my head. “Don’t worry. I have a lifetime full of them.”

  The palace comes into view, situated in the middle of rolling green hills with a blanket of hovering fog. The midday sun will burn it off soon enough, and I can’t help but want it to melt my father’s cold heart. I don’t know if I’m walking into anger or hate or if we can talk and get past this and back on track. I’m still hurt that he called me a whore. Is that what he really thinks of me, or were they heated words shouted in the moment?

  My hand tightens around Hutton’s. I sincerely hope whatever I’m threatened with or how I’m treated never touches him.

  His love is pure, obvious, and not hidden. It’s simple. He’s a man who fell in love with a woman. We might have been physical at first, but the bond was there, the emotions tied in from the moment we met. I wish I would have seen the possibility sooner, to know he’d want to be a part of this crazy life . . . maybe things could have been different.

  I still have those awful, antiquated bylaws to deal with, even if I do convince my father to let me keep the crown I was born to wear. With my mother’s lack of action, I’m determined to help women get out from under some of these laws. We’re a progressive country until you dig deeper. And even though no one technically holds anyone to some of them, the threat remains.

  The SUV comes to a stop, and the group looks around at each other. It’s the quiet before the storm. Margie and I haven’t talked much since yesterday, but we’ve laid down our weapons. For now. Ultimately, the next few hours will determine where our friendship finally lands.

  Jakob says, “I should talk to him first. I have the least to lose.”

  I look at Hutton who gives him a simple nod. No words. What can we say anyway?

  Everyone files out, and I walk hand in hand with Hutton right to the center of the palace steps. Most of the staff has lined up to welcome us home, including Birgit and Gerhart. Birgit smiles so joyfully and then curtsies. She’s the most stubborn woman ever. Privately, I’ve told her never to curtsy for me again. I should be bowing down to her. Warm souls are a rare find. She made me feel as though I belonged when I was floundering. But she insists on respecting my royal title and does it to make sure everyone else does too.

  The large blue and gold doors open, and we enter the grand hall. A gilded coffered ceiling and crystal chandelier larger than Hutton hangs in the center. The architecture and murals never cease to take my breath away. It’s one of my favorite places in the palace. “When I was a young girl, I used to lie in the center of the floor and stare at the little murals in each box of the ceiling.” Hutton looks up. I add, “They’re each a story.”

  “A fable.”

  “Yes. Each represents a different fable.”

  His eyes find the last square protected by the golden beams. “Why is that one blank?”

  “That one is for me and my story.”

  His soothing browns come back to me, and he says, “You’re not fiction.”

  “I will be one day.” I glance at my sister, her words of despair about the people the monarchy sees as irrelevant coming to mind. “We’ll all just be a fable told to the young one day.”

  “That’s the saddest fucking thing I’ve ever heard. Why would you choose that life?”

  “I’m not.” My smile returns. “That’s why we’re here.”

  “Damn fucking straight.”

  Two soldiers enter from behind us and stand at the base of the stairs. “Really?” Jakob mumbles under his breath.

  My parents appear at the top of the stairs. Jakob is about to step forward, but I feel it’s my duty. I place a hand on his arm, and say, “I’ll take care of it.”

  When I glance at Hutton, he whispers, “You were born for this.” He brings my hand up and kisses the inside of my wrist, and says, “Show them who’s the queen.”

  Marielle and Margie part, allowing me to walk through. Marielle says, “Strong. Brave. Clever. I’m just like my big sister.”

  My soft heart wins, so I look at my friend, who says, “Take back what’s yours.”

  Smiling, I reach out and wrap my pinky around hers. “I intend to.” When hers holds mine in return, I know we’ll be okay.

  Heavy history fills my shoulders with tension when I watch as my parents descend the staircase. I compose myself, holding my weaker emotions in and putting the others on display. Walking toward them, I straighten my shoulders and raise my chin, but this time, I won’t be quiet. “Are the guards necessary? We’re your children.”

  “My mistake,” my father replies. “I took this as a coup.”

  “Revolt maybe, but not a coup.”

  “Semantics, Arabelle.” They stop on the bottom step, I’m sure wanting the height advantage.

  “Princess Arabelle.”

  “Not anymore.”

  “You can strip the title, but I’m still your daughter.”

  “Are you? he snaps. “My daughter would obey. Your actions speak as a libertine, a commoner, and then you expect to be treated like royalty. You were named after one of our greatest queens, but you’ve brought dishonor not only to Arabelle but also to the Sutcliffe name and to Brudenbourg. You’re no longer welcome here. Your title and your names will remain in these palace walls. You can retain Allyson and Edwards. The rest are no longer yours to use.”

  “You can’t do that. I know my rights by birth and law. You can exile me but can’t take away my names or my trust funds. Those are mine because I’m of legal age.” Stepping forward, I add, “And don’t think you’ll get away with ghosting me in our country’s history. I will do everything in my power to make sure everyone knows why I’m not the queen.”

  My mother sighs. “I went terribly wrong, Arabelle.”

  “With?” I ask, taking another step closer.

  The guards punch their staffs against the marble floor before crossing them in protection of the queen and prince. They might as well have stabbed me because the pain’s the same.

  I don’t have to turn around to know Hutton’s at my back. I feel his presence inside me as well as surrounding me, helping me hold on to my remaining strength. What I didn’t expect was to hear my brother take my right, and whisper, “You’re strong, sister.”

  That’s when I realize I don’t have to fight this alone, but I also have more strength than I knew. I have theirs too. “Is this what we’ve come to? You fear me?”

  “Move.” My mother steps down a
fter the staffs are brought back vertically in front of each guard. She comes to me despite my father’s protest. Standing in front of me with her hands clasped between us, she says, “I failed in so many ways, my daughter. I failed to lead my country into modern times, to teach my daughters the way of our land, and to be there as the mother you deserved.”

  She looks at my father. “I gave you too much power.” When she turns back to me, she adds, “I didn’t give you enough credit. I never wanted this station in life. I actually loved someone else.”

  “Aemilia!”

  Her hand pops up. “Silence, Werner.”

  She may have given him too much power, but he’s wise enough to know who’s the queen. I want to say I’m surprised, but I’m not. They’ve never been a couple who made public displays of affection. I assumed they cared for each other in private, but they were still a match made by my grandparents. She’s just lucky she fell for him. She says, “I think we should talk. Will you join me in the living room?”

  That’s a room we used to get in trouble for entering when we were little. Full of antiques dating back more than five hundred years, we were always told to touch with our eyes and not our hands. Margie and I would sneak in after tea and before supper and touch everything. I smile from the memory. The carpet gave us away, small footprints dented from our Mary Janes. We’d get grounded, but it was worth it.

  She holds out her elbow, and I take it. But I stop and look back at Hutton. My mother says, “He may join us. Everyone may.”

  I don’t know what she plans on saying once we’re there, but that she’s allowing Hutton to come with us feels like progress has already been made. We walk in silence, our shoes the only sound until we reach that pale pink carpet. I stop and smile, looking back to connect with Margie, who’s also grinning.

  My mother takes a seat, and we file around. I sit closest at one end of the settee. Hutton next to Marielle and me. Jakob stands behind Margie as she sits on the other side and my father walks to the fireplace, leaning against the mantle. “Be careful, Aemilia,” he warns.

  “I’ve spent my whole life being careful. Where did that get me?”