“Well, that’s up to you.” I took a deep breath.

“What do you mean?”

“It depends on what you want people to think. We could try to sneak out the back, but it’s likely to be crawling with photographers.” I chewed on my bottom lip for a moment, worried about what he would say. “Or we could leave through the front, let them photograph us together.”

“Okay.” I could see his mind working through the potential scenarios. “Being photographed together isn’t a lifelong commitment.”

“No.” I chuckled. “But it will always be floating around in the world. It could come up at some point in the future.”

“So?” He shook his head with a smile. “Anything could come up from the past.” He grabbed my hand and ran his thumb over my knuckles. “Let’s go.”

“You’re sure?” So many of my acquaintances hid their relationships from the public; secret rendezvous and hasty phone calls were all they had. Walking out hand-in-hand with David after only three dates would seem like a big deal to the media. “They’re going to assume that we’ve been dating for a long time if we do this.”

“Well, you know what they say about assuming.” He pulled me to my feet. “It makes an ass out of them.”

“I thought the saying went: It makes an ass out of you and me.” I let him pull me along with him. There were still a few people in the theater, but none of them paid us any attention.

“Yeah, but it really just makes an ass out of them.”

The press was out in full force as we exited the theater. The amount of people crammed around the doors was staggering as other moviegoers realized that there was someone famous inside. Jameson took point with Mark in the rear. It was like a madhouse, with people shoving to get a good shot, people hollering questions, and royal watchers trying to hand me presents.

David put his arm around my shoulder to try and keep the worst of the offenders at bay, but it merely incited the reporters.

“Aren’t you Princess Samantha’s friend?”

“Is that how you met?”

“How long have you been together?”

“Are you pregnant? Is there a baby royal on the way?”

I stumbled on that question, caught off guard. I knew that Sam had dealt with people asking that question, but in the past there had been no reason for people to even wonder about me and my uterus.

David was a champ and never broke stride. Between him, Jameson, and Mark, I was tucked safely in my car within moments.

“Wow. Maybe I should rethink this shirt.” I looked down at the flowing top I had chosen and frowned.

“They just wanted a reaction.”

“When did you learn so much about the media?” I buckled my seat belt and watched him.

“You’re not the only one that’s had a busy week.”

“Did something bad happen?” I watched his face tic as he thought about something.

“No, nothing bad. It just wears me out; the constant smiling and talking. I have no idea how you do it so often.”

“You’re an introvert.” I shrugged. “It’s harder for you, because you need time to yourself to recharge. That’s not a bad thing, but it makes it difficult in this type of job. Max is an introvert as well. That’s why he does everything he can to get out of public events. He doesn’t mind the speaking so much as the mingling afterward.”

“And what about you? Are you an introvert or an extrovert?”

“Extrovert.” I didn’t hesitate to answer. “I love being around people.” I hesitated for a minute. “Usually. Lately things have been different.”

“You planned a huge wedding, took on more appearances, and then watched someone close to you almost die. That would wear anyone out.” He shifted in his seat so he was turned slightly in my direction. “Maybe you should take a break. Surely things aren’t going to just stop if you take a day off.”

“I wish.” I sighed. “Some of these things have been planned for months—years even. How do you tell someone that you’re just having a ‘me’ day?”

“That would be difficult.” He humphed to himself.

“It’s not so bad. I usually have a weekend or two off every month. This month is just a little different.” I shrugged. I didn’t mention that lately I stay home on my weekends off. Then again, I doubted he would be worried about whether or not I went to clubs or bars.

“What do you do on your weekends off?”

“Normal things.” I shrugged.

“What are normal things?” He chuckled. “Reading? Gardening? Robbing banks?”

“Pfft. I don’t need to rob banks.” I raised an eyebrow. “I do that for fun.”

“Living on the edge, huh?” He smiled.

“Is there any other way?” Laughing, I rolled my eyes. “Okay. No bank robbing, but I do occasionally swipe extra desserts.”

“We all have to start somewhere.” He nudged my leg with his knee. “And what other dangerous activities do you take part in?”

“I run.” Shrugging, I smiled at him. “It’s one of the only times I’m truly by myself. No one demanding or expecting anything of me.”

“They let you run by yourself?” He seemed surprised.

“Only on the property. If I run at school I have a guard with me.” I couldn’t help my grimace. “She keeps her distance, but it’s not the same thing.”




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