The Heir (The Selection #4)

“You’ve seen the extravagant tea party, you heard about the delicious food, and you saw all the breathtaking fashion; but who did you think should be eliminated?

“Yes, Sir Kile looked somewhat less than manly in my tiara, and Sir Hale nearly swept me off my feet . . . in a bad way,” I concluded with a grin. “But, after much deliberation, the two Selected leaving us today are Kesley Timber from Whites and Holden Messenger from Bankston.

“How is your favorite doing? Dying to learn more about the remaining contestants? Hungry for more Selection-related news? Tune in to the Report each Friday night for updates from me and the gentlemen themselves, and don’t forget to look out for exclusive programs dedicated to the Selection exclusively on the Public Access Channel.”

I held my smile a few seconds longer.

“Cut!” the director called. “Excellent. Sounded perfect to me, but let’s do one more for good measure.”

“Sure. When will this go out?”

“They’ll edit all the footage from this afternoon’s party tonight and get it on air tomorrow, so this should be out on Monday.”

I nodded. “Great. One more time?”

“Yes, Your Highness, if you don’t mind.”

I swallowed and went over my speech again before pulling myself up into the exact same pose.

At ten past nine I heard the knock on my door, and I skipped over to answer it. Kile was there, leaning against the doorframe, tiara in hand.

“I heard you were missing this,” he said jokingly.

“Come in, loser.”

He passed through the doorway, looking around again as if I redecorated my room daily. “So am I getting cut yet?”

I grinned. “No, it’s Kesley and Holden. Don’t let that spill though. I can’t send them away until after the garden party airs.”

“That won’t be a problem. Neither of them really speaks to me anyway.”

“No?” I asked as he handed me my tiara.

“I’ve heard they thought me being a part of the Selection was unfair. And then seeing our kiss plastered everywhere sealed that opinion.”

I placed the tiara on the shelf with the others. “Made a good call then, didn’t I?”

He chuckled. “Oh, I brought you another present.”

“I love presents!”

“You’ll hate this one, trust me.” He reached into his pocket and pulled out that spectacular disaster of a tie.

“I figured if you were having a bad day, you could take it to the garden and burn it. Get your aggression out on something that won’t cry. Unlike Leeland.”

“I wasn’t trying to make him cry.”

“Sure you weren’t.”

I smiled, taking the wound-up fabric from his hand. “I actually really like this present. It assures me that no human will be forced to wear it ever again.”

Looking over at him, at his hitched-up smile, I was able to push away everything for a minute. It felt like the Selection wasn’t even happening just then. I was a girl with a boy. And I knew what I wanted to do with that boy.

I dropped the tie on the floor and put a hand on his chest. “Kile Woodwork, do you want to kiss me?”

He let out a whistle. “Not shy at all, are you?”

“Stop it. Yes or no?”

He pursed his lips, pretending to think it over. “I wouldn’t mind it.”

“And you understand that me kissing you doesn’t mean I actually like you and that I would never, ever marry you?”

“Thank goodness.”

“Right answer.”

I wrapped my hand around his head, pulling him to me, and an instant later his arms were around my waist. It was the perfect balm for a long day. Kile’s kisses were direct and slow, and he made it impossible for me to think about much else.

We toppled onto the bed, holding each other as we laughed.

“Of all the things I thought would happen when my name was called, I never dreamed I’d ever kiss you.”

“I never dreamed you’d be good at it.”

“Hey,” he said, “I’ve had a bit of practice.”

I propped myself up on my elbow. “Who was your last kiss?”

“Caterina. When the Italian family visited in August, right before I left.”

“That doesn’t surprise me at all.”

Kile shrugged, not ashamed in the slightest. “What can I say? They’re very friendly.”

“Friendly,” I repeated, rolling my eyes. “That’s one word for it.”

He chuckled. “What about you?”

“Ask Ahren. Apparently everyone already knows.”

“Leron Troyes?”

“How did you find out?”

We lay there, laughing so much we were nearly crying. I played with a button on his shirt, and he twirled a piece of my hair between kisses, and the world shrank to just the two of us.

“I’ve never seen you like this,” he commented. “I didn’t know it could be so easy to make you smile.”

“It’s not. You must be in rare form today.”

Kile wrapped an arm around me and placed his face inches from mine. “How are you feeling? I know this has got to be a crazy time for you.”

“Don’t,” I whispered.

“Don’t what?”

“Don’t ruin this. I like having you here, but I’m not in need of a soul mate. You can be quiet and go back to kissing me, or you can leave.”

He rolled onto his back, silent for a few minutes. “Sorry. I just wanted to talk.”

“And you can. But not about you, not about me, and definitely not about you and me together.”

“But it seems like you must be lonely. How in the world do you deal with all this?”

I huffed, standing and pulling him to his feet. “If I need advice, I talk to my parents. If I need a friendly ear, I have Ahren. You were helping for a minute, and then you had to start with the questions.”

I turned him around and pushed him toward the door. “Do you realize how unhealthy that is?” he asked

“Are you the model of adult behavior? You can’t even get your mother to cut the apron strings.”

Kile rounded back, staring me down. I was sure his anger was reflected in my face. I waited for him to scold me again, as he’d done a thousand times growing up. But his eyes softened, and before I knew it, his hand was at the base of my neck, pulling me to him.

He crushed his lips to mine, and I simultaneously hated and adored him for it. All I could think of was the way his mouth moved and how I seemed so fragile in his hands. The passion slowed, until the kisses were so soft they tickled.