I shake my head. "I'm too important to remember anything besides how to hold my sticks."
She laughs. "Really?"
I tap my front pocket. "I have them all saved."
"And do you know how many weeks you've spent in the Billboard Top 200?"
Not offhand. I don't pay attention to status shit. I mostly look at the crowd every night. "Do you?"
She nods. "But I'm not telling." She pulls the limo door open and climbs in before the driver can insist on helping.
He holds the door open and motions to me. "Mr. Young."
I raise a brow.
"Your highness." His straight face cracks for a second then it's back. "Should I plan on a dinner stop?"
"Let me ask the queen." I slide into the limo.
This time, I take the seat next to Bella. Bad idea. Being this close to her is sending all my blood straight to my cock. It doesn't help that I have a perfect view of her cleavage.
I force myself to look her in the eyes. "You hungry?"
"Yeah." She presses her lips together. "Maybe we could go through a drive-through."
I have to laugh. "And I'm the one trying to draw attention."
Her cheeks flush. "Okay, we can go in. I'm not the one who hired a limo."
"I flew to Vegas from San Francisco."
"You could have rented a car."
"Excuse me from attempting to start my honeymoon right."
The smile falls off her face. Her gaze goes to the floor. "Oh. Well. That's… you ordered this limo last night?"
"Yeah."
"That's very romantic, thanks."
"I ordered it so we could fuck all the way home."
She laughs.
"I'm not romantic."
"You married a stranger in Las Vegas. That's not something a cynic does." Her gaze goes to her engagement ring. She keeps her voice neutral, even as she stares at the ring. "I am hungry. Don't laugh, but I want Chipotle."
"Why would I laugh?"
"Californians are particular about Mexican food."
That is true, but— "I'm from the bay. We don't know shit about Mexican food."
"Okay, then Chipotle it is." She pulls out her phone and does a search. "The closest one is an hour and a half away."
"Can you wait?"