Bridget
Trial Month Four
By the time graduation rolled around a month later, I’d corralled the butterflies into a cage, but an errant one escaped twice. Once, when I saw Rhys petting Meadow, who’d worn him down with her utter cuteness. Another time when I saw the way his arm muscles flexed as he carried groceries into the house.
It didn’t take a lot to get my butterflies going. Hussies.
Still, despite the annoying critters living rent-free in my stomach, I tried to act normal around Rhys. I didn’t have another option.
“Do I get a medal or a certificate of recognition for my incredible restraint over the past four months?” It just so happened the last day of my trial period coincided with my graduation ceremony, and I couldn’t resist teasing Rhys while we waited for Ava to set up the shot on her tripod. She was our unofficial photographer for group photos today.
“No. You get a tracker-free phone.” Rhys scanned the quad, his suspicious gaze drilling into suburban dads with beer bellies and WASP-y moms dressed in head-to-toe Tory Burch alike.
“It’s been tracker-free this entire time.”
“Now it stays tracker-free.”
Apparently, Rhys had never heard of matching someone’s energy. I was trying to be lighthearted, and he was more serious than a heart attack.
Really, Bridget? Thisis the guy you want to flutter for?
Before I could come up with a witty response, Ava waved us over for photos, and Rhys lingered behind while I squeezed into the shot with Jules, Stella, Josh, and Ava, who was controlling the camera through an app on her phone.
I’d deal with my inappropriate flutters later. It was my last time on campus with my friends as a student, sort of, and I wanted to enjoy it.
“You stepped on my foot,” Jules snapped at Josh.
“Your foot got in my way,” Josh snapped back.
“Like I would intentionally put any part of my body in your way—”
“I need to Lysol myself to get your—”
“Stop it!” Stella slashed her hand through the air, startling everyone with her sharp tone. She was usually the most Zen in our group. “Or I’ll post the candid and very unflattering photos I have of the both of you online.”
Josh and Jules gasped. “You wouldn’t,” they said at the same time before glaring at each other.
I stifled a laugh while Ava, who usually played reluctant mediator between her friend and brother, cracked a smile.
Eventually, we wrangled everyone into a respectable group shot, then another, and another, until we took enough pictures to fill a half dozen albums and it was time to say goodbye.
I hugged my friends and tried to swallow the messy ball of emotion in my throat. “I’ll miss you guys.”
Jules and Stella were staying in D.C. to attend law school and work as an assistant at D.C. Style magazine, respectively, but Ava was heading to London for a year-long photography fellowship, and I was moving to New York.
I’d convinced the palace to let me stay in the U.S. as Eldorra’s royal ambassador. If an event required a royal Eldorran presence, I was the person for the job. Unfortunately, as much as I wanted to stay in D.C., most of the events took place in New York, so there I would go.
I hugged Ava the hardest and longest. Between her family drama and breakup with Alex, she’d gone through hell the past few months, and she needed extra love.
“You’ll adore London,” I said. “It’ll be a fresh start, and you have the little black book of must-visit spots I gave you.”
Ava flashed a small smile. “I’m sure I will. Thanks.” She glanced around, and I wondered if she was looking for Alex. No matter what she said, she wasn’t over him, and she probably wouldn’t be for a while.
I didn’t spot him in the crowd, but I wasn’t surprised. For a supposed genius, he could be quite the idiot. He’d said and done some hurtful things, but he cared about Ava. He was just either too stubborn or too stupid to act on it.
I made a mental note to pay him a visit before I left for New York. I was tired of waiting for him to pull his head out of his ass.
After one last round of hugs, my friends drifted off with their families until it was just me and Rhys.
My grandfather and Nikolai had wanted to come, but they canceled their trip at the last minute because of some diplomatic crisis with Italy. They were both distraught over missing my graduation, but I’d assured them it was okay.
And it was. I understood the responsibilities that came with the crown and the heir. But it didn’t mean I couldn’t wallow in a bit of self-pity.
“You ready?” Rhys asked, his tone a shade gentler than usual.
I nodded, tamping down the flicker of loneliness in my stomach as we walked to our car. Graduation, moving cities, saying goodbye to everything I’d loved for the past four years…it was too much change in too short a time.
I was so lost in my thoughts I didn’t notice we were heading into the city instead of home until I spotted the Washington Monument glowing in the distance.
“Where are we going?” I straightened in my seat. “You’re not dragging me to some warehouse so you can butcher me, are you?”
I couldn’t see Rhys’s face, but I could hear his eye roll. “If I wanted to do that, I would’ve done so the day after meeting you.”
I frowned, more insulted than reassured, but my tart reply died on my lips when he added, “Figured you wouldn’t want to stay home and order takeout on graduation night.”
I didn’t want to stay home on graduation night. It seemed so sad, but it seemed sadder to eat dinner by myself in some fancy restaurant.
I had Rhys, but he was paid to be there, and he wasn’t exactly a chatty conversationalist. And yet…he knew exactly what I needed without me uttering a word.
Another butterfly escaped in my stomach before I shoved it back into its cage.
“Where are we going, then?” I repeated my question, intrigue edging out my earlier melancholy.
He pulled up in front of a strip mall. There weren’t many of those in D.C., but this one contained all the trappings of a suburban outpost, including a Subway, a nail salon, and a restaurant named Walia.
“Best Ethiopian spot in the city.” Rhys cut the engine.