He hums, staring at the ceiling, too much going on behind his usually bright blue eyes. “Is this what it’s always like for you?”
That’s a hard question to answer. “In a way. While I was at Cambridge no one really gave a shit who I was, except for the few people I already knew to keep my distance from. In Amsterdam,I was able to blend in with the crowd, mostly, but here … the States are a world of their own. Gossip is currency, and being heir to an enormous fortune apparently makes me a somebody … when it’s all bullshit.”
“Bullshit?” He slants a teasing grin my way. “You mean I’m not marrying a future prince? Should I call the wedding off now?”
I whack him with my pillow. “I’d like to see you try.”
“Prince Émile Cromwell.”
“None of that, thank you.”
“Are you going to take me to your country estate for tea and biscuits before disrobing me and plundering my flower?”
“Do us both a favor and never attempt a British accent again.”
“What? That was great, innit?”
Since the pillow thing didn’t work on him, I decide to try and smother myself with it instead. “Make it stop.”
“Huh, lad? We in a bloody bit of a pickle here, ain’t we?”
“I have no clue which part of Britain that’s supposed to be from, but I can assure you it’s none of them.”
“Would you like some scones?”
That’sit.I toss the pillow off and pounce on him. “Eat another burger, you ridiculous American.”
“Oh,no, right where it hurts.”
We wrestle back and forth, throwing out the most stereotypical, clichéd crap at each other, and it’s when Christian gets me pinned, naked body pressing mine into the mattress, that I realize he’s laughing.
It fills my chest with this unexpected warmth. “See? Almost back to normal.”
The smile slips from his face. “How the fuck am I going to go back out there?”
“Presumedly the same way you always do.”
“You don’t get it.” He collapses, face back in that glorious place in my neck. “Josie saw everything.”
“Your cousin?” It’s the first time he’s mentioned that.
“I think that’s why I was so nervous. She showed up, and I wanted to do good, but I fucked up under the pressure. And now I’m worried I’ve ruined it for the whole team. Do you know we’ve had some really good reviews this week? Reece mentioned possible investors. That’s, like, a dream. For all of us, and thanks to me, it might not even be an option anymore.”
While Christian slept last night, I bought tickets to today’s performance. I was going to surprise him by sitting in the audience, giving him the comfort that someone he knew was there for him. Turns out I read that wrong.
“If one person is enough to take all that away, it was never there to begin with. You’re not the only one on that stage.”
His face reappears, frown weighing it down. “That’s true, but I’m the only one who ruined the show.”
“All publicity is good publicity. I can’t imagine what you went through, especially because you’re prone to being embarrassed at the drop of a hat, but these things have a way of working themselves out.”
“I guess we’ll see …”
He still doesn’t look totally convinced, but it’s not the kind of thing you believe simply because someone’s told you. Theeverything will be okayplatitude is an empty one, because frequently everything isnotokay. But I have a feeling in this case, it will be. And he’ll believe it once it happens.
“For what it’s worth, I’m very impressed you’re going back today.”
He pulls a face and rolls off me to climb out of bed. I take a moment to drink in that perfect round arse before he pulls on a pair of underwear. “Yeah, well, Reece messaged me approximately a hundred times last night, and then again thismorning, threatening to send me out in assless chaps if I didn’t show up.”