He was still sitting there, stealing small sips from his flask whenever his thoughts took him to unwanted places – which meant it was significantly lighter than it had been at the beginning of the night – when he caught a glimpse of Lady Penelope coming out of the dining room. By the sounds of chatter behind her, he gathered the dinner was over.
He leapt to his feet and power-walked upstairs, not ready to see Riley yet, or Kiara, for that matter. He reached his room, refilled his flask – I’ve got a feeling I’m gonna need it – and took a direct route into the ballroom, effectively avoiding the gift-giving ceremony.
Drake let out a sigh of relief; he really wasn’t interested in seeing a long line of beautiful women waiting eagerly to shower Liam with gifts. Least of all Riley.
It was still quite early, yet the ballroom was already packed and buzzing with excitement. This was a momentous occasion; the first time in centuries their Prince was crowned King and picked a Queen on the same evening. The events of tonight would change the course of their small country for years to come and all invited, nobles and commoners alike, were dying to witness them.
Drake attempted to look at it from that perspective, but try as he might, he could not see this objectively. He was in too deep. He stalked to a secluded corner, snatching an abandoned glass of champagne from a table on his way there, and leaned against the wall.
“Drake!”
Oh no. He didn’t think he could take Maxwell’s cheerfulness at a time like this. Not wanting to give explanations about his melancholy mood, he plastered a smile on his face.
“Hey, Maxwell!”
His friend leaned on the wall next to him.
“Wha-what is happening to your face? What are you doing?”
“Huh? My face? Oh, fuck you! I was smiling, you dick.”
Maxwell burst out laughing.
“I’m sorry! I’m just not used to it! I though maybe you were being forced or something!”
That’s not too far off… At least he could scowl freely now.
Maxwell sighed dramatically. Drake looked down at his champagne. Another sigh came, slightly louder. Drake rolled his eyes and pointedly looked away from Maxwell. The latter let out a ridiculous sigh.
“WHAT?!”
Maxwell flinched. “Nothing, I just… don’t know how I feel about this.”
“What do you mean ‘this’?”
“Riley. She seemed so nervous tonight and that’s so unlike her. I guess I wonder whether we’re pressuring her into this, you know?
A part of Drake was cheering for Maxwell. Of course she’s being pressured into this! A few months ago she was a waitress in New York! She and Liam don’t even know each other that well!
The other part of him was thinking that he would much rather get this over with; have her be Liam’s fiancée, untouchable and unattainable so he could at least try to move on.
As it was, all he could utter was a noncommittal, “I’m sure she’ll be fine.”
“I hope so because I want her to be happy but also, if she doesn’t marry Liam, it might be the end of House Beaumont,” he ended with uncharacteristic solemnity.
Damn. It’s gotta be tough being so used to being rich and then losing everything. Not to mention the pressure to live up to their lineage or whatever. Not for the first time and despite the advantages being a noble proffered, Drake was thankful he wasn’t one.
He gave Maxwell a side hug, and his friend clapped him on the back. It took very little to please Maxwell; a willing ear and a few words of encouragement and he was good as new and ready to party.
“Thanks, Drake, you always know what to say.”
Drake snorted. “Bye, Maxwell.”
“See you on the dance floor!”
He shook his head at that as Maxwell returned to his table, where Bertrand was already sitting stiffly.
Drake stood awkwardly, feeling out of place in the elegant, ornate ballroom even without his usual denim-shirt-over-a-white-t-shirt combo. The standing around and being ill at ease was par for the course for him when it came to this kind of events, but there was something different this time. Underneath the awkwardness, he felt anxious, more anxious than he ever remembered feeling.
It wasn’t very noticeable, although Liam would normally be able to tell if he weren’t so busy being infatuated. He felt a stab of bitterness at that and immediately regretted it. If anyone was in the wrong here it was him. He knew from the very beginning what the situation was, the reason she was even in Cordonia. He had absolutely no business feeling anything other than friendship towards her, at most. And yet…
The suitors’ arrival was announced and, like everybody else in the ballroom, he turned his head automatically towards the entrance. He spotted her with that laser precision that he seemed to have developed against his will. She looked stunning in a daring red dress, which she had no doubt chosen – the thought made him smile to himself – to spite Olivia.
He shook his head with a mix of amusement and annoyance. Why did she have to be this way? How could she find a way to make him laugh when she wasn’t even saying anything? But it was more than that. He couldn’t get over how brave she always was, how she always took the first step, how she pushed against the walls he’d built; walls he never thought anyone would care enough to try to break down.
At that point he interrupted his train of thought, knowing it didn’t lead anywhere pleasant. Sure, they’d had a few… moments between them, but when push came to shove, Liam would offer her a kingdom, and she would choose him, as she deserved. He couldn’t blame her. Well, a small, petty part of him could, but he tried his hardest to shove it way down deep; neither of them deserved his resentment.
A deafening sound of trumpets drowned out his musings and Liam was announced. He was dressed in his princely uniform and looked more handsome than ever. Drake felt a twinge of jealousy that was quickly overwhelmed by a rush of affection for his best friend. He has so much riding on tonight. He must be shitting himself.
Riley was getting the last word in a classic biting exchange with Olivia, before taking Liam’s hand and letting him lead the way to the dance floor. Drake watched in admiration and envy as they danced a perfect waltz. She twirled gracefully and he felt all his worst instincts, his most spiteful feelings bubble up inside him. See? She’s definitely one of them now, you idiot. I can’t believe you thought even for a second that she might choose you.
He’d been so preoccupied with the savage pleasure of giving in, of blaming her, Liam, the whole world, that he hadn’t noticed the song ending. He came back to and saw Olivia interrupt Liam and Riley’s seemingly intimate conversation. For the second time in as many days, he found himself cheering internally for one of his least favorite people. Who the hell have I become?
He drifted off again and only remembered where he was when he realized Riley was making a beeline for him.
“Riley.” The sight of her in that seductive red dress startled him into calling her by her first name.
“Drake.” She sounded just as shocked as he felt at his slip up. “I didn’t know you’d be here tonight.”
He suspected she was only saying that to fill the silence that threatened to form between them; after all, he’d been at nearly every royal event this season. This was, however, the one event he would have given up whiskey forever just to get out of. He didn’t think she understood how unbearable this was for him, but maybe he wasn’t giving her enough credit.
“Oh?” she questioned. He hated her in that moment. Why make this so much more difficult? Why pretend like she didn’t know what he was talking about, when she knew full well that she was minutes away of getting engaged to his best friend? It made him want to punch a wall to see what looked like genuine confusion on the face he’d come to know so well.
“You look exactly like one of them,” he spit out. “I guess you are one of them, now.”
He regretted the words as soon as he said them, knowing they weren’t just harsh, but unfair; she hadn’t changed at all. Maybe that was why he said it, to try to make himself believe that she was different, that she was part of that group he despised, to stop feeling this goddamn way about her.
“This time tomorrow, you might be the future queen. And then our lives are going to go in very different directions.” There. He definitely didn’t fix it, but at least he voiced a small part of his concerns, rather than hiding behind cruel comments.
“Drake, if I’m chosen to be the Prince’s bride, you’ll have to start bowing to me,” she joked in reply.
The corner of his mouth quirked up. Leave it to Addams to lighten the mood.
“Heh. The bowing, I can handle.” You being married to my best friend? Not so much. He settled for a more subtle, “But I’ll also have to attend your wedding…” Even that much crossed the line. He knew that, but he couldn’t stop himself.
“Drake…” she whispered. She lifted her hand as if to touch his arm and he shied away. If she touched him…
This was not the time or the place. He shrugged a bit, shaking himself out of it. Time to be a grown up for a change. “Forget it. You know what? I’m happy for you. If anyone deserves to live happily ever after, it’s you, Riley.”
He said this last part fervently, surprised at how much he meant it. It was nice to know that underneath all his shitty, selfish feelings, he still cared more about others’ happiness, especially her and Liam’s.
She gave him a small smile and, stubborn as always, reached for his arm. “If I get too cocky, just remind me that the first time we met, I was taking out the garbage and waiting tables.”
“Feels like so long ago, now. Can’t believe it’s only been a few months.” To think he’d just seen her as “the cute waitress” at first, and then Liam’s suitor, and then, unfortunately, everything he wanted in a girl.
Riley’s smile was dreamy. “Yeah. But after everything that’s happened, it feels more like once upon a time…”
“Spare me, Addams. Fairy tales are for kids.” He’d learned that a long time ago. Cinderella would never fit in with the nobles, no matter how badly she wanted to and commoners didn’t get the girl, not matter how “noble” their heart.
Riley let go of his arm. “I suppose you’re right. Life here isn’t all sparkles and fairy godmothers.”
She looked so downcast in admitting this, so different from the enthusiastic, carefree girl that he’d judged her to be too soon. It wasn’t that she’d changed, it was that he knew her now, in all her amazing complexity. Because she was that joyful girl. Yet she was also kind, sad, perceptive, afraid, spontaneous, decisive…
Still, all he’d wanted when she had arrived in Cordonia was for her to be careful, to not let the glitz and glamour blind her to the nobles’ other, uglier face. And he’d done it. The one thing he’d succeeded at was getting her to believe him. Of course, it had cost him getting closer to her and developing that stupid crush, but at least she might be safe now.
“I’m glad you’re seeing it for what it is.”
“It’s nice to get a chance to talk to you tonight.”
Her hand was back on his arm and her smile was so sincere he felt his chest swell. How could she be glad to talk to him when practically the first thing he’d done tonight was insult her?
I am so consistently an asshole.
“Riley, I…”
“What is it?”
How do I apologize for everything I’m still feeling?
“I…”
“There you guys are!” came Hana’s voice from behind Riley.
She looked much more cheerful than before. In fact, if Drake hadn’t known she’d been upset earlier, he never would’ve guessed from the dazzling smile she gave him and Riley.
Maxwell, who was just behind Hana and also seemed less worried than before, took a long look at Drake. His eyebrows shot up. “Whoa, Drake dressed up.”
Drake shook his head at him, incredulous that they’d had a whole conversation during which Maxwell hadn’t noticed him wearing a suit. He was just about to comment something about Maxwell’s observational skills or lack thereof, when a waltz started playing.
He glanced at Liam, expecting him to come claim Riley, but he was immediately snatched by Madeleine. Drake pumped his fist down discreetly.
He felt a warm hand envelop his open hand and looked up to see Riley biting her bottom lip.
“Drake, may I have this dance?”
Drake looked around, as if making sure no other Drakes were standing nearby. “Me? I thought I told you, I don’t know how to waltz.”
Once again he felt torn between desperately wanting to spend time with her, even if it meant dancing, and dread at having to let her go when the song finished.
He would have slowly come to the conclusion that the eventual pain would be worth it, but he forgot who he was talking to; Riley was much faster that he was and she got what she wanted.
“Then you can follow my lead.”
She pulled him gently by the hand to the dance floor. The hand that wasn’t holding hers hovered hesitantly over her waist, not daring to touch her in front of all these people… in front of Liam, even if he wasn’t looking.
Riley placed his hand firmly on her waist and led him, so that he could pretend to lead her. Despite her direction, Drake was too concentrated on not tripping or stepping on her to enjoy these scarce moments in which he was allowed to be so close to her.
“Is this right?”
She was looking up at him and he could swear she’d never looked more beautiful. “It’s perfect. You’re doing great. Just relax.”
Usually, he would’ve rolled his eyes at advice as trite as “just relax” but it was accompanied by such a charming smile that it made him forget about absolutely everything. For that moment, they could just be Drake and Addams, dancing. It’s like every shitty cliché is true.
He smiled at that and loosened his shoulders, which he didn’t realize he’d been tensing. Feeling more at ease, he finally paid some attention to his companion. He’d seen her dance before, of course, though only ever from an outsiders perspective. Yet he didn’t know whether it was because she was dancing in his arms, but he was suddenly struck by how graceful she was.
“You’re… you’re really good at this, Addams.”
She arched an eyebrow. “I’m good at this? Don’t sound so surprised! You have seen me dance before, haven’t you?”
“I must not’ve been paying attention.”
He smirked a little. I’m such a liar. Practically all he’d been doing for months now was paying attention to her, her every word, gesture and move. Of course he’d paid attention! He just hadn’t dared imagine himself dancing with her and holding her like this, in front of the whole court. In front of Liam. It was enough to make him want to picture what it could be like if…
But no, what was the use in daydreaming impossible things? He’d have plenty of time to do that once she was his best friend’s fiancée and therefore strictly off-limits.
“You should give me a little credit,” she said tilting her head.
Ha, do I. It was actually hard now to remember how little credit he’d given her when she first arrived in Cordonia, how he’d assumed he knew better. Who’d have thought she would end up teaching him so much more about friendship, trust… even alcohol!
“I do! It’s just… I didn’t realize.”
“You should twirl me now.”
Drake, who had found a rhythm he felt safe in, was caught off guard, “Huh?”
“Twirl me! Just lift you arm, and I’ll do the rest.”
He obliged, lifting his arm for her to twirl beneath. She executed a perfect spin that made her dress billow out, showing glimpses of her legs. Her hair whipped around and he caught a whiff of her floral perfume.
“That was…” was all he could say, eyes wide.
“Why Drake, you look impressed.” It was her turn to smirk.
“You always seem to impress me, Addams,” he said truthfully. It’s all she’s ever done.
The terrible moment he’d anticipated since before they’d started dancing came; the song was over. He dropped his hands as if she’d burned him, knowing this would be the last time he’d get to be that close to her. He couldn’t meet her eyes.
“Well, Addams. I guess I should thank you for the dance.”
She straightened his jacket playfully, “We’ll make a gentleman of you yet.”
He chuckled. If someone had said that to him months ago, he would’ve been skeptical, maybe even offended. But now, with her, it didn’t seem like such a far-fetched possibility. Hell, I dressed up tonight.
They walked back to where Maxwell and Hana were standing as waiters brought out trays upon trays of small, elegant appetizers.
Maxwell, a sheen of sweat already on his forehead – What the hell? It was a waltz!– waited for them only long enough to say, “Mmm! Ready to hit the hors d’oeuvres table?”
“I’d love to,” agreed Hana.
Drake threw his head back. “Great, more fancy finger food.”
Hana rolled her eyes at him. Huh. I don’t think she’d ever done that before. Well, she did learn from the best. “It’ll be fun! Come on!”
Hana took his arm and all but dragged him to the table, Riley following close behind, laughing.
Maxwell was going up and down the table, inspecting every option. “Man, these look fancy! Think these’ll stack up to the appetizers we made?”
“Only one way to find out,” said Riley, grabbing one of the hors d’oeuvres.
“Oh, the marinated chicken skewer. Excellent choice,” approved Hana.
Riley ate it all in one bite and closed her eyes in delight. “Okay, it’s delicious…”
“But nothing compared to our caviar and paprika creation!” exclaimed Maxwell, giving her finger guns.
Hana was bemused. “You guys still haven’t really explained why you were the ones making the appetizers that day.”
There was a short, awkward pause. Riley glanced at Drake, and he was pleased to see they were on the same page: it was not their secret to tell.
Riley broke the silence before it got too obvious, “House Beaumont personally ensures quality.”
Drake noticed Maxwell shoot Riley a grateful smile.
“Oh, a very hands-on approach to everything?” admired Hana. “They say that all the best restaurants are run that way.”
Drake cleared his throat, feeling a little guilty for hiding this from Hana, but if Maxwell wasn’t ready, he wasn’t ready. “That’s us… practically a Michelin-star restaurant…”
“Well, one can’t argue with the results!” replied Hana.
“Yeah, and there’s no one I trust more that Riley and Drake when it comes to… basically anything.” Maxwell put his arms around him and Riley.
“Heh. Thanks, Maxwell.” Riley leaned her head on his shoulder.
“Thanks, buddy,” said Drake, clapping his back.
He was surprised to realize that he trusted Maxwell too, much more than he would’ve thought. For so many years, Liam and Bastien had been the only two people he could trust… and Savannah, of course, but what kind of big brother would burden his little sister with his problems? And now… he’d made friends. Hell, I have so much to thank Addams for.
Hana looked at each of them in turn. “I’m going to miss you three.”
Oh. Right. He’d made friends and one of them was already leaving.
Maxwell lowered his arms. “Miss us?”
Drake was unsure where he stood in this situation. Was it okay that he already knew or should he keep quiet?
Hana sighed. “Lady Riley already knows this, but…” Okay, so I should keep my mouth shut. “Tonight’s my last night at court. My parents have officially called me home. I must depart tomorrow morning.” Hana’s voice wavered a bit, but she had admirable control over herself.
“That sucks!” Maxwell enveloped Hana in a bear hug, completely obscuring her from view, though they could hear her giggling.
Maxwell stepped back and Hana reemerged, her hair the tiniest bit disheveled.
Drake’s eyes met hers, which were watery. “I’m really sorry to see you go, Hana.” He squeezed her hand.
She squeezed back and said, “Thanks, Drake.”
In the most Maxwell of bright sides, Maxwell suggested, “But hey… if this is your last night here, then you’ve got nothing left to lose!”
Hana grimaced, “Except my dignity.”
Maxwell replied with, “Dignity is overrated,” at the same time as Drake mouthed it to Riley. He knew his friend well. Riley snorted.
“Maxwell…” Hana said, uncertain, but tempted.
“I’m just saying… you know how people are always saying ‘party like there’s no tomorrow’? Well, for you, there really is no tomorrow. So we should really paaaaaaarty!” Maxwell cupped his hands in order to more efficiently yell “party”.
Hana twisted her hands. “I don’t know…”
Maxwell elbowed her lightly. “Come on. There must be a few things that you’ve been dying to do since you came here.”
Hana bit her lip, but a smile was forming on her face. “Well… There are a few things I never checked off my list… but I don’t know…”
“It’’l be fun for all of us…” Riley encouraged her.
Hana’s eyes shone once she heard Riley agree. “Well… okay! What should we do first?”
Oh, Hana, always eager to please. Her parents really did a number on her.
Riley voiced his thoughts, “Tonight should be about what you want to do. Let’s make some memories.”
Hana took a moment to think about what she wanted to do, then said, “It’d be nice to have a special moment with each of you.” She turned to look at him. “Drake, my last moment with you should definitely involve whiskey.”
He grinned, “Now I like where this is going. What did you have in mind?”
Hana took a deep breath as if to strengthen her resolve. “I want to have a shot of whiskey with you.”
“I’m sold.”
“But not the bar’s whiskey,” she added. “Your whiskey.”
Drake’s mouth fell open.
Riley was grinning now. “You heard her.”
“You want me to share my ‘break in case of emergency’ whiskey? I’m not sure Hana can handle it.”
“Come on…” Riley poked him. “She’s tougher than she looks.”
Drake already knew that. It was really not a matter of Hana’s tolerance for alcohol, it was about him surviving this goddamned event.
“Why do I have a bad feeling about this…” He scratched his neck, stalling so he could picture how much whiskey he had left and how much he could afford to share.
“Drake…” said Hana expectantly.
He stretched his arms, as if inviting them to search him. “Who’s to say I even have whiskey on me? This is a formal event.”
Riley snorted. “Drake…” Her voice was a warning.
“Okay, okay!” He reached inside his jacket and pulled out his full flask. Hana passed him two shot glasses from the table. He filled them both and gave one to Hana.
“None for the rest of us?” Maxwell pouted.
“This is why I never wanted friends,” he grumbled in response, as he set his shot down and Riley passed his two more.
He filled them generously and distributed them. Well, what the hell. It’s Hana’s last night. He did, however, make sure he had a sip or two left for himself, for emergencies.
“Here,” he put his shot at the center of their little circle. “To you, Hana.”
They all drank. Hana was the only one who sputtered.
“That’s strong,” was all she could manage, her voice hoarse.
Drake laughed. “Of course. It’s my personal stash. You think I’d get the weak stuff?”
Hana coughed before speaking, her voice returning to its usual sweetness. “You know, Drake, you’re far nicer than you let on. I’m going to miss you.”
She came forward and hugged him. He found himself hugging her back before he had time to register what was happening. He didn’t think anyone had ever called him nice before.
“Hell, I’ll miss you too. You’re nothing like the other nobles.” I’ve been misjudging left and right this season.
Hana let go so he could make eye contact with him. Her eyes were full of unshed tears and Drake realized that he was not too far from that himself. “Thanks, Drake. That means a lot.”
He cleared his throat, aware that his voice would sound choked if he spoke. “Okay, that’s about all the sentimentality I can handle for one night. Good luck, Hana.”
He hurried away from them, overcome with a confusing mixture of feelings. I miss when I had the emotional range of a teaspoon. The problem with that was, though, that now that he’d been having feelings, he was frequently overwhelmed by them due to his lack of experience. He exhaled, searching for something to do.
He saw Kiara standing and talking to Penelope. As he watched, the latter was asked to dance by some noble he couldn’t quite place, leaving Kiara standing alone. He knew he wouldn’t have much time before somebody else demanded the attention of the attractive woman, so he strode over to her.
“Wanna dance?”
“Mon Dieu, you have some nerve,” she snapped, although she gave him her hand.
They moved to dance floor and Drake couldn’t help but compare this to his waltz with Riley earlier. Kiara was not looking at him but smiling a rather artificial smile out at the crowd. Because she was more concerned with looking good herself, she wasn’t bothering to help Drake’s beginner’s feet with the rhythm. As a result, Drake could barely keep up, which was why he spent the first few seconds in silence.
“So? I assume you didn’t ask me to dance so you could show off your amazing moves,” she sneered.
Drake felt his neck grow hot. Okay, I totally deserved that.
“You assume right. I wanted to apologize for yesterday.”
Kiara stayed silent and met his eye; he took this as his cue to continue.
“Look, you’re a beautiful, intelligent woman. Any man would be–”
“Do not say lucky, Drake. What I want to know is how you could humiliate me the way you did last night.”
There was real hurt in her eyes, which only made him feel guiltier. He looked down at his stumbling feet.
“You’re right. You deserve better than meaningless platitudes, even if they are true. I’m sorry about last night. I can’t say much more than that. I was drunk, but that’s no excuse. What it boils down to is, there’s someone else. And I shouldn’t have tried anything with you knowing that. So I’m sorry.”
There was a long pause. Drake felt himself starting to sweat, whether from the dance or the nerves, he couldn’t tell.
“Well. At the very least that is an adult apology. I… forgive you, Drake. I must admit, I was no fit state to make decisions either, so you may have saved us both a lot of regret. Thank you for being honest with me.”
“And for the dance,” she added as the music finished. She bowed her head curtly and hastened toward Olivia.
Drake stood on the dance floor for a second or two, relieved at her accepting his apology and still feeling remnants of guilt. He felt someone clap his back.
“Was that Lady Kiara I just saw dancing with you?” asked Liam coyly.
Drake rolled his eyes at his friend. “It’s not like that.” If he only knew how not like that it is…
“If you say so…” said Liam, sounding unconvinced.
“So how’re you holding up?” Although he was clearly eager to change the subject, Drake was also sincere in wanting to know.
“I am actually… fine. I feel so much better than I have all season. I believe it is because I’m relieved it all ends tonight.”
“Yeah, I can imagine. So you’re definitely choosing…?”
“Riley,” said Liam resolutely, with a nod and a smile.
Drake’s stomach feel to his knees. He hadn’t realized he’d been holding out dumb, pointless hope that Liam might choose somebody else until that moment. Are you kidding me? You knew this from day one, you fucking idiot.
He hastily turned his grimace into a smile and replied, “Yep, yeah, thought so. That’s great. Amazing. Can’t wait! Future Queen of Cordonia Riley Addams.” His voice caught. He swallowed. “Nice ring to it.”
“If she says yes.” Liam was still smiling, but Drake knew him well enough to see the legitimate worry in his eyes.
He snorted. “Come on, Liam. In what world would a girl turn you down? She’ll say yes, okay? I’m 100% sure. In fact, I’ll bet you 50 pushups, that’s how sure I am. You guys… deserve each other.”
Liam chuckled. “Well, if the price to pay is 50 pushup I will gladly do them. Thank you, Drake. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I promised Lady Penelope the next dance.”
Drake waved his friend off and looked towards the bar. It was incredibly crowded. He took out his flask and drained the meager residue of whiskey he had left in one gulp. This is it. I knew I would need my whiskey.
He remembered then an outdoor bar he’d snuck away to a few times during parties like this. Sometimes with Liam, sometimes alone when the Prince couldn’t escape his duties. It that was usually empty because it was tucked away from the ballroom. His feet started taking him there automatically.
Sure enough, the bar was blessedly empty, with the downside of not having a bartender either. Oh well, what am I, a noble? I can pour my own drinks.
He’d just sat down on one of the stools, perusing the bottles behind the bar, when he heard footsteps.
“Can we talk?”
He should’ve expected Riley to follow him; it was basically what she’d been doing ever since they’d met and had even slipped her way through his walls. He sighed and gestured at the empty seat next to his.
“Go ahead. You know I’m always willing to talk to you.” Now that’s something I’d never said before! “What’s a guy gotta do to get a drink around here?” he added, looking around the deserted bar.
“Well, lucky for you,” said Riley, already standing up, “in addition to being a waitress, I took a turn or two are the bar whenever the occasion called for it.”
She walked behind the bar and took out a cocktail shaker. She knows how to make drinks? I never stood a chance.
“You’re gonna make me a drink?”
“The best you’ve ever had,” she replied, cocky. “Now, let’s get started. First we need something sour.” She looked under the bar and pulled out a bottle. “Apple cider vinegar. Sour, just like you.”
She stuck her tongue out at him and poured the liquid into the shaker. So mature.
He chuckled. “Thanks.”
“I’m only teasing,” she winked. “Next, something down-to-earth. Orange juice.”
She took the carton out and poured a lot more juice than she had vinegar.
“Alright…”
“And then we top it off with… A double shot of whiskey,” she beamed at him as she grabbed the bottle from behind her and poured it generously.
“Now you’re talking,” he beamed back as she shook the cocktail vigorously. “You know, you could’ve just poured me whiskey on the rocks and I would’ve been a happy man.”
She put her hands on her hips. “And where would the fun be in that? Now, are you ready for the final result?”
“Never been more ready.”
She took a glass from under the bar and poured the drink into it. She slid it to Drake, who took a small sip. He had to admit, it was delicious. The apple cider vinegar accentuated the apple-like taste of the whiskey, while the orange juice softened the burn and left a sweet aftertaste.
“Well?” She looked adorably anxious as she waited for his verdict.
Drake toasted his glass to hers. “I could get used to this.”
She smirked and poured herself a glass before coming back around the bar and sitting next to him again.
“Done playing bartender?”
“Last customer didn’t even leave a tip!” she said with a frown.
Drake patted his pockets pretending to look for something. “Sorry. Must’ve left my wallet in my other fancy jacket.”
She giggled. Then, sobering up, she looked him straight in the eye and said in a low voice, “Speaking of which, you look handsome.”
Drake was blushing so goddamned much, the thought made him blush even more. He stared at his shoes and mumbled, “I mean, I know I’m no Prince Liam…”
He couldn’t pretend he wasn’t pleased she’d noticed. After all, he had done it for her and he had reached the point where he could admit that, at least to himself.
She touched his hand and waited for him to look up. “You clean up good, Drake.”
There was something in her voice – Is it a little more raspy than usual? – that made him believe her.
“Thanks.”
“And here I thought you said you’d only dress up if there was someone you wanted to impress.” She said it as a statement, but he could hear the question behind it.
I shouldn’t say anything but… what the hell, this is our last conversation with her being single.
He licked his lips. “Yeah, well… I guess maybe I found someone worth impressing.”
“Drake…” Her thumb rubbed his hand softly and he looked at their them before removing his. We’re running out of time.
“If only for tonight.” He turned towards the bar and took another sip of his drink. “Anyway. I’m glad we were able to have a few minutes out here together. Thanks for the drink, Addams.”
She might have sensed his intention to leave, because the words tumbled out of her mouth, “Hey, you’re always calling me by my last name… and I don’t even know yours.”
He scoffed, “And you consider us to be friends.”
“I do. So tell me.”
“What is it with you and prying into my life? Can’t you let a man keep a few walls up?” He tried to say it light-heartedly, but he knew the real frustration behind the question bled into his tone. If she hadn’t been so goddamned nosy and caring, asking about Savannah and shit, I wouldn’t be in this mess.
She raised an impatient eyebrow at his outburst, “I think we’re a little bit beyond these games by now. Come on, tell me.”
He sighed in defeat. “If you must know… it’s Walker.”
“Walker, huh? I guess I’d better start calling you Walker.”
“Oh, no…” He put his head in his hands.
“What’s wrong, Walker?” she punched his arm. “Turnabout’s fair play!”
“Calling you by your last name is my thing,” he pointed at her accusingly.
“Too bad, Walker,” she said between laughs.
He shrugged, “Fine, I guess I can start calling you Riley.”
Her eyes widened in horror, as if she hadn’t considered the possibility of him saying that. “It just sounds weird now to hear you say that!”
“See?”
She put her hands up. “Okay, okay. Drake it is.”
He took a long sip from his drink, more to have something to do than anything else. His previous desire to leave had vanished. It was enough for now to be sitting here with her, and he intended to savor it.
“I wanted to ask…” she broke the silence, “it seemed like you were about to say something earlier?”
Right, he owed her an apology. He gave himself a moment to think on how to phrase it. He didn’t want to apologize for his feelings, not anymore. It wasn’t wrong that he felt them – they couldn’t be wrong, not when Riley was such a wonderful person – it would be wrong, however, if he acted on them after tonight.
At length, he spoke, “I was going to say that I was wrong. No matter what happens tonight… Crown or no crown, engaged or… not. You’re still you.”
Riley looked dubious. It was clear his comment had really got to her. “Weren’t you just telling me how I’m one of them now?”
This time, he touched her hand, wanting to take away the pain he’d caused. “I was being an idiot. I shouldn’t have said that. I knew it as soon as the words were out of my mouth. You didn’t deserve that.”
She moved his hand away from his. “Drake, is that as close as you come to an apology?”
Even that she presented as a challenge. He loved that about her. She challenged him to do stuff, big and small. Here, he was challenging him to be better.
He smiled at her softly. “You don’t let me get away with anything, do you? Lady Riley Addams, I’m sorry. I was out of line.”
Although said in a jokey manner, there was real feeling behind the apology and she appeared to hear it, because she replied with a genuine, “Thank you.”
Drake decided to elaborate. If she was going to be part of her life as a friend for the foreseeable future, he better start practicing talking to her like a friend.“It’s just… in that moment, when I saw you at the ball…”
He hesitated, wondering how best to explain this so she could understand him. “You reminded me of Savannah. How she was the last night we went out with the nobles, at that party. She was so happy in her fancy gown, with her hair all done up. So hopeful. She lit up the entire room.” An unconscious smile spread across his face as he remembered Savannah’s giddiness that night, how long she’d spent getting ready.
“She really believed she’d made it. That she was one of them.” He stared at his balled fists. “And I still don’t even know what happened to her, what made her leave. But it was bad. It was something that broke her. I’ll never forget how devastated she looked the day before she disappeared. She looked… hopeless. Like she’d given up.”
He looked up at her, remembering their conversation from the night before and worrying he might have brought up traumatic memories for her in speaking of this. Her eyes, however, were full of empathy for him and she reached for his hand once more.
Reassured, he continued, “And when I looked at you tonight… I couldn’t stop myself from imagining the same thing happening to you. This place seems shiny and wonderful, but the truth is, it breaks people, Addams. I don’t ever want to see you broken.”
He squeezed her hand, hoping she could feel how much he cared, how afraid he was for her.
“Drake,” she said gently, “I’m not Savannah.”
He intertwined their fingers, feeling a thrill at the pit of his stomach. “Believe me, I know that. You’re stronger than she ever was. If anyone can survive this place… it’s you.”
“Well, I don’t know about that,” she said modestly. “But I did want to thank you properly. For yesterday.”
He hadn’t been sure she remembered, as she had been drunk too. He’d really wanted to make sure she didn’t regret sharing such a deeply personal memory with him, but he hadn’t known how to ask.
“You have nothing to thank me for. If anything, I should thank you for, y’know, trusting me and…”
He trailed off. He’d thought about thanking her for showing him what real strength looked like, but didn’t know how she’d take it. At minimum, she would deny being strong, as she had done a moment ago. Mostly, though, he didn’t want her to feel pressured or like she had to be strong all the time. He wanted to be the person that she came to at times like yesterday, when she need to be… not weak, but vulnerable for a moment.
It was no exaggeration to say she was the strongest person he knew, along with Liam, maybe. Another reason they belonged together. The way they could go through life with so much pain and such deep wounds, and use that to be kinder to others? It blew his mind.
He ran his fingers though his hair. “Hell, Addams. My life would’ve been so much easier if I could’ve just hated you. I–”
He sighed. He couldn’t. She was minutes away from being his best friend’s fiancée. He really should leave. He looked down at their hands, completely unwilling to stop holding hers.
She touched her chin so he would raise his gaze. “What were you thinking just now?”
To hell with it.
“I was thinking… if this is the last time I’m going to be alone with you before you’re an engaged woman… I’d be a damned fool not to kiss you.”
For a moment, she looked shocked and he thought she might slap him or something. Then she leaned in and whispered, “Drake, kiss me now.”
He took the back of her head and pulled her the rest of the way to him. He felt her lips again, so soft against his and he realized he had been wanting this every waking second ever since the first time they’d kissed a couple of days ago. It was hard to believe it had only been that long; every minute since then seemed wasted.
He felt her tongue on his bottom lip and had to force back a groan of pleasure. This could get out of control very fast. He pulled away. She pouted and he laughed a little, trying to hang on to the feeling of pure happiness he was experiencing.
“Addams… I want to remember this. Right here. I don’t want to know what happens next. I just want to stay in this moment here with you.”
He brushed her hair behind her ear and she breathed, “Drake…”
She crashed her lips to his and this time there was no stopping her, not that Drake had really wanted to. Her tongue entered his mouth and he met it with his. Their lips moved in sync as she ran her fingers through his hair and he held the back of her head. Her teeth grazed his bottom lip and he let out the groan he’d repressed before. He tried to pull her closer, letting his hands travel down her back. She made a move as if to straddle him when–
“Where’s the bartender?”
The jumped apart and turned to the door. Penelope, Kiara and other partygoers were coming into the bar.
“More champagne!” Kiara was yelling, all dignity left behind.
The only thing Drake could find to be thankful for in this situation was that everyone was so drunk and wrapped up in partying that they hadn’t noticed he and Riley making out.
He realized their hands were still intertwined on his lap and let go sheepishly. “Looks like the party found us.”
She sighed sadly. “It’s not really a night where you can get any privacy, is it?”
He fought against every instinct to say, “You’d better head back inside.”
She stood up and looked back. “What about you?”
“I’ll be out here until…” he gulped down his drink, “it’s time.”
If it hadn’t been for yesterday, he would use this time to get as drunk as humanly possible. He wasn’t about to do that again, though, so he just finished his drink and sat there, numb.