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With his lips.

I move back a few inches, but he has his eyes closed, so he doesn’t notice. Collision is impending. There are cameras everywhere.

So, I take a deep breath like I’m about to go underwater, and I let his lips meet mine.

And god, it feels like I’m sixteen again. He tastes just like he used to. I can remember how totally head over heels I was about him. How, the first time he kissed me, he was holding my hand, and he squeezed it tighter and tighter without realizing because he was so nervous.

He’s not nervous now.

He used to kiss me in the yard, while we watched the sun go down. Then he would tell me he’d never felt like this about anyone in his life.

He used to kiss me during movies, until we’d both burst into giggles and promise each other we were going to payattention to the screen, only to be lost in each other within seconds.

He used to kiss me on the forehead whenever Mom came to pick me up from his house, gently, like he was afraid he might never see me again.

He used to kiss Skye while messaging me, telling me how much he missed me, and how excited he was to see me again.

Skye.

Her lips are so much nicer than his. Softer. When she kisses me, it feels like the stars are falling out of the atmosphere, and landing around us in a spray of glitter and dust.

It’s nothing like this.

This is just two mouths meeting in the middle.

I pull away, and pretend to blush when I “notice” the cameras. Everyone laughs, and, finally, they agree to pack up and leave us.

Pros: no more performative kissing.

Cons: it’s time to be alone with Jordy for real. And I don’t think I can be held accountable for what happens when I get him alone.

The suite they’ve booked for us is a two-bedroom one, thank god. Once we’ve changed into comfortable clothes, I turn the heater on and grab a beer and a hard seltzer from the generously stocked bar fridge we’ve been told to go nuts on. A part of me wonders if Isaac got the seltzer in there because he’s heard me complaining about wine. Who says he’s never done anything for me?

I hand the beer to Jordy, then settle in on the sofa.

“So,” I say, cracking open my can. “This is the first time we’ve talked without an audience over the last five weeks.”

“It is indeed.”

“Spill,” I say.

Jordy gives me a confused smile. “Spill about what?”

“What’s it really like, to have a sister who’s dating royalty? The unscripted version?”

He laughs, then takes a swig of beer. “Oh, man. Time to do this, is it?”

“Yeah, time to do this.”

He tosses his head from side to side. “It hasn’t affected me as much as you’d think. I reckon I got the long end of the stick. It’s weird to have the paparazzi stalking you wherever you go, but, you get used to it. At least, I have. And I’m loving all the charity work. I think I was made for that, you know? It suits me.”

I fight to keep a straight face. “Totally.”

“It’s been an adjustment for Sam. She’s had to uproot her whole life, you know? But the royal family is pretty chilled out here, nothing like in England or whatever. They ride bikes into town on Saturdays and pick out their own truffles at the farmer’s market. Really down-to-earth stuff like that.”

“Might as well be working class.”

“Almost! We don’t see them that often. I mean, Sam comes to visit us a bit still, but it’s not like we’re going for dinners at the palace every Friday night.” He grins. “Don’t tell Lauren.”