Page 58 of Awestruck (Starstruck Love Stories #4)
He’s playing the older brother role surprisingly well given the shock we both got from the news about our shared parent.
But I’m more interested in his solution than his worry about my relationship.
A decent number of people would dislike the idea of a new queen changing the constitution so thoroughly, but I’m going to guess a lot of the common class would see it as a change toward modernity.
As I observed during Freya’s campaign tour, that’s what Candora needs.
“Freya was right,” I mutter as I start running through the possibilities of Derek’s suggestion. What a balance of power could do to help not just our situation, but Candora as a whole.
He lifts an eyebrow. “About what?”
“You really do have a solution to everything.”
As he rolls his eyes, I make my way to the door to Freya’s sitting room and knock gently before stepping inside. My eyes scan the room until I find Freya on the couch between two dark-haired women, and only after she smiles at me do I pay attention to her friends.
The woman on Freya’s right is Bonnie. I’ve seen her in a few movies, and Freya told me during one of our many recent conversations that Bonnie and Derek used to be an item, but their relationship was strictly for publicity.
I don’t know much about her, but Bonnie doesn’t suit a guy like Derek.
He needs someone pushy enough to force him to lower his mask now and then.
The woman on Freya’s left is young—probably early twenties—but there’s something in the way she studies me while I study her that makes me think she’s not the sort of person anyone should mess with.
Kasey, I think. Freya said that Kasey is an incredibly talented screenwriter and will have a movie coming out soon, so she fits right in with the actors.
Liam, a musician I’m familiar with because my old comrade Bax is a major fan, is sound asleep on the opposite couch, his feet over the arm and his head on the lap of another man who is either annoyed by the situation or amused as he writes something in a notebook.
I can’t actually tell because his expression is soft and muted, except when he smiles at Bonnie.
That must be Hank, Bonnie’s fiancé. I owe him one for asking Freya about having kids with Grimstad because that might have been the first time she really thought about what she wanted instead of what was best for Candora.
Namely, having kids with me instead.
“Was there something you needed, Mr. Reid?” Freya asks, a knowing glint in her eyes.
I keep my expression neutral despite some of the things running through my imagination right now. “I’m sorry for the interruption, Your Highness, but you’re needed for a moment in the Perseid Hall.”
My made-up name for a non-existent room in the castle seems to throw her for a second, but then she smiles and rises to her feet. “I will return shortly,” she tells her friends. They all look too jet-lagged to respond, and Hank is the only one who watches her move to the door.
His gaze catches on mine, and he smiles and nods. Like he’s giving me permission.
I nod back, wondering how much he knows, then shut the door behind us.
Derek takes one look at the two of us and groans, rolling his eyes. “Are you both fifteen?”
“Meaning what?” I ask as I take Freya’s hand, lacing our fingers together.
“You look like you’re about to sneak under the bleachers during a pep rally.”
Freya furrows her brow, confused, but I snort out a laugh. “No one actually goes to pep rallies, Derek. You only went to, what? Two years of high school before Hollywood found you?”
He grits his teeth, and it seems to pain him when he admits, “Year and a half.” It’s a miracle he turned out as normal as he did when he has spent half his life as a celebrity.
I grin. “No one’s high school experience is like the movies. But…” Turning to Freya, I quickly kiss her temple before tugging her toward the door to the corridor. “I’ll gladly give you a crash course on janitor closets, Princess.”
“Poll results will start being reported in an hour!” Derek calls after us.
I have to let go of Freya’s hand when we leave the room so we can walk at a normal, unsuspicious pace, which is unfortunate because the princess immediately starts wringing her hands.
Derek deserves a punch in the jaw for reminding her about the ongoing election when she seemed to be handling her nerves before now.
As we pass a few guards in search of somewhere private, I have to lock my hands behind my back to keep from touching her.
“Don’t think about it,” I tell her as gently as I can.
“Ha!” She runs her hands down the front of her blouse. “Do not think about the most important day of my life? Yes, that is great advice, El. I will do that.”
“It’s going to be okay.”
“You don’t know that.”
Maybe not, but I know Freya. She did everything she could under the circumstances. If Grimstad had decided to run sooner, she would have had a better chance to show the people who she really is and interact with more of them, but he didn’t.
Which is why I am determined to distract her.
I have no idea which room I pull Freya into, only that it isn’t one we’re likely to be interrupted in.
The staff have been instructed to keep away from the family wing as much as possible, and Freya’s family have mostly kept to themselves the last couple of days.
Hex has been avoiding Agent Storme, who seems to have a score to settle with the prince, and Sander has been avoiding Hex for reasons I haven’t taken the time to figure out, and the king and queen have been spending whatever time they can on their own and seem to be more than ready to hand over their roles to someone new so they can take a breath.
It’s just the princess and me, alone in what I quickly realize is the royal castle equivalent of a janitor’s closet.
Chuckling, I take in all the cleaning supplies. For a closet, the room is almost bigger than the bedroom I had as a kid. “What are the odds?” I mutter.
Unfortunately, Freya doesn’t see the humor in the situation, her shoulders taut with anxiety as she starts pacing the space in front of me. She’s going to make herself dizzy if she keeps it up, and I hate seeing her like this. “Elliot,” she breathes, like a plea. “What if—”
“You have two choices right now, Rapunzel.” My eyes jump to her hair like they always do when I call her that.
I’m pretty sure Runa is ready to retire after the many times I’ve ruined her hairstyles and replaced them with one of mine over the last couple of days, and my fingers are itching to get tangled up in the intricate style she gave Freya for the press conference set to begin as soon as the election results start pouring in.
The style is better than anything I can do, but there are few things I like as much as I like Freya’s hair when it’s loose.
Freya exhales loudly through her nose, bringing my attention back to her face and the frustration written there. Her cheeks are pink, like she knows what I was imagining, and I have to resist a smirk. “What are my choices, Mr. Reid?”
“Pulling out the big guns and calling me by my last name, huh?” I mutter, stepping toward her so quickly that she instinctively backs away.
She runs into a shelf of towels, and I plant my hands on either side of her, boxing her in.
“One.” I say the word in a growl, loving the way she shivers at the sound.
“We can talk about all the things that might happen in the next two hours.” I lean in and brush my nose along her jaw.
“We can talk it all through so you can brace yourself for the worst, knowing your closest friends are here to support you in whatever happens and nothing is going to change how I feel about you.” I touch a kiss beneath her ear as her pulse at her neck picks up speed.
“We can talk about what will happen when you become queen because that’s the more likely outcome, and we can keep trying to find a way for us to be together in whatever way you want. ”
I’m pretty sure Derek found the solution, but it still has its risks and will require planning and consideration. I can tell Freya about it later, when she’s not so worried about the much less distant future.
Freya’s breath stutters in her lungs as her hands rise to my chest and set my own heart racing. “What is the second option?”
Pulling back, I give her a wicked grin. “Two, I kiss you so thoroughly that you forget all about the election.”
“I like option two,” she breathes and pulls my mouth down to meet hers in a hungry, desperate kiss that steals my breath.
Yeah, I like this option better too.