Page 167 of The Prince of Broken Crowns

Her voice echoes against the ceiling, and so does the scuff of our shoes hitting the floor.

“I was just thinking about some things.” I’m holding onto her hand. I can’t seem to stop doing that and, as long as she allows me to do so, I’ll probably continue to do it.

“What sort of things?” she asks, locking gazes with me as we round my car.

“Nothing important.” I press the unlock button, and the lights flash and it beeps as the locks unclick. I open the door for her, something she typically finds amusing—my gentleman-like behavior. It was ingrained in me, and I used to loathe it, but I don’t mind doing these types of things with her.

She moves to duck in but then spins to face me. “That look on your face doesn’t match your words.”

I rest my arm on the top of the door. “What look?”

“That intense look.” She tilts her head up, locks of her hair spilling across her shoulders.

Goddammit, she’s so beautiful.

“It’s similar to the look you had on your face when we first met,” she continues, reaching out and fidgeting with a loop on my pants. I’m not even sure she’s aware she’s doing it.

“That’s weird since we’re not in jail.”

“What were you thinking about the first time I saw you, anyway?”

“How annoyed I was that Finn got us arrested.” I shrug, swallowing hard. “And then I saw you, and I couldn’t stop thinking about how beautiful you were—are.”

“River …” Her voice is quiet and crammed with uneasiness.

“It’s just a fact, Mads. You’re gorgeous, and I’m pretty sure that you already know I think that.” I sweep a lock of her hair out of her eyes and tuck it behind her ear, letting my fingers linger on her cheek.

I’m such a goner.

“River,” she breathes out, I think in an attempt to lecture me. But the way her gaze lowers to my lips has me questioning if she feels it, too—that pulsating, almost agonizing need to kiss her, touch her, do all sorts of things I’ve never done before.

I lean in, and when she doesn’t slant away, I move even closer, until I can feel her breath dusting across my face?—

Screech.

The sound of tires screeching from inside the car garage floods the air. I jolt, spinning around and standing protectively in front of Maddy as I frantically search for the car that made the noise. A second later, a white SUV with tinted windows peels past us with a speed way too fast for a parking garage.

“Who is that?” Maddy asks shakily as the SUV turns and disappears out of sight.

“It could just be some idiot who lives here,” I mumble, facing her. “But it could be someone else.”

She ravels a strand of her hair around her finger. “Like whom?”

I shrug. “I’m not sure … Maybe the paparazzi?” I glance at her from the corner of my eye, measuring her reaction.

The last time we had to deal with the paparazzi, she got uncomfortably quiet. I don’t blame her. It’s a lot to handle, even for someone like me who’s been dealing with it their entire lives.

“We should go then,” she states as she unravels her hair from her finger.

I nod, once again attempting to measure her reaction. But she’s a closed book. And I have a feeling she’s doing it on purpose.

That she doesn’t want me to know what she’s thinking.

Maddison

I’m unsure how to handle this whole paparazzi thing. I panicked the last time something like this happened, but this time, I’m resisting the urge to, mainly because I don’t have another option. What am I going to do? Take off? Where? I don’t know my way around the Royal City.

Instead, I climb into River’s car. A few minutes later, we’re exiting the shade of the carport and turning onto the road that leads to the main area of the city. The sky is glistening with sunlight, and the air is humming with the sounds of people wandering around, driving around, running up and down the sidewalk. I envy the latter to the point where my legs ache to be outside, my feet slapping against the concrete.

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