Page 64 of The Prince of Broken Crowns

Stay cool, Maddy. No need to flip out over a brief kiss with a guy. You’ve kissed guys before. This is no big deal.

Except River is a Royal and he’s betrothed.

Ugh, I’m so dumb.

“Okay, brother,” Finn replies with amusement ringing in his tone.

River is rippling with irritation as he yanks the passenger door open, flips the seat forward, and climbs into the back.

“I’m okay with sitting in the back,” I tell him as rain drips over me.

Shaking his head, he readjusts the passenger seat for me. “Sit in the front. It’s more comfortable.”

I want to argue that he’s bigger and the front has more room, but my clothes are already getting soaked from the rain again, so I dive in and hurriedly close the door.

Finn cranks up the heat then turns the wheel and steers onto the road. He’s wearing the same T-shirt and shorts I saw him in earlier, and the cab sort of smells like sweat, an indicator he came here straight from football practice.

I cringe as water drips off my hair and onto his nice leather seats. “I’m sorry I’m getting your seat all wet.”

“It’s fine,” Finn tells me like it’s no big deal that the water might ruin the leather. It could very well not be a big deal to him either. I still feel bad.

“I’ll wipe it up when we get back to the school.” I extend my hand for my seat belt as he speeds toward the hills where the Royal Academy is located.

Finn lets out a laugh as he turns on some music. “Don’t be ridiculous. I’m not going to have you clean out my car. That’s what detail service is for.”

Right. Why would he want me to clean out his car when he can pay someone to polish it up all nice for him?

Once again, the reality of this world smacks me across the face.

I turn my head and stare out the window, watching the rain pour down against the streets and splatter against the pavement.

“I like your ink,” Finn comments after a few streams of lyrics play.

I lift a brow at him. “Do you like it because you hardly ever see ink or because you actually like it?”

“So damn feisty,” he murmurs with a ghost of a smile. He thrums his fingers to the song’s rhythm as his gaze skims along the lines inking my thigh. “I like it because it’s nice work.”

“Finn’s a closet artist,” River explains from the back seat. He’s leaning back with his arms tucked underneath his head.

I wonder if he’s thinking about how we just kissed? Or has he kissed so much that kissing is an afterthought? I don’t know… Lily made it sound like he didn’t kiss a lot.

“I think, in another life, he’d try to make it as a tattoo artist,” River adds.

“What the hell, bro?” Finn blasts River with a half-joking glare. “Since when do you spill my secrets? That’s more of my thing.”

River blinks his gaze from the window. “Sorry, I zoned out and went on auto-pilot.”

“I won’t tell anyone.” Although, it doesn’t make much sense to me why this is a huge secret. “Why does it even matter, anyway? And if you want to be one, why not just be one?”

“Because of responsibilities.” He pulls a face as he returns his focus to the road. “Being a tattoo artist isn’t an acceptable career.”

“Why? There’s some out there who are super talented and make bank.” From the corner of my eye, I note an older car that’s been modified but still looks oddly out of place for the glitzy streets of Royal City.

“It doesn’t matter if I make bank or not.” Finn shifts gears as he slows to a stop for a red light, and the older car comes to a stop, too. “What matters is that society sees me as something important, like a lawyer or CEO.” He sounds miserable as he speaks.

And I think I’m getting the gist. Apparently, on top of the Averson family forcing their oldest to marry the person of their choosing, they also force them into a certain career.

“Do you draw?” I wonder, rotating in the seat to face him.

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