Page 24 of Fake Dating the Prince

It didn’t help that their adventure together was coming to a close.

He took a deep breath, inhaling whatever simple soap Flip washed with, and made himself sit up. Just because he felt pathetic didn’t mean he had to act like it. He had some dignity. “Is this the part where I tell you I had a really nice time tonight?”

Flip’s smile looked as tired as Brayden felt. “Is that your way of letting me down easy?”

Brayden shrugged and turned to look out the window. The lamps were all lit and cast the streets in a sort of cozy, ethereal glow. Beautiful. “That’s the story, right? I’m supposed to break your heart.”

“That’s what we agreed,” Flip said softly.

The car rolled down otherwise empty cobblestone streets. It had to be two in the morning, if not later. Tomorrow—late; Brayden wasn’t getting out of bed before ten at the earliest—he’d check out one of the hop-on, hop-off tours or maybe see about a trip into the countryside. He’d heard there was snow in the mountains, and a horse-drawn sleigh would make a great Instagram post.

It probably wouldn’t be as much fun alone, though.

“After we fake break up, can we still be friends?”

Flip’s silence was all the answer he needed, but Brayden turned to look at him anyway. His expression didn’t give much away—he’d probably had actual lessons on maintaining a poker face—but his lips turned down at the corners, and the skin around his eyes was tight.

“Yeah,” Brayden agreed quietly. “They’re not going to believe we broke up if we keep hanging out together. It was a nice thought, though.”

The car turned the corner onto his hotel’s street. Finally Flip said, “It really was a good night. I’ve never had that much fun at the Night of a Thousand Lights before. And that’s…. Thank you for that.”

Brayden was about to tell him he should do it more often, that fun looked good on him, but he found himself focusing on the window past Flip’s head. People seemed to have congregated on the street outside his hotel. At two o’clock in the morning on a misty, chilly December night. Were they trying to catch pneumonia?

The car slowed to a stop, and Brayden automatically reached for the door, too tired to remember he ought to wait for Celine. But when he popped it open, a bright light blinded him and someone shouted a question in French, too garbled for Brayden to hear over another, this one in English.

“There he is! Mr. Wood, how long have you and the crown prince been an item?”

“Is there any truth to the rumors of a secret engagement?”

“Mr. Wood, can you comment on Prince Antoine-Philippe’s management of the Crown Mining Co.?”

“Over here, Brayden! How big is the prince’s—”

A hand closed around his arm and jerked him back into the car. Over the voices of the reporters, he heard Flip curse and then instruct Celine to take them back to the ring road until otherwise instructed. Flip leaned over him to close the door, and Celine peeled rubber as they sped away, leaving Brayden’s hotel in their dust.

The roar of the engine quieted some a few moments later, and a hand touched Brayden’s arm. “Brayden? Are you okay?”

He took a deep breath and shook his head, which felt stuffed with cotton. “I think so. Whatwasthat?”

“Paparazzi.” Flip’s expression could have frozen the fires of hell. “The ball was televised. Someone at the hotel must have recognized you and leaked your whereabouts to the press.”

Brayden’s heart was still beating about twenty times a minute too fast. “Jesus. Well, that’s inconvenient.” All his stuff was there.

Flip slumped back in his seat and wiped a hand over his face. “I should have known this would happen. The press was always going to be interested in you, and then I introduced you as my boyfriend…. I shouldn’t have done that.”

“Hey,” Brayden said weakly, too raw from shock to hide the sting those words evoked. Tonight was just anarrangement, and he’d let himself forget that. Flip wasn’t the only one who’d lost sight of practical matters. “I agreed to this plan. I demand my share of the should-have-known-better blame. I was too dazzled by the whole… 1 percent glamor and charm and once-in-a-lifetime thing to stop and think.”

That hung in the air for a few heartbeats before Flip said quietly, “The press attention comes with the territory, I’m afraid.”

“I guess.” Brayden leaned his head against the window and closed his eyes. God, he was tired.

They drove in silence for a few more moments, and then Flip asked, “What do you want to do?”

“Honestly?” He forced his eyes open again and glanced across the car. “I just want to go to bed and deal with this in the morning.”

Flip nodded, straightened his posture, and knocked on the partition. It rolled down a second later. “Take us back to the palace, please, Celine.”

The partition rolled up, and Flip turned his attention to Brayden. In the light from the streetlamps they passed, he seemed very human. “You can stay with me tonight.”

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