Page 49 of American Royals II: Majesty
It might be deeply un-American of her, but Beatrice had never really liked beer. “I’ll try the grapefruit thing,” she decided. “It can’t be worse than the cherry brandy they always serve after state dinners.”
Teddy lifted an eyebrow but didn’t argue, just turned back toward his brothers. “Does anyone remember if we have plastic cups in here?”
She came over to help him look, opening and closing various cabinets in rapid succession. “Here we go,” she exclaimed, finding a shelf with a few stray coffee mugs. She reached for one and held it out toward Teddy, realizing as she did that it was a custom-made mug, the kind you could order from an internet photo site. It was emblazoned with a picture of Teddy and a long-limbed blond girl.
“Who’s this?” she asked, angling the mug so that her fiancé could see.
He reddened all the way to the tips of his ears. “That’s my high school girlfriend, Penelope van der Walle,” he mumbled. “She made that for me—it’s so embarrassing. I didn’t even realize it was still here. Sorry,” he added, shooting a murderous glance toward his brothers. Neither of them spoke, but their shoulders shook with silent laughter.
“I see,” Beatrice said evenly. For some reason, the thought of Teddy with that doe-eyed girl made her feel hot all over. In a surprisingly territorial way.
Teddy hurried to put the cup back on the shelf. He grabbed a navy mug that saidNANTUCKETand reached for the vodka, but Beatrice, her actions fueled by some emotion she couldn’t understand, had already grabbed it. She filled the coffee mug nearly to the brim.
“Drink that slowly, okay?” Teddy eyed her heavy pour with a flicker of trepidation. “It’s meant to be mixed with soda water and lime.”
Beatrice took a sip—and kept drinking. “You’re wrong,” she insisted, when she’d drained at least a quarter of the cup. “This is delicious.”
They wandered over to the couch. Lewis and Livingston were still engrossed in the game, their animated football players racing around a cartoon field. “We used to play this all the time in high school,” Teddy reminisced.
“But weren’t you on arealfootball team back then?” Beatrice asked. “Didn’t you want to play something else?”
“It’s different when it’s a video game. Totally unrelated skill set,” Livingston explained, and held out the controller. He looked like a younger, stockier version of Teddy, with the Eatons’ trademark blond hair and blue eyes. “Want to play? We could do two on two, me and you versus Lewis and Teddy.”
Beatrice hesitated. “I’ve never played.”
“That’s why you’re on my team. I’m the best player here; I can cover your mistakes,” Livingston declared. His brothers each made a low “ohhhh” sound at the challenge. But when Beatrice still hesitated, he backtracked. “Or you can play with Teddy, of course.”
She took another sip, then set her mug on the coffee table. A new lightness had stolen into her head, casting everything in a delightful golden glow.
“No, you’re right. I want to play with you, against Teddy,” she decided. “I want to see the look on his face when we completely destroy him.”
There was some hollering and heckling at her declaration, a few good-natured jokes at her fiancé’s expense. Teddy shot her a taunting grin. “What do you say, Bee, should we bet onit?”
“Absolutely,” she said, feeling reckless. “What are the terms?”
Teddy’s eyes met hers, and heat coursed through her; not the tickling warmth of the vodka but something wilder and more dangerous. Beatrice wondered if he was going to bet her a kiss.
She wondered what she would say, if he did.
“We could do a round of truth-or-dare,” Teddy suggested. Another high school game that Beatrice had never played.
“You’re on,” she said, more bravely than she felt.
It took a few minutes for Beatrice to get the hang of the game. But her competitive nature quickly took over; and soon she was perched on the edge of the couch, shouting just as loud as the boys as she stabbed frantically at her controller. Time seemed to stretch out indeterminately, all her energies focused on that massive screen.
With only a few minutes to go, she and Livingston were about to win—until Teddy’s receiver caught Lewis’s pass and sprinted into a touchdown, just as the clock ticked down to zero.
It took a moment for Beatrice to realize that the room had erupted in shouts of excitement and outrage, and that hers were loudest of all. She put down her controller, feeling self-conscious.
“Hey, you played great.” Livingston knocked his fist against hers in congratulations.
“Thanks.” No one had ever fist-bumped her before. No one had ever given her anightlike this before, either—a night of pretending she was any ordinary person.
Teddy clearly knew her better than she’d realized.
“So,” he said, turning to her with a half smile. “Truth or dare?”
“Truth?” After the truths they’d already shared tonight, it sounded easy to go ahead and share one more. Certainly easier than whatever wild dare Teddy and his brothers might come up with.
