Page 1 of Amelia and Her Prince Charming
Chapter 1
Hudson
Awordofadvice:don’t enter a bet with my older brother. He never loses.
Which was how I ended up in the quad of our university on the coldest day of the year so far, wearing nothing but an American flag speedo and cowboy boots.
“Vote for me for president!” I called out to a group of students who walked by in coats, scarves, and beanies.
To my left, I heard the snickers of Shiloh—my brother—and Dylan—our best friend—as one of the giggling students took a picture of me and then rushed off.
Great.
That was the kind of picture that would tank any chance I had in the future of actually running for president. Not that I ever would. Speaking in front of so many people? I couldn’t think of a worse torture.
Except this.
How did Shiloh think of these things? And how did he always get me to agree to do them?
He had that way about him—a charisma most people only dreamed of having. He was fun, outgoing, and the kind of person to give you the shirt off his back (unless you lost a bet, in which case you had to remove your shirt). I idolized him in every way, which was why I’d followed him and Dylan to Michigan State.
They were in their last year, both already signed with pro-hockey teams, while I still had one more year of undergrad, and then another eight more of medical school.
“I’ll vote for you.”
I closed my eyes, not wanting to turn around. I recognized that voice. Amelia Dickinson. The girl I’d had a crush on since Freshman English class two years ago. She was gorgeous, witty, playful, and for some reason had decided to be friends with me.
I’d noticed her long before she’d noticed me, which was why I’d seen her shivering in class after our first snowfall of the season. She’d been wearing a light sweater and sandals, and I insisted she take my seat right next to the heater. The next day, after talking myself into it, I brought an extra coffee to class with me and gave it to her before sitting on the other side of the room.
She’d stared at it before taking a cautious sip, and I realized that I probably looked like a stalker-creep and vowed to avoid her until the end of all time—or at least until the end of the semester.
But the next day, Amelia saved a seat for me next to her, asked me my name, and we’d been friends ever since. We also continued to trade off bringing drinks to class for each other. I hadn’t told Shiloh or Dylan about her because they’d pressure me to ask her out, and I was playing the long game. Thereallylong game. My plan was to work up the courage to ask her on a date the semester before we graduated.
“Do I want to ask what’s going on?” Amelia walked around to stand in front of me, her hands on her hips. Her gaze dropped from mine to follow the bare line of my chest, down past theSpeedo and my goosebumped legs to the cowboy boots. I’d never been so happy for my daily gym visits with Dylan and Shiloh. I didn’t play on our university hockey team like they did, but I’d always worked out with them.
I crossed my hands down in front of me. “I bet against the Peaks, and they won the Hockey National championship.”
Amelia covered her mouth in a sorry attempt to hide her smile. Especially since her eyes always conveyed exactly what she was thinking.
At five-foot nothing, the top of her head barely came to my chest, but whenever she was around, her presence filled my whole sphere of vision.
“I think I need to meet the diabolical mind that came up with this.”
Shiloh approached, Dylan close behind, huge grins on their faces. Shiloh wore his dark wool coat and jeans, and walked with the confidence of someone who had never once felt uncomfortable in his life. I had no doubt that if our roles were switched, he’d be owning the Speedo and boots combo, and have made new fans by the end of his hour.
“Excuse me, miss,” Shiloh said teasingly. “But you’re distracting my brother from his penance for betting against the greatest hockey team to ever play.”
“Am I?” She raised an eyebrow at Shiloh. “I assume you’re to blame for this.”
“Blame?” He gave her his winning smile, the one that had girls lining up for him since we were little. “I think the word you’re looking for is thank.”
She laughed and shook her head. “You’re trouble, aren’t you?”
“The best kind,” he replied.
My stomach sank. Were they flirting?
“I’m Shiloh.”
