“Why exactly did I miss you when you were gone?”
“Why wouldn’t you miss me? Who the hell wants to deal with Dad all on his own?”
“Good point.”
He smirks. “I’m full of them today. It’s what comes from having a fully functional brain, no matter what people think.”
“I am aware you have a fully functional brain. I’m also pretty sure you have a fully functional fist,” I tell him, nodding to his good hand, “and I would prefer not to get punched.”
“Well, this is getting more interesting by the minute.” He pauses. “You know that I don’t hold you responsible for Dad’s opinions, right? I know you’re not trying to get me kicked off the throne.”
“Fuck no, I’m not! Jesus. Who the hell wants to be king anyway?”
For long seconds, there’s nothing but silence. Then Garrett says quietly, “I do.”
“You’re going to be,” I tell him firmly. “It’s just going to take some time for the current king to get his head out of his ass. But he’ll get there eventually.”
“And if he doesn’t?”
“Well, there won’t be a new king until he dies. And when that happens, it’s not like he’s going to come back from the grave and take the crown off your head, so…it’s a moot point, really.”
For long seconds, Garrett just stares at me, openmouthed. I’m beginning to think I went too far and that’s when he starts to laugh and laugh and laugh.
Seconds later, I’m laughing, too, so hard that my stomach hurts and I’ve got tears in my eyes.
When we’ve both calmed down, he says, “Okay. So if you’re not angsting about being king, what the hell is going on?”
Fuck it. I’m going to have to tell him sometime. It might as well be now, when we’re both still grinning like idiots.
“I met someone.”
“No shit! I’m out being tortured and you’re ensconced in the palace with some gorgeous woman. No wonder you didn’t want to tell me.”
He’s trying to look serious, but his voice gives it away. As does the shit-eating grin he can’t get rid of.
“So tell me about her.”
“Yeah, that’s the thing…”
“What?” His brows hit his hairline. “Should I be asking to hear about him?”
“Dude, seriously? I think we’ve established pretty strongly that I’m hetero.”
“You never know. Maybe some guy swept you off your feet while I was gone. It could happen.”
“While it could happen,” I acknowledge, “it didn’t. She’s definitely a girl.”
“Okay. So what’s the problem, then?”
“No problem.”
“Really? Because you’re acting weird.”
“Fine. It’s just…you know her.”
“I figured. There’s not a huge pool of aristocrats to pull from—”
“She’s n