“Sure.”
“Well, my mother is the symbolic embodiment of Great Britain. So to rebel against her—which all kids have to do—I rebel against my country. Or at least the part of it that expects me to follow a preset path my whole life.” He shook his head. “How did this happen?”
“You were born.”
“No, I mean: how did I end up talking about me?” He shook his head again. “I came here with such good intentions: to tell you how great you are and that if you want me out of your life, I’ll go, but if I can be a part of your life in even the smallest way, then I’d be the happiest man on the planet. And I end up talking about myself like I always do. I try, I really do, but there’s just something innately selfish about me.”
I had to smile. He was a bit selfish. But most people were, to a degree—selfishness seemed to be the natural human condition. At least Andrew was honest and self-deprecating about it, and it was nice to hear him talk without guile, without arrogance, and without agenda. For once, he didn’t seem like he was trying to get me back or get me into bed. He just couldn’t bear me hating him over a terrible misunderstanding, and there was something incredibly sweet about that.
My earlier anger faded away as I realized I really had overreacted to the whole situation—though not without reason—and I sat down and took a deep breath. Now was as good a time as any to tell him my news, and I had to tell him before it was too late.
“Andrew, I’m pregnant,” I said.
Before he could say anything in response, I hurriedly continued.
“I guess one of the condoms broke and we didn’t notice, so I know we didn’t plan it, but there it is,” I said. “And maybe the pregnancy hormones have been making me overreact to things, but I really should’ve let you explain your side of the story the other day. I’m sorry. I just…I was so upset because I really…”
My voice trailed off as Andrew stared at me with wide eyes. I wasn’t sure I’d meant to just blurt it all out like that, and I wasn’t sure that this was the best time to say it, but it was out there now. I kept looking at Andrew, wanting to see that first, honest, unguarded response when my words sank in.
His eyes remained wide, and a smile spread like a sunrise across his features. “I’m going to be a father?”
I nodded.
“Wait…it is mine, right?”
I threw a cushion at him.
“I was joking!” he said, ducking away from it.
“It wasn’t funny!” I said, preparing to launch another cushion.
“Sorry. I tend to deal with shocking news with humor, and you know I have an awful sense of humor…but…I’m really going to be a father?”
“Yes,” I said, a soft smile spreading across my face as I lowered the cushion back to the sofa. “You are. I know this will cause massive problems with your family, not to mention the tabloids, and I’m sorry for that, but I—”
Andrew sprang to his feet, dashed across the room and kissed me, cutting me off mid-sentence. After a second, he broke away and looked down at me, his eyes shining with emotion.
“Keira, I love you. I don’t know if you want me back in your life, but whatever you want from me, whatever you need, I’ll be there. You and this baby,” he said, laying his hand on my belly, “are all that matter to me. Screw everyone and everything else.”
My heart soared, higher and higher with each word that spilled from his mouth.
“Andrew,” I said softly. “I love you too.”
It was the first time we’d said it out loud.
Andrew leaned forward again, claiming my lips with his, and I kissed him back, our tongues meeting and clashing in a feverish embrace as all our problems from the last few days melted away. There was a whole mess to clear up that didn’t currently bear thinking about, but as long as we were with each other, then nothing else mattered for the time being.
We were finally together again, and we’d finally admitted that we were in love. That was all that mattered now.
Chapter 17
Andrew
First things first, I decided as I left my room the following morning. I had to speak to my mother and let her know once and for all that I would most certainly not be going through with her farce of an arranged engagement, let alone actually marrying Princess Alexandra, and then I’d tell her that I’d met someone else. Then Keira and I would probably have to spend a few months hiding out somewhere, possibly France—or Bermuda, if France did not prove distant enough—and wait for things to blow over before mentioning the pregnancy, seeing as the first bit of news might just be enough to make her heart give out.