Royal Games(5)
“The pleasure was all mine,” he said, and Whitney nearly knocked into me while she twirled the end of her hair. I half expected her to start giggling, so before she could, I elbowed her. She got herself back under control, and we headed down the driveway. When we got into her minivan, I asked, “Why were you standing out there talking to him?”
“I was going to come inside and get you, but I got distracted by tall, dark, and yummy over there.” She started up her car and waved one last time before putting the minivan in reverse. I didn’t look to see if he waved back.
“You’re married. And about to give birth,” I reminded her.
“Married and pregnant, not dead. And not unable to appreciate that he is even more gorgeous in real life than he is on television. How do you not spontaneously combust from lust? And why didn’t you tell me he was here?”
I grimaced and crossed my arms across my chest. “To avoid the conversation we’re about to have.”
She pulled out onto the town’s main road. “You mean the one where I tell you that you are a much better woman than I am if you’re planning to resist all that? What is that saying from your Star Trek show? Resistance is feudal?”
“It’s ‘resistance is futile.’ And he’s very resistible. Are you saying you can’t resist him?”
“Don’t give me that. You know I’d never cheat on Christopher in a million years. But you should totally make out with Rafe. You’re letting good lips go to waste. Personally, I think you should lower your shields and prepare to be boarded.”
If she had been anyone else, I wouldn’t have talked with her about him. But Whitney was special. After my aunt took me in, I was too scared to leave the house. At my request, she even homeschooled me for a couple of years. I justified it by saying I had a lot to catch up on, but fear was the main motivation. When I finally felt confident enough to go to school, I made the mistake of choosing freshman year in high school as my introduction into normal society.
As I walked into the main hallway of the high school, tentative and afraid, Tommy Davis had offered to show me around. He was the first regular boy to ever speak to me. He was a junior and seemed so nice and sweet. At the time, I didn’t know that he was Brooke Cooper’s boyfriend, and as such, I was apparently forbidden to speak to him. She cornered me to let me know the many rules that I had just broken, and I could only stand there with tears in my eyes as she detailed exactly how she was going to ruin my life.
Whitney had watched this all happen and jumped into the fray. She told Brooke off, threatening to tell her dad just what exactly Brooke and Tommy got up to after the football games. After Brooke and her cheerleading posse sulked away, Whitney turned to me and said, “Girls like that make me sick. Don’t worry about Brooke. You and I are going to be best friends.”
And we were. Whitney might sometimes be tough and prickly on the outside, but inside she was all gooey with love, devotion, and loyalty. Like a marshmallow. She would deny it, but it was true.
It was one of the reasons why I had been immediately drawn to Lemon Beauchamp, a fellow contestant on Marry Me. At least, I thought she had been a contestant. She had reminded me of Whitney, all Southern sass and strength, but sweet, compassionate, and motherly underneath. She had been a good friend to me, supportive and helpful even when she thought we were falling in love with the same man.
But Lemon had lied to me too. About who she really was and why she was on the show. She had even been engaged to someone else. All things she kept from me.
After everything fell apart, she had showered me with phone calls that I wouldn’t take. The pain was still too raw and powerful, and I blamed her unjustly. It was an annoying tendency of mine to sometimes take things out on the people who deserved them least. It wasn’t Lemon’s scheme that caused it all to fall apart. That was on Dante and Rafe.
Eventually the calls and unheard voicemails stopped. I wasn’t even angry with her anymore, but so much time had passed that I felt embarrassed about calling her, so I just did nothing. I wouldn’t have known what to say. Whitney had told me that she’d seen an article about Dante and Lemon being engaged, so I guess she must have forgiven him for what he and his brother did. I managed to stay away from all the online and televised coverage of the Monterran royals. I didn’t want the constant reminder because it felt like somebody was performing unanesthetized open-heart surgery on me every time I thought about Rafe.
Which Whitney knew, because she was the one person in whom I had confided all of my heartbreak. She knew how badly he had hurt me and how I wanted to move on. She had also watched the show. Repeatedly. She saw what I had been through. I knew she was on my side, but she had a soft spot for Rafe and told me more than once that she secretly hoped we would reunite.