Page 102 of Fallen Crown

A smile tugs at the edges of my lips that she understands enough about how my world works that she’s made the correct leap. “I signed an NDA, so I’m trusting you to keep this between us.”

“Your binding, legal contract is safe with me.”

Technically, it’s not safe with anyone, hence the NDA, but if I want to go the distance with Maren, I need to let her in all the way, in places I’ve never let anyone else, and give her a level of trust I wouldn’t normally bestow. We were teammates, and now we’re a team. Her thoughts and feelings have to be my priority.

“Freja developed social anxiety. Princess Simone required me to be Freja’s emotional support animal.”

“Aww. Like a Labrador retriever?” Tucker’s tone is delighted. “But also, that must be terrible to be that high profile and anxious about it. I can’t imagine.”

“Simone equated me to a golden retriever, actually. But less loyal.”

“Shows what she knows.” Maren scoffs. “You’re very loyal.”

“To you,” I say. “Always to you.”

She snuggles tighter and squeezes me.

“We’re about to be very high profile soon, I suspect,” I say. “The first episode of the InterFlix show airs next week. Do you think Enzo is going to be a problem?”

“He slept with someone else,” she whispers. “After I sent the separation papers. Claims that was his moment of clarity.”

“His moment of clarity happened when he was dick deep in someone else? He and I are clearly opposites. If I ever even wanted to do that, there’s my moment of clarity. Not doing it. Considering it.” I don’t even try to keep the scorn out of my voice. “And I’d never fucking do it.”

“He didn’t see it that way,” she says. “But he didn’t blame me for what happened with you either.”

Definitely nothing alike. If I were in his shoes, I would not take Maren being with someone else well either. That sentence might be the biggest understatement of my life.

“I asked Jag to hire a private investigator to look into what Enzo’s been doing this last year.”

“Brice.”

“I know. Not my place. Or it wasn’t, then. But I wasn’t sure if you were going back to him, and I didn’t know how else to protect you.”

“You thought I’d go back to him?”

“There were photos of you coming out of your apartment holding hands. Others of him carrying suitcases into your apartment.”

“None of him carrying those suitcases back out?”

“Strangely, no.” Though it’s not strange. I’ve been a victim of selective photography and editorial decisions on what to print many times.

“I don’t know why I was holding his hand,” she says. “I was sick, and I didn’t want to go. But he hadn’t signed the papers, and I felt guilty over what had happened between you and me.”

We curl up in the single hospital bed together, and I run my fingers through her hair in soothing motions, a little in awe that I can do this whenever I want from now on.

“Want to move into the palace?” I ask. “I could get used to lying like this with you in a slightly bigger bed.”

She laughs, and her breath skims across my neck. Yeah, I could definitely get used to this.

“For appearances sake, don’t you think we should wait until I’m actually divorced?”

“Sounds boring. Come live on the edge with me, Tucker. We’ll keep each other from tipping over.” If she says yes, I’m all in, but if she stills says no, I’ll let it go for now. I get that everything is more complicated than either of us would like.

“Can I think about it?”

“As long as you want. It’s an open invitation that never expires.”

“I really do love you,” she says as she traces figure eights on my chest. “In a way I didn’t even know it was possible to love someone.”