AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“Whatcha thinkin’ about, princess?” present-day Ryder said with a smirk, spinning her effortlessly through the sea of dancing couples.
She narrowed her eyes at him.
“I thought I told you to stop calling me that.”
“Yes, I believe you did.” He leaned in close, and whispered in her ear, “Princess.”
She wanted to be mad, but it was nearly impossible. He was relentless but also oddly endearing, and being so close to him, gliding across the floor . . . Well, the whole thing was a tiny bit intoxicating. So she settled for hiding her face in his shoulder as she suppressed a giggle.
He was warm and solid, and she lost herself in the music and the moment for a few seconds as a sort of longing washed over her. Not for Ryder, of course, but for this. For closeness. She knew now that she and Noah had never been right for each other, she did. But she was used to him. Used to having someone who was hers. And heaven help her, she missed him right now.
And then his stupid older brother opened his stupid mouth and ruined it. “So what gives with Noah anyway? I thought Prince Charming had to show at the ball.”
Right. She was dancing with Ryder. Right. And she had Davis anyway. And she was here to represent the foundation and had absolutely no business getting all sappy and sentimental.
She pulled herself up straighter, putting some distance between them. “I’m not sure. He wanted to take some time with Sabrina. And since I was planning to attend anyway, I told him I’d be happy to handle the networking.”
He scoffed. “What a jackass.”
Vicky stiffened. “I am perfectly capable of managing that task on my own.”
“Of course you are, but he’s still a jackass.”
She was about to argue when she realized that (a) though her feelings were more complex on the matter, she didn’t entirely disagree with his assessment—she really would rather have had Noah there to show solidarity for the business, given this was the first Pink Heart Ball since their breakup. And (b) she wasn’t going to knock this particular chip off Ryder’s shoulder just by telling him it didn’t belong there.
“Let’s talk about something else,” she said instead.
“Good idea! Let’s talk about your date ghosting you. Do I have to beat someone up?”
Vicky gritted her teeth. “No, Ryder, you don’t need to beat anyone up. Davis simply had a business commitment he couldn’t avoid.”
“Davis? Davis King? The Kingdom guy? Sunshine Kingdom, Peachtree Kingdom, Monsoon Kingdom?”
He was definitely getting less endearing.
“There is no Monsoon Kingdom, and you know it. And, yes, the Kingdom guy, among other things. Davis is a very astute businessman. The King theme parks along with the movie studios and television network and all the other subsidiaries are a trillion-dollar enterprise.”
“That he inherited from his grandfather.”
“That has earned him international accolades as a shrewd and innovative leader.”
“Sure, if you’re into that kind of thing.”
The song came to an end, and Vicky stared daggers at him. He responded by chuckling in amusement, then dropping her hands to grab another glass of wine from a passing tray.
She just stared at him.
“Oh, sorry. Did you want one?”
Another song started up, but they just stood in the middle of the floor. A few people were starting to look at them.
He took a swig. “You kinda got a theme going, huh?” She folded her arms and arched a brow. “You know, Prince, King . . . Got a fake royalty fetish there, princ—”
“Don’t.”
He grinned, then turned to the nearest server—who was a good twenty feet away—and yelled, “Oh, garçon? Two more, please!”
Now everyone was looking at them. Vicky could hear the whispers.
