It is his eyes that worry me. They are tired beyond the normal weariness that comes from flying to the other side of the world.
“What is the matter?” I ask, frowning at him.
I see the instant he realizes he was not properly masking. His eyes light up, facial muscles tightening his expression to one of careful nonchalance. In the place of my oldest friend now stands Hollywood’s most popular actor.
“Nothing’s the matter with me,” he says lightly. “I’m more worried about you. How are you holding up?”
As soon as I was reunited with my phone, I spent hours on a video call with my friends, assuring them that I was unharmed and safe. Derek was on that call, and though he was quiet, I was certain he believed me when I said I had no lasting damage from what happened at the debate.
I narrow my eyes. “Do not lie to me, Derek Riley.”
His chuckle sounds so natural that had I not seen the weariness and tension in his eyes a moment ago, I would believe him. “The election is in two days, Peach. You’re allowed to be stressed.”
“You came early because you thought I would be stressed?” It is a very Derek thing to do, but he already planned to come on Election Day, when the rest of my friends are coming to support me, and Derek’s schedule is always so tight.
I find it difficult to believe he happened to have an extra couple of days open when he is in the middle of filming.
“I like your hair down like this,” he says, ignoring my question. “You don’t wear it loose very often.”
To be frank, I was hoping I could convince Elliot to braid it again. Not because Runa is incapable of doing my hair but because Elliot and I have not been alone for even a moment since we left Wulfric’s two days ago. I woke early this morning, eager to see him, but was disappointed to find a couple of palace guards outside my door rather than my bodyguard. They told me Elliot had been ordered by Gregor to rest.
While I agree that Elliot has not taken adequate time to heal, I do not like when he is not near. I miss his touch. He has kept a respectable distance the last couple of days—with so much attention on me right now, that has been necessary—but there is an ache in my chest that I did not realize could build so quickly. We have had no time alone and therefore no time to talk about…everything.
“Derek,” I say as forcefully as I can. Gesturing to the nearest sofa, I wait until he sits beside me. “Why are you really here?”
His jaw tightens, telling me I was right to think there is more at play. Pulling the hat from his head, he runs his hand through his dark hair in a way that makes him look anxious.
Derek Riley isneveranxious.
“What is it?” I ask tersely.
He sighs. “I heard about the conversation you had with the gang the night before the debate. About Grimstad.”
Discomfort pools in my chest, leaving me overwarm. “Hank told you.” He was the only one who got the name of my potential betrothed.
“No, he didn’t, but I’m more worried about whyyoudidn’t tell me.” A hard edge enters his eyes, something I do not see in him often. Leaning forward, he grabs hold of my hand. “Freya, I know you. I know you’re going to be struggling with this decision, especially when you and Elliot…” He bites his tongue.
I narrow my eyes. “When Elliot and I what, Derek?”
“Like I said. I know you.”
What he doesnotsay is that he knows how I feel about my bodyguard, but I can see it in his eyes. Derek is more diligent about reading the tabloids than any of us, and he would have seen not onlyHot Scoop’s claims but any stories in Candoran newspapers as well. More than likely, he read the opinion piece that I have yet to get out of my head, and he saw all the pictures.
“Talk to me, Freya.” He sounds desperate in a way, and I wonder if the lastHot Scoopstory I read bothered him more than it should have. The one that talked about how he and I are sure to be at odds now that I have Elliot in my life. It is a good thingHot Scoopdoes not know that Elliot and Derek are cousins and not simply connected through me, or I am certain things would have gotten far more complicated.
I have avoided the internet since leaving Skalridge, but perhaps people have said more. Enough to get under Derek’s skin.
“What would you like me to say?” I ask, dropping my eyes to our clasped hands. “Markham Grimstad proposed marriage, and I should have given him an answer days ago, but everything has been so…” There is not even a proper word to describe the state of my life.
Derek’s voice drops half an octave. “Are you considering him?”
“Of course I am.” I know better than to lie.
“Why?” Because it is Derek sitting across from me, he is not asking because he thinks I have lost my mind. He genuinely wants to know my reasons so he can understand.
Didn’t I want this only days ago? A chance to talk to my oldest friend about a situation I can barely think about because every time I do it hurts? But I wanted that before someone tried to take my life. Before Elliot kissed me. Before I thought I might lose a man who means more to me than anyone ever has before.
Before I felt like I was being torn in half.
