As Arne shuffles away, another man takes his place. “Princess Raea,” Lord Syzmon greets me with a deep bow. He’s a senior from Ateria, and I immediately sense we have no Bond. I muster a patient smile while he stumbles through his own round of flirting. Meanwhile, I burn under the intense gaze of either Kellan or Anders, their eyes boring into me from across the room. I resist the urge to look.
When the two-minute timer is up, I relax and roll my shoulders.
I can do this.
The new kid, Gunnar, takes a seat next before a junior boy from my politics class can. Gunnar’s blue eyes light with arrogance as he leans back, relaxing into the chair.
“We haven’t had the pleasure yet, Princess Raea,” he says flirtatiously. “I’ve heard nothing but intriguing tales about you.” His tone drips with narcissism, and I can’t help but wonder how Anders could be friends with someone like him. Then again, I feel the same way about Sienna, who’s currently glaring at me like she’s plotting my death.
“Gunnar,” I reply, sliding on my facade as the poised princess. “Tell me more about yourself.”
I straighten my posture and tilt my head, trying to maintain an air of indifference. He’s cute in a way, with an air of don’t-give-a–shit—a fact he’s clearly aware of. He has ice-blue eyes, and his tousled auburn hair falls in loose waves around his face. A hint of scruff frames his jaw, and his fitted navy shirt reveals toned muscles beneath, contrasting with the paleness of his skin. I almost ask why he isn’t tan like the other Okenen men in my life, but then I realize I’m just comparing him, and unfortunately for him, I find him lacking.
“I think I’d rather hear about you. What’s your favorite color?” he asks, quirking an eyebrow with his teasing smirk.
Oh, he’s definitely a flirt, but two can play the game. At least he’s keeping things interesting.
“Green,” I reply casually, “like the fever thistles that blanket Kyrr in the summer. Or the pale pink Azaleas in Okenen.” I lean back in my chair, feigning boredom, but inwardly I can sense that he sees right through me and is ready for the challenge.
“Favorite book?” he fires back.
“The Tales of Emberlee Rose.” I’m aware that it’s not my definitive favorite, since my love for literature spans many genres, but it would be impossible to choose just one. Still, that novel has left me with a severe book hangover.
“Romance. Steamy. Okay,” he says with a seductive pull of his lips, making me blush.
“Ten seconds,” I tease, pointing to the timer above us.
“How would you feel about taking a walk after this so we can get to know each other better?”
I momentarily freeze. Did he just ask me on a date? Heat rises in my cheeks for the second time in under two minutes.
“Think about it.” He winks, standing just as the timer sounds.
What. The. Hell.
The dumb ripples of light hit me like a shockwave, sending waves of yellow crashing over me.
Damn it.
Reluctantly, I mark him down on the app open on my tablet. If I don’t, I won’t get credit.
Six more men sit in front of me. They’re all kind but more interested in touting their accomplishments and accolades. Only one of them do I sense even the slightest flicker of light. Or maybe it’s fatigue. I mark him down anyway and look up, knowing we have time for about four more.
“Princess,” he purrs, the word rolling off his tongue with a velvety smoothness that sends a jolt of energy through me.
My heart races as our eyes lock, his stormy blue depths captivatingme completely. I can’t help the smile that spreads across my face. He looks devilishly handsome, especially in the warm, golden light that accentuates every angle of his chiseled features. The formal black attire clings to his tan, inked skin in a way that stirs something deep within me, igniting a flame low in my belly as I think of the strength of his arms around me. There’s a rush of pure happiness in seeing him, my friend, my…maybe something more.
He returns my smile, a look of wonder playing across his face, his gaze unwavering. I notice his breath hitch, and he nearly stumbles as he takes a seat across from me, making the air feel thick with tension.
“What?”
“You’ve never smiled like that at me. Everyone else. Never me,” he admits, his voice carrying a blend of surprise and admiration. “It’s beautiful.”
The weight of his words sinks in, and suddenly my smile falters. A heavy stone lodges in my throat at his admission.
Have I truly never offered him my full, unguarded smile before?
It’s one I typically reserve for those closest to me. Realization washes over me, and I can’t shake the feeling that I’ve been such a bitch and a terrible friend. I set my pen down, flipping the tablet over to hide the list of names I’ve been scribbling—names that now feel trivial compared to the feelings flooding my chest. We’re fated to Bond, and all I’ve done is push him away.
