“I wouldn’t mind at all,” Prince Oliver chimed in.
“There we have it! What the prince wants, the prince gets!” Vince clapped his hands together before popping a fry into his mouth, a satisfied grin on his face.
Three hours later, the seven of us were gathered around that same table, Sam squeezed in between Vince and the dreadlocked Chauncey while I perched between Prince Oliver and Tej, who appeared to be in his mid-twenties despite his prematurely gray hair. Knox had pulled a chair up to the open end of the table, seeming to prefer his personal space unimpeded. Vince and Chauncey had spent much of the last hour silently vying for who got to drape his arm around Sam’s shoulders, with Vince currently winning. The three men dressed in black—the prince’s security for the weekend—now occupied their own booth with a clear view of our table, thanks to the late hour and the nearly empty bar. Most of the earlier patrons had moved along to one of the city’s many nightclubs. I had cleared our table of beer cans and bottles several times but could easily fill another tray with the empties that had accumulated again.
“I feel like we kind of crashed your party,” I said, looking at Prince Oliver. “What did you have planned?”
“Nothing appropriate for two women to tag along to,” Knox interjected.
“Ah.” I smirked. If he was under the assumption that Sam and I had never been to a strip club, he could think again. Our early twenties had been a wild time. Plus, there was the time Sam’s brothers had busted up my twenty-fifth birthday pretending to be strippers.
“This morning when you said you were visiting the city, you didn’t mention being friends with a prince,” I said, looking at Knox pointedly as I took a sip of my beer.
“It’s not something I typically lead with. You never know if people are just looking for an in,” Knox replied as he looked straight into my eyes. My stomach flipped.
I raised my eyebrow, offended. I certainly wasn’t “looking for an in”—whatever that meant. I had never even heard of WexstoneorPrince Oliver and wasn’t sure how the group had ended up at Americana, of all places.
“Wait.” Prince Oliver interrupted my thoughts. “Do you two know each other?”
“Yeah,” I answered, as Knox replied, “No.”
We side-eyed each other. The rest of the group had quieted, the alcohol making it impossible for them to hide their curiosity.
“Sort of,” I amended. “We met this afternoon at a coffee shop and Knox here belittled my opinion on bagels and how I like my eggs cooked.”
“I think ‘belittle’ is an exaggeration,” Knox cut in. “I simply stated that runny eggs are a product of the devil.”
“Ah, so you were treated to a classic Knox argument,” Prince Oliver said, laughing. His face had become more and more flushed the more he drank.
“I don’t know if you can call it an argument. It was more like a proclamation,” I replied.
The prince gave me a warm smile that made me believe he too had been on the receiving end of those proclamations a time or two.
“Do you know how to play darts?” Sam asked, glancing to the men flanking her.
Chauncey nodded. “Knox taught us how to play years ago.”
“Perfect. Let’s go!” Sam grabbed both Vince and Chauncey’s hands and dragged them from the booth to the opposite corner of the bar, where we kept two dart boards and a few high-top tables.
Prince Oliver, Tej, and Knox followed, watching as Sam, Vince, and Chauncey started throwing the darts, while I grabbed us another bucket of cold beers. As I walked back over, the entire group let out a roar of laughter.
“What did I miss?” I asked.
“Your friend is quite cheeky!” Prince Oliver laughed.
“Oh no.” I chuckled. “What did she do this time?”
Sam grabbed a beer. “I didn’t do anything. I just told Vince and Chauncey that if they want any of this”—she waved her hand over her toned body—“they’re going to have to work for it.”
“You’re making them play against each other and you’re going to go home with the winner, aren’t you?” I rolled my eyes. I had seen her do this once or twice.
“Yeah, that’s what I said.” She giggled.
I saddled up to the nearby high top as Chauncey and Vince played their little hearts out. They were like teenage boys, talking shit and interfering with the other’s throws.
Prince Oliver, Tej, and I talked as the others played darts for about an hour. I couldn’t brush off the feeling that Knox didn’t want me there, though. Other than looking completely disinterested, he didn’t participate in any of our conversations. He just focused on his beer bottle and tearing off the label.What a buzzkill.Not that I really cared—I was in a bar with my best friend and a prince; I wasn’t going to let Mr. Moody ruin our fun.
“I’m going to find the loo,” Knox said to Prince Oliver as he stood up.
