I laugh and hide my embarrassed pleasure at the compliment behind my crystal tumbler. “A couple problems with that, though,” I say, holding up a finger. “One, you already know I have limited free time.” I put up a second finger. “Two, I don’t want to be dealing with the media if they catch on to us.”
“I’ve already thought of both of those.” He pushes down my middle finger. “I’m going to recruit my cousin, Princess Beatrix. We’ll make it seem like you are her date when we go out. You may still get some attention, she’s rarely seen with the same woman more than two or three times, but we’re talking long-distance shots and maybe a made-up article in some trashy tabloid.” He pushes down my first finger. “As for time, I’ll keep our plans strictly to Friday and Saturday nights or Sunday evenings.”
I nod. “I accept these conditions.”
“Good. Next term, I want you to attend the group events for these upcoming ‘princess trials’ as my guest.”He rolls his eyes as he mentions the little games set to begin next week.
I sit back on my heel, mouth slightly open. “What? Why?”
“Because next to you, the particularly vapid ones will stand out like a sore thumb. And because I value your opinion.”
“You hardly know me.”
“I know you enough to know I can trust your judgement.”
I roll my eyes. “Whatever you say, Your Highness.”
He nods. “Thank you. Also, stop calling me Your Highness. When we’re together, I’m just Fritz.”
I open my mouth to protest, but he holds up a hand.
“Or Friedrich, if you’d prefer. But if we’re about to do what I think we’ve agreed upon, we’re going to move way past honorifics, don’t you think?”
I relent.Can’t argue with that.
“Next, open communication is a must. What did you like? What did you not like? What do you want more or less of? You have to tell me if you’re afraid or uncomfortable because the last thing I want to do is fuck up your perception of the beauty and the fun of the everything but.”
I nod.The everything but.Margaret’s books have definitely gotten to me because I am a bit too excited to explore what that means.
He takes a long sip of his bourbon. “Andfinally, when this does come to its end, I want us to remain friends.”
I quirk an eyebrow. “Friends?”
“Yes.” He rubs his neck again. “I, erm, don’t have many close friends.” He sighs. “Christ, that’s pitiful to admit.”
I slide in closer to him. My knee brushes against his thigh, and I hear his sharp intake of breath. It makes me bold, knowing I have an effect on him.
“No,” I breathe. “I imagine it’s difficult for someone in your position to make real friends.”
He scoffs. “You have no idea.”
