“I feel like I need a lawyer,” I protest instantly, “before I answer that question.”
James laughs, suitably impressed. “I say, well done.”
“No, no. Not well done. At all. It’s terrible, in fact.” I frown hard at James to reinforce the message, but he’s grinning. “Hey, are you driving? You shouldn’t be calling when driving.”
He waves me off with a hand, the other hopefully on the steering wheel. “I’m on speaker, and my phone is in its holder. And, by the way, I’m headed over. I was just out with Frankie. See you in fifteen.”
I sigh. I don’t know whether to protest or be fucking grateful I have a friend who has my back. In the end, I fall on the side of grateful. “I’ll see you then. I’m going to order in some pizza if you’re hungry too. I didn’t eat on the flight.”
“Perfect.”
When James arrives, the full gravity of the disaster has hit me as I’ve paced back and forth in my living room. I confirm what James has told me—for the most part, the Aidan stuff has been pushed down on the search results with my latest efforts. Which I’m going to take as a silver lining in my storm cloud, at least for some distance from Aidan. Though it’s a negative thousand points for me personally on both the whole new future King situation and my feelings about Stefanos. Which are going to need to get shoved away like all the others. Because missing or wanting Stef isn’t helping me or him one bit. Or remembering how firm his muscled chest was under my hand or the sensation of his lips on mine, and I swear I could feel how hard he was against me when he shoved me against the door before I left.
God, I’m totally doomed.
After James rings through, I buzz him up and open the door as he reaches my landing. He tuts and gives me a hug before walking in, passing me some beer. I shut the door behind him as he slips out of his parka, revealing his rugby shirt and jeans. He puts his shoes neatly aside. I head to the kitchen and set to the business of pouring the ale.
Once we sit on the sofa, James lounges back and puts his feet up on the ottoman. He sips and watches me with great fascination. “Did you call your legal counsel?”
“What? No. Should I?” Alarm rises as I stare at him.
He shrugs. “It depends on what you did. Tell me, and I’ll tell you.”
“I don’t think you’re qualified as either a barrister or solicitor.”
James waves me off like he did over the call in the car. “Semantics, old thing. I can moonlight as your armchair counsel for five minutes. Now, dish.”
I roll my eyes and get straight to the point. “I, er, distracted Stefanos, who was at the helm because it’s a lot more his yacht than it is my yacht—obviously, not my yacht at all—and we very accidentally sailed into a reef at full speed. A reef, by the way, which has no business being out on the open water. Which, incidentally, should be deep. I don’t know what nature was thinking. I mean, if you ask me, it’s the reef’s fault.”
“Mm. For future reference, coral polyps do love shallow waters, and they hang out there for a very long time to make a reef, so you weren’t on the wide-open seas.” James looks like he’s weighing out his advice. His attention is rapt.
“How do you even know that?” I look at him, aghast.
“I sail occasionally. And, by the way, they teach us to avoid reefs.”
“Right. Okay. Also, I’m not sure how I feel about you using the word polyp in my home.”
James shrugs, and then unrestrained curiosity crosses his face in a way that makes me nervous. “And how, exactly, did you distract the captain?”
“Well, before your mind heads south, we were having a very respectable conversation about my royal future, and he wasn’t watching the GPS, and we hit the reef.”
“Just like that?” James looks skeptical. “Also, you shouldn’t only rely on the GPS when you’re in shallow waters.”
I gesture expansively before reaching for my ale again. “I don’t know anything about GPS or shallow waters.”
“The point is, either way, he should have been paying attention as the captain. And we all know you’re very fascinating when you want to be.”
Shaking my head, I snort. “Hardly. I was minding my own business and…” Then I falter, remembering how Stefanos looked in the moment, with all his attention focused on me. His expression soft and open, as if what I said or did truly mattered to him, as if it were something important. Something worth listening to.
“And?” James prods.
“And I nearly kissed him,” I confess at last. If I can’t tell James, who can I tell? “Except I didn’t have time to do that before we struck the reef. Most everything else you can see online, after that.”
“I did catch the rescue. Very dramatic.”
“Of course you did.”
James peers at me. “I didn’t know you and Stef were in a kissing sort of place.”
