Wide-awake now, I sit up fully, staring at the phone and holding my breath. He’s typing, pausing, retyping.
I don’t know what to say. Yes I saw the post… I was surprised
Fuck me. I swallow hard.
Yeah. I’m very sorry
Then, I video call Stef, hoping he picks up. I scrunch up my face as I wait. One ring. Two rings. Three rings.
Of course he’s upset. Of course he doesn’t want to talk to me.
“Hey,” Stef answers, looking troubled.
“I’m so sorry, Stef. Believe me, I don’t feel anything for the Duke of Wiltshire. He’s a perfectly nice man that James is scheming over to make some fake dates for me. And James wanted it to be convincing last night. He had us kiss.”
Stef tilts his head, pressing his lips together in a line. “I still don’t know what to say. On one hand, I get it. On the other, I don’t. Especially after last night…”
“The photo with Edward was earlier in the night. I should’ve told you earlier.”
He runs a hand through his hair, giving me an uncertain look.
Way to go, Theo. You’ve ruined something else good.
“Where are you, anyway?” I try carefully. I don’t recognize the room he’s in.
“Amsterdam.”
I blink. “What’re you doing in Amsterdam?”
“I’ve got a layover overnight at my brother’s before I go to Athens.”
“I didn’t know you had a brother in Amsterdam.”
Stef looks bemused. “I have brothers everywhere. I’m staying with Giorgos, my oldest brother.”
I’m quiet for a long moment, searching his face for any hint, but he’s well schooled to neutral prince face as default. Which goes with the territory. “Would it be mad if I asked if I could come to see you?”
“Here?” Startled, Stefanos sits up more fully.
“Well, maybe not quite at your brother’s,” I say wryly. To be honest, I’d go anywhere he asked. “Unless you want me to, that is.”
Stef shakes his head. “Not at my brother’s.”
“’Kay. When? Where?”
His look of uncertainty remains as he chews his lip. “I don’t know.”
If only I knew how to make this better. My chest is tight. “I don’t want to pressure you into anything?—”
“It’s not that. Just…”
“Just?” I ask.
“I don’t know if this is going to help. This whole situation is a mess.”
“Do you want me to leave you alone?” I ask intently, rapt on him. My hands tremble. But I have to ask the question. And I have to live by the answer he gives me, whether I like it or not. My breath catches.
His voice is barely audible. “No.”
