The doorbell rang as I was on the stairs, coming down to join the rest of the world after my jet lag hibernation. “I’ll get it,” I called out to Dad and Sheila and Jess. Rubbing my eyes, I opened the door to expect Aaron or Carter or Linna but what I found was way better.

“Hi.” Aiden offered me a smile.

“You’re here,” I said in disbelief.

“For you.”

“Oh my God!” I jumped him, flying into his arms and kissing him. I didn't care that the last time we’d talked I’d bitched him out for the tabloids and being publicly shamed and Alex.

He squeezed so hard my ribs ached from the embrace as he folded himself around me. “Fin,” he said with relief, “I missed you being part of my air.” He inhaled me, burrowing into my hair and neck.

“I can’t believe you still came.” I pulled back and pressed my lips against his before he could say anything. I closed my eyes and melted into the kiss as it grew from surprise to desire, then words we didn't have chance to say yet. It had been weeks since we’d seen each other. There was a lot to say. Particularly after my classes at school had gone so poorly. I was the talk of campus and everyone was either #TeamFin or they were #FintheFake fans. My pictures were everywhere. Eating in the hall was out of the question. I couldn't even get across the country without people stopping me. The airport had been brutal. My choices had been either a hoodie and sunglasses like a criminal or a million bad photos.

But he was here and none of that other stuff mattered.

His hands roamed down my back to my butt as he stepped into the house, lifting me into his arms. I wrapped my legs around his waist as he walked blindly in and closed the door, leaning against it.

My warm hands cupped his cold cheeks, clinging to him as we settled arguments and attacked one another with the emotions that were left over from weeks of being strong. I slid my hands into his hair, kissing him like never before. But he was the same, furious or desperately upset about the situation we found ourselves in. He shared himself with me, without saying a single word.

A soft moan escaped my lips as he trailed his lips and kisses along my cheek and neck. I struggled from his arms and turned to run back up the stairs, to drag him with me, but my dad was in the foyer, grinning. “Aiden, my boy. You came! Fin didn’t think you would.” He clasped his hands and walked toward us, interrupting what was about to be epic.

Disappointment crushed me, leaving my lips as a slight sigh.

“Sir, it’s nice to see you again.” Aiden was trying to get his breath, but he held out his hand for my father to shake, while smiling calmly like we hadn’t just been making out mercilessly. “I wasn't sure I would be able to, but I’m very excited it worked out.” He slid an arm over my shoulders and pulled me into him, squishing me.

“That’s great. Come on in.” Dad nodded his head at the far side of the foyer. “Are you staying with us, Son?”

“No. I have reserved at the Davenport.” He glanced back at the front door. “I always have an entourage, it would seem.”

“Oh, we have plenty of room. Is it Tracy and Isaac? They are always welcome.”

“It is, but they would prefer to wait outside.” Aiden didn't sound the same as before. He was polite but firm, which he’d always been with me but not my dad. “And Fin doesn’t like them anymore.” Aiden cracked a dangerously timed grin.

“Welcome to the world of women, my boy. There’s not much they like.” Dad laughed and pointed at the door again. “Well, come on in.”

“Dad, we need to have a small conversation first.”

“Why don't you two take a walk?” Dad’s eyes narrowed, no doubt certain about the type of conversation I wanted to have.

“Of course,” Aiden agreed and took my hand in his. “Get your coat.”

“I don't want to go for a walk,” I argued but neither man budged on the fact we were going outdoors. My father’s expectant stare got more demanding. I wanted to argue I was in college and technically engaged, what did it matter if we went to my room? But Aiden’s unimpressed look suggested I should just get the jacket and go out into the cold afternoon. Losing the silent battle, I grabbed my coat and slipped on my boots, zipping up and following Aiden outside. “Be back in a bit, Dad.”

“Okay. And Aiden, I hope you’re planning on spending Thanksgiving dinner with us tomorrow night.”

“Yes, sir. I’d love nothing more.”

“Excellent. Sheila will have dinner ready for six.” He waved us off and closed the door.

“I like that he still plays at Sheila doing the cooking,” I grumbled and slid my hand into Aiden’s.

The dark-colored SUV in the driveway, with Isaac and Tracy sitting in front, made me groan.

“We’re not going for a walk. Get in the vehicle.” Aiden pulled me to the passenger door and opened it for me. I climbed in begrudgingly, not greeting either guard.

Tracy pulled out of the driveway, though no one spoke, as if he just knew where Aiden wanted to go.

Aiden reached over, taking my hand in his and holding it tightly. We had unfinished business and conversations and passion. It was a strange sensation being angry and wanting someone at the same time.

We drove across the city from where I lived to downtown in silence, just holding hands, as if on pause.

When we got to the Historic Davenport, the best hotel in town, that wasn't at a casino, Isaac jumped out and opened Aiden’s door. The valet got my door for me.

Spokane wasn't Europe or Scotland. It was easy to be missed here. No one would celeb stalk a random prince from a weird little country. We hurried inside to the elevator, and I saw from the faces of the hotel employees, they knew who he was.

Aiden gripped my hand in the elevator. I wasn't sure if the tension belonged in the bedroom or a boxing ring. He hurried to the door behind Isaac, letting him open it and explore the room quickly before allowing us inside.

Isaac tried to make eye contact with me but I avoided it.

Seeing him brought up issues I was sure we could resolve.

Aiden pulled me into the room and closed the door, staring at me, maybe not certain where to start.

“Thanks for coming.” I decided to try to be positive.

He didn’t speak, just stared, his eyebrows knit and his fingers twitched like he was already touching me.

“It’s done,” he finally offered, completely confusing me until he pulled a small envelope from the pocket of his charcoal pea coat and handed it to me. My name was scrawled delicately in fine calligraphy.

I took the stiff envelope, sliding my finger in and pulling it open. Inside was a card the same size as the envelope. When I slipped it out, my breath hitched, caught in my throat on the lump the words “You’re Invited” created.

I saw flashes of words: Christmas Eve, coronation, Aiden. My stomach tightened and lurched at the same time.

“Oh,” was all I managed to say.

It was done.

He would be king.

There was a date.

A real date.

A true end of his being a prince—of his time being flexible—of him being able to travel.

Christmas Eve.

It was a month away.

One month.

I struggled to breathe, my fingers trembling as I processed what it all meant.

His dad.

His future.

Our love.

My college.

“Don't say anything, not yet,” he said softly, watching me, my trembling fingers, my terrified expression.

Before I could say a single thing, he rushed me, scooping me into his arms, lifting and carrying me across the suite and into the other room. He laid me down on the bed. I lost the card and envelope somewhere along the way. I wished it were that easy to lose those details.

He pulled his jacket off, dropping it to the floor and climbed onto the bed, hovering over me.

I left everything he’d said, and hadn’t needed to, in the other room.

In this moment, this space, a stolen bubble of existence, I pulled him down on top of me and just loved him. And let him love me. And stopped anything else from entering the room.

The clothes were nearly ripped off.

Shoes kicked across the room.

Sheets dragged and ruffled, bunching under us uncomfortably.

Kisses.

Thrusts.

Eyes closed, hearts open.

Moans and gasps were a soundtrack.

It was ruthless and savage the way we devoured each other.

He paused midway, hovering over me with his hair falling forward over his eyebrows and tangling in his eyelashes, his lips parted and breathing heavily, staring for the moment of reprieve he clearly needed. “God, you’re beautiful.”

There was nothing to discuss after that.