We ride the tube to Victoria Station but when the train slows, Royce seems to get quieter and quieter. He’s eying the sea of people waiting to get on this tube after our group exits. I can tell he’s warring with a new wave of doubt.

We wind up stairs and head through the tube exit turnstiles, heading for the main station. Once there, we stop at one of the rail ticket kiosks where Royce expertly inserts his credit card, then says, “Don’t look. I’m still trying to surprise you a little.”

I turn away, watching his finger move out of the corner of my eye over a touch screen as he finishes his ticket transaction. The machine spits out a pile of cards and he looks at them reading out, “Platform Three.” Then he glances at his phone app, muttering, “That’s located at the other side of the building. Damn.”

“It can’t be far,” I say, keeping my voice sunny.

“We have to cross through all of those people.” Royce nods toward the crush of commuters swarming like ants in every direction, then swallows in this way that looks like it might have hurt. “Oh, man.”

I squeeze his arm. “Remember? This is fun. Whatever happens. Fun.”

“Fun.” He nods, repeating. “Fun. Okay. But if we survive this, we’re both going to have a beer when we get to that Fish and Chips pub, because the legal drinking age over here is eighteen and we will have both earned it.”

I laugh. “I’d already planned to taste my first alcohol by trying Champagne in Paris, but if a beer puts a smile on your face after this, then I’ll try one of those today.”

His brows draw together. “You’ve never tasted alcohol. Not even a beer?”

I shrug. “Not even a beer.”

His silver eyes have narrowed and he’s shaking his head. “Of course you haven’t. Why am I not surprised?” Looking even more distraught, he glances again at the throngs of people, then runs both hands over his eyes like he’s suddenly got a headache. He starts muttering so quietly but I catch him saying, “What am I doing. Really. What am I doing here with this never-tasted-beer girl? Hunter was right. What in the hell am I doing?”

“You’re taking me to see a real castle, remember?” I whisper-joke, cutting in, but then get I worried, because he doesn’t smile how he should have. Worse, the expressions crossing his face as he glances between me and the crowd are getting steadily darker.

“Royce?” I pick up his hand and search his eyes. “Like I’ve said all along, it’s your call if you want to call this off. Honest. Fish and chips can be handled via room service. If it’s causing you this much stress or if you don’t think it is safe, then we can stop and just hang out.”

I feel like I can hear his heart beating through our connected palms, but finally he utters out, “I don’t think it’s safe. Not at all safe for either of us. But, shit, Robin. Is any of this?” His laugh is short and sounds sarcastic. “If you learn one thing about me today while we get to know each other better, it’s that I’m stubborn and I think where you’re concerned, I’m horribly selfish.”

“What do you mean by that?”

“I mean we should get a cab out of this station immediately and return to the hotel, but I don’t want to stop any of this… fun, as we’re calling it. I also don’t want to stop this feeling I’ve been having all day…nor do I want to stop this journey or this friendship we’re forging together, or—whatever it is we’re calling what we’re doing or becoming together as this fake married entity.”

“Then don’t. Don’t define it or us. It’s probably impossible anyhow.” I shrug. “Just…live it. Love it. That’s what I’m doing.”

He pauses and his curt-cutting laughter sounds very self-depreciating. “I’ve been doing the same, yet my whole core tells me I should shut this down. Stop it now. Stop… us from going forward because I worry you’re going to get hurt.”

“Isn’t that also part of your core? You’ve been worried about that since the day you met me,” I try to joke again, but that line only makes his frown darker.

He sighs and this time he sounds sort of sad as he answers, “Yes, but that’s where the selfish part begins. That core—it also tells me to move full speed ahead with whatever happens between us. It urges me to gobble this all up carelessly, like people do with candy Halloween night. Only. I care. I know this is bad for us somehow, bad for you, but…”

His gaze is tormented and confused when it finally meets mine in earnest. “I just want to keep being this normal guy. The one who gets to hang out with this beautiful girl. Mostly because I’ve never been that normal dude before, and it—this?” He gestures around the train station where no one is looking at us at all. “This feels amazing. To be free and unwatched and unnoticed, is addictive as hell. It’s made me truly want to play out what it would feel like to be this real couple on our way to tour a castle for a weekend.”

I blink at him. “But…that is exactly what we are doing. Like… if anyone does discover who we are, we’re going to tell them that we are a newly married couple, sneaking away on a romantic weekend. Right? Nothing is going to happen. Nothing.” I beam at him, trying to jog him out of whatever dark thoughts he’s having. “I also get to be the beautiful girl inside of this scenario. And, if you’ve never felt normal before, I can admit that I’ve never felt like the beautiful girl before. So…there. See? Added awesomeness for both of us.”

He locks gazes with me like I’ve startled him. “Robin. To me, you’ve always been the beautiful girl. Always.”

“Aww.” I shake my head, playing off the surge of pleasure and the fluttering-spin his words brought to my stomach with a little shrug as I quip back to him the first thing that comes to my mind: “Well to me, you’ve always been a very normal guy.”

Shaking his head, he reaches forward to run a finger along my cheek and then he takes up my hand to pull me closer like he’s going to whisper something to me.

I step into the circle of his arms, cocking my head to the side, waiting to hear what he’s got to say next. Which is when this sensation that he’s thinking about kissing me hits me so hard it makes me turn my head up and stare at his beautiful, smiling mouth as much as I think he’s staring at mine.

It…he…the pressure of his hand, the way his silver eyes seem to have turned to molten-fire makes me hope…wish…want things I’ve got no right to want, when he’s only being nice to me. Involuntarily I lick my lower lip in anticipation I think he’s started to dip his head low, but instead he utters. “We’re going to miss the train.”

He’s spun away from me so quickly, I’m nearly reeling from his disconnect and from how the temperature between us dropped about ten degrees instantly.

As I pull in a shuddering breath, wondering if I’d imagined all of that, I make my feet follow him as he calls over his shoulder like nothing at all had just passed between us, “Stay close and don’t call out my name. Okay?”

I think I’ve answered, “Okay,” in what I hope was a loud and cheerful voice, but I’m not certain, because the rush of my absolute embarrassment is pounding too loudly in my head to let any other sounds enter.