The bodyguards push Royce and I into the waiting London Eye capsule because the crowd of people who are now waiting in line has grown so big they’re worrying someone might start a riot.

While we were on the speed boat, Royce tweeted once what we were up to, and when we arrived at the base of the London Eye, I couldn’t believe how many people had beat us there.

As the thick glass doors on the capsule slide shut, we soak up the silence between us by both walking around the tiny oval shaped cab, admiring the long, low wooden bench (also oval) placed in the center of the cab is made. Instead of seats going all around the edge, making people face each other, this single seat can accommodate a lot of people and it’s positioned so that people might sit all around it with back’s facing backs, and all eyes pointed out to the view.

Royce, crossing his arms over his chest as usual, looks worried as he pauses to scan the ever increasing crowd. “This is all my fault. I shouldn’t have posted there’d be rides for any fan who showed up, huh? I should have put a number on that. Sorry we have to wait here while they sort things out.”

“I don’t mind. It’s kind of interesting, actually. Feels like we’re real fish inside of a fish bowl.”

He snorts, “Yeah…well. You call it that and I call it just another normal day.” He glances up at the structure holding the capsules onto the wheel. “Did you know this thing moves so slowly it takes about thirty minutes to go around it once? It actually never stops to load and unload? Once they get it going the other people will simply walk-on and walk off sort of like a giant version of how some ski gondolas work.”

“I’ve never been on a ski gondola, so I’ll take your word for it, but I could sit in here all day checking it out, because it’s designed so beautifully.”

“Well, that’s good because I have paid for us to go around three times. If the speed thing is true, we will be in here for an hour and a half. And if the crowd can’t be contained somehow, we might stay in here forever.” He waves at the crowd, and we can hear the cheering go twice as loud outside.

Laughing at his cynical expression, I glance back over my shoulder at the crush of smiling people and wave along with him. “Aww. It’s going to be awesome. It’s so much bigger than I thought it would be in here.” I point to the bench. “The design of the bench, and the way they’ve framed in the glass makes is like…a tiny greenhouse. Do you have that sensation?”

“Yes. Yes I do.” He’s smiling, looking around at each thing I’ve pointed out. “Each capsule usually holds twenty-five people, and, at thirty bucks per person, that fact is going to really piss off my accountant.”

“And it’s going to make so many people out there happy.”

“Always looking to the bright side, you.”

“Always worrying too much, you. The accountant won’t be upset if it gets you the right kind of social media marketing.” I grin, trying to distract him from the mob outside.

He nods, still looking worried. “I suppose you’re right, and damn, those speedboats were a blast, huh?”

“So fun.” I admire the boyish twinkle in his eyes. “Thank you for thinking up this day. It’s really too much, but I’m loving the distraction.”

“That’s all I need to hear.” The smile he’s giving me is so genuine and so brilliant it takes my breath away. “Thank you for agreeing to do all of this with me. I’ve decided doing first-time adventures with you is the best fun I’ve had in my life.” He motions around the cab. “Every day is like a challenge to me now. I wake up and think…what will make Robin smile.”

“Why?” I blurt out, even though I know it’s possibly rude.

“What?” He furrows his brow.

I shake my head, wondering at his expression. “I…I don’t know. I mean, I get that perfect, romantic dates like these are all part of the mirage we’re sending out to the world, but after the last few days when you haven’t left my side, and how you’ve just been doing everything with me and for me. How you’ve patched me and Sage back together. How you have worked so hard to make us adjust to this new and endless level of waiting we’re all now doing for news of our father, even though it appears we’ll never hear anything more.” I shrugs. “I guess…I can’t help but wonder if you’d rather be doing other things. So…I just don’t get, why? Why are you so kind and generous with me, Royce?”

“Because…because it’s so easy? Because you’re so considerate and nice to me back, and I’m talking every chance you get. Because you don’t expect it, because you don’t want anything from me other than for me to be myself.” His brow furrows like he’s surprised at my questions, and he’s searching for better answers. “Because we’re friends now, right? Real friends. Right? Amazing good friends, and you’ve had one hell of a shitty week so I’m just doing what feels right. And because I know you’d do exactly the same as I’m doing for you, and…shit, after all we’ve been through, Robin. I’ll go so far as to say you’re becoming one of the best friends I’ve ever had.” His brow furrows and his lips turn down into a small frown as he flicks me a cautious look. “You don’t feel the same way about me? Tell me the truth?”

My heart flips a little at his last request, but as much as I don’t lie to people, I’m not going to admit the truth behind my feelings for him. What would I say? That somewhere in that castle after he kissed me, and then somewhere a couple of days ago when I woke up to find him holding me while I’d been asleep—that I’ve fallen head over heels, forever-in -love with him? No. No way. It would freak him out, so instead I answer, “Yeah. I mean. I guess I do feel the same. I guess…I just wanted us both to say it out loud.” I tap the glass with my fingers, staring out at the view. “It’s just hard to know what’s real and what’s not real with us sometimes. That’s all, and so I’m really happy our friendship is so solid now. It feels great.”

“Yeah. I guess you’re right to ask, but understand, please that me, being nice to you, is real. Always and forever. As for our friendship? Damn, Robin, that’s so fucking real to me.” He shakes his head. “If that turned out to fake at this point, it would break my heart. So…please don’t do that to me.”

“I wouldn’t. It’s real. It’s real for me, too. Very.” I laugh, hating the forlorn expression that crossed his features. “Thank you for clarifying. But know, you don’t have to do these huge epic things for me. Like taking me to castles and booking up whole Ferris wheels and… taking me on speedboats. The last few days of hanging out watching movies and doing nothing up in the hotel suite was also perfect.”

He turns with a sigh and leans his back against the glass of the capsule and grabs my hands so he can pull me to face him. “I know that. I just…like doing it. Love…doing it. You make me realize that I missed a lot of fun and excitement as I toured cities like London the first time.”

I keep my eyes lowered, watching as he turns my hands over in his, and runs his tanned thumbs across my palms in this way that makes the back of my neck get tingly. “Which was when?” I ask.

“Which was what? When—what?” His voice is catching in that sexy way that makes me afraid to look up at his face, because I know, if I do, I’ll wish he would kiss me. I’ll also wish that he were way more than just my good friend.

“When was your first time to London?” I press on, shoving my thoughts away.

“Oh.” He laughs. “The first time to Europe was right after Guarderobe formed. Newt TV sent us on a mini-tour. We were sixteen. It was the year before Hunter got so depressed and had to go away to Colorado. I remember we were trying to be so damn cool. The band was skyrocketing to fame and we were more focused on stupid stuff like buying our first cars. Oh, and we were all really into sneaker collecting, if you can believe that. We didn’t know how to be comfortable in our own skin let alone be comfortable as famous rockstars. We also had huge fan-screamer-mobs like these chasing us all around. We did think that was kind of cool because of…the girls…well. You know.”

“Well, what about the girls?” He shrugs and glances outside, as I arch a brow asking again, “What?”

He sighs. “I’m not going to lie about it. We were all really into how our fame let us get any girl we wanted, and we were all pretty consumed with…the easy access to…everything.” He shakes his head when I pull a face. “Those girls would do anything we asked them to do. It was…an insane and very…educational time.” He chuckles at my grimace and continues, “Which means, we didn’t take the time to understand the history and the beauty of what we were seeing, and no one ran away to any castles, that’s for damn sure.”

“But you came to Europe again on other tours. What happened then?”

“More of the same.” He shrugs. “Things became habit. We worked so hard we were like hamsters running around on a wheel and we couldn’t hop off. The time passed and I guess, that’s when Adam started running away. We took city hopping for granted, but traveling with you gives me this chance to make it all new again. I don’t think you take anything for granted.”

I pull a sarcastic face. “Yes I do. Please.” I point at the screaming crowd outside. “Like, here we are talking as though this is totally normal to have shut down the entire London Eye, and I hardly notice the people staring and screaming at us anymore. Is that not suddenly taking all of this…for granted?”

“Not what I mean.” He shakes his head and tugs at a curl hanging over my shoulder until it pulls straight, then he lets it go, watching it curl back up again. “You made me see the architecture of this capsule. You always point out how you see your world—and to me, your world is simply breathtaking. It’s because you’re wonderful, and an artist, or maybe because those eyes of yours see more—connect to little details no one else would notice because they’re so darn big.” He grins, laughing at that as do I. “I don’t know, Robin. You constantly make me wonder if I was blind or existing in an unconscious state before I met you.”

“Aww,” is all I can say, because my heart has swelled so much when I smile into his moon-beam eyes, I can’t say what I’m really thinking: that no one in my entire life has ever said anything so sweet to me before. And now, just on the day I’ve vowed to not be in love with him one bit more, my heart is going to belong to Royce Devlin forever.

Suddenly, the air between us seems to crackle, and I’m staring at his lips so hard I’m relieved when the capsule jolts and swings, breaking the tension between us just as Royce’s bodyguard knocks the glass, his voice hardly comes through the capsule as he shouts, “Are you two still a go? We’re paid and approved now to fill it up with your fans. Last chance to get out.”

Royce thumbs-up back, but when he realizes that motion means we’re going up to the top, I can tell by the way his eyes are flicking around that he’s nervous.

The capsule begins this almost slow-motion movement, and I almost laugh out loud as Royce drops my hands to grip the sides the glass behind him like the thing’s about to detach and drop us to the ground. Which is still only about two feet below us.

He breathes deep and I smile pretending he’s not hilarious as we watch some of the press that’s come along for the ride crowds into the first capsule below us. Some are already pointing cameras up at us. I try to catch my reflection in the glass because I can feel my hair starting to curl up, probably because it got damp from the speed boat ride as it zoomed up the fog laden river.

“Shit.” Royce grips the glass again as we rotate higher, then laughs at himself and let’s his arms drop to his sides and shrugs his shoulders. “I’m nervous. Can you tell?”

“Not as nervous as I am now,” I blurt out, pulling my hair out of its bun and finger combing some of the thick-curl-locked mess.

“Why?” His eyes are going over my hair, and then going over it again.

“We should have had the stylists hop in here and help us clean up after the boat ride. And now about two billion photos of us are going to go to print. We’re going to look like the Beverly Hillbillies go to London instead of how we’re supposed to look.”

I feel bad because the laughter’s left his voice and he’s shaking his head…probably because he agrees with me.

“Don’t stare. I know it’s a mess,” I whisper, tugging the hair more. “The boat tangled it. I’ll get it back in the bun and then—” I drop my hair band and it lands at his feet. When I look at him, he’s still just there—gaping at me. “I said, don’t stare.”

“No, I wasn’t staring like that.” He bends to collect the hairband and he hands it back to me. “I was staring because it’s…you’re stunning. Honest. I think it’s co cool when it curls up how it does. I was analyzing how it looks four inches shorter right now.”

“Four inches shorter means five inches wider. It also means it’s about to spring so huge it will fill up this capsule.” I laugh, rolling my eyes. “From how dense it feels, I’m sure I look like a clown, but I have to leave it down to dry or I’ll freeze all day long, because it will stay damp.” I shrug. “And if that happens, I’ll have a major cold for Paris.”

“And we don’t want that.” His eyes do that shuttered-dark thing as he watches me take up the edges of hair that are around my face and twist them in my fingers a little, then pull only the twisted bits back behind my head and secure only them with the hairband. He adds, “I just realized that you never freak out about your hair like some girls I’ve met.”

“Yes I do. I’m pretty sure this is me, freaking out, duh,” I laugh again, making sure the band is secure and pulling on the length at the back, willing it to dry fast.

“Well if this is you, freaking out, it’s amazing because you did all of that without a mirror. In two twists and a smile you made it look even more beautiful, and you do it all minus a blow-dryer or a straightener, and minus a whole purse full of stinky-sticky products—all the time.” He crosses his arms over his chest. “It’s one of the things I love about you. How you’re not vain. I’ll never forget how your hair looked the day we met.”

“After I’d been running in one hundred degree Florida heat.” I laugh, shaking my head. “When you have hair with a mind of its own you don’t have a lot of options. I gave up the check-the-mirror fight years ago after I realized that I always look essentially the same no matter how hard I try.”

I walk to stand next to him so we can peer out at the view together, because we’re finally gaining some good height on the wheel. I think that because he’s been focused on me, he hasn’t noticed the slow rise of our capsule, but because I’ve been focused on him I want to keep him distracted so that tense look he’s wearing goes away so, I babble on, “Although, this hair does look really cool straightened and I love getting it done. I just don’t usually have the patience or the money it takes, because there’s so much I need help.” I nod when he doesn’t respond only stares out the window, his shoulders and back ratcheting to extra straight. “And today, I wouldn’t care at all what it looks like but, like…” I nudge him to distract him and point at the reporters in the capsule below us. “You told everyone you were going to kiss me, and so I get nervous if I know that’s coming. Especially if there’s going to be photos taken of us. It’s the buildup getting to me, I guess.” I breathe in a long breath and pick up his hand and place it over my heart and smile over at him as he grows still, pressing his hand against where my heart is beating.

He blinks, locking his eyes away from the view and onto mine. “Damn. I can feel that. It’s like you’re having a heart attack. The buildup to what?”

“To the…uh…kiss?” I feel the back of my neck growing hot as he widens and flattens his hand against my chest. “Every time, if I know one is coming up, it’s like wild horses in there.”

“Is it? Damn…I didn’t know.” He pulls his hand away and by his expression I get that he’s misunderstood the reason for the fast heartbeats. “We don’t have to kiss so much if you don’t want to. Seriously. We do not have to.” He sighs out a long sigh and his voice grows more tortured. “We’ve never talked about it—not since just before the wedding. I assumed it was…okay but we could totally adjust that if you need to? Have I been a total asshole? Shit.” He turns away slightly and lowers his head.

“Oh. I—no. I love—kissing you. Even though it’s fake or…whatever…it’s nice and,” I feel my cheeks going hotter and hotter. “And, after that amazing kiss in the castle, I want to kiss you on this Ferris wheel because…”

“You just scared me so badly. You want to kiss me because why?”

He’s picked up my hand and is now playing with it.

I shrug, trying to joke my way through this. “Because I’m like you were back when you were figuring stuff out. I’m looking for a little more…education and you’re an excellent teacher.”

“Christ. Don’t say shit like that to me,” He tilts his head in that cute way he does, and looks at me. Into me...

Heart racing more, because I swear I can suddenly feel the heat rising on his skin, and because I’m nearly blinded by the relief in his smile, I don’t tell him that my heartbeats just doubled with the sad idea that he’d stop kissing me all together.

He goes on, “Well…then, I suppose I’m happy to oblige…”

But instead of going for it how I’d hoped the guy ruins the moment by grimacing and gripping his hands to fists as he realizes we are at the very top of the wheel. His voice gets all shaky as he adds, “But…maybe as soon as this thing is a little closer to the ground?”

Even though I’m slightly disappointed I have to laugh, because he’s really cute all freaked out like this. I tear my gaze away from his lips and turn back to stare out at the Thames along with him.

Working to regain my equilibrium, too but for very different reasons, I breathe in deeply, working so I can talk without a catch in my voice, then add, “This will be a good one for the memory books, like you said. And…the press, as well as the fans who are riding along with us now… I’ll bet everyone is having a blast on this thing.”

“Right? Do you think they can see us in here? The tinting on the glass is darker than I expected.” He glances around the cab. “Hmm…maybe for the kiss, I should pick you up shove your back up against glass—so they can really tell we are all about it in here.” He laughs.

I swallow hard, but manage to laugh along with him because my stomach just dropped hard when butterflies shot down my spine so fast at his words.

Of course now that he’s said that…it’s hard to not imagine how a kiss like that would be. Feel. Worse, it’s really hard not to want a kiss like that…

As much as I know he’s joking right now, I want to say, yes-let’s do that, but instead I keep it together and answer, “This is supposed to be a romantic public kiss. Not Royce and Robin go wild in London kind of kiss where the press types that I’ve probably wound up fake-pregnant all thanks to our time here on the London Eye. Remember we’re trying to dissipate that rumor.”

“Wow. You’re right.“He belly laughs, adding, “So right. There should be a progression before people think I’ve knocked you up. First we kiss here romantically, and then we up the stakes at the Eiffel Tower kiss.” He scrunches his forehead, contemplating. “But wait…can I fake knock you up in Paris next week, then, or do I have to wait until we make it to Berlin?”

“Oh you’re funny. You will not fake knock me up one bit, because at the last press conference you told people we were waiting until I finished university.”

“Oh, yes, right. Lost my head there, imagining the fake pitter-patter of the little golden-curly-haired little babies we’d make. Anyone would be impatient for that.”

“Right?” I swallow, as another surge of butterflies hits the back of my throat, because…holy cow, in addition to kissing this guy here in London, I’m going to also probably kiss him in Paris…and then Berlin? My head screams, someone pinch me!

When I don’t answer any further, I could swear his cheeks get some color all the way to the tips of those amazing cheekbones of his. He looks sideways at me. “I’m talking like a crazy person.” His laugh sounds tight, worried—cute. “It’s not my fault. It’s the nervous energy I’ve got from being afraid of heights, and like…who can think straight after you admitted to those wild horses? I guess I’ve got them going on too, so…” He shakes his head, looking sideways at me. “Not me, that’s for sure. Not me.”

I laugh too, but before I can say more, he scoops me away from the glass walls of the capsule and sits with me on the oval shaped bench. Then he drags my legs up and over his so I’m halfway on his lap. “The buildup has started doing the same thing to my heart.”

This move reminds me of how he kissed me the night he asked me to marry him. Fake marry him. Even though I know this is all for show, just like it was then, I try not to care. Because, it’s like I said, kissing him is nice. So…very nice.

Our tongues find each other and I tilt my head back, opening the kiss for him more. I’m lost in that mind-wiping-heat thing he does to my body as my limbs go limp and this fire starts up in my belly. I love the soapy-cologne scent that is always just him and, breathing it in, I work to match the intensity of his kisses.

When he rains kisses down my neck so we can both catch a breath, and I push my fingers deep into his thick, curling hair deciding to place a few kisses next to his ear.

Like he can read my mind, he whispers against my ear, “You always smell amazing. And now that you’ve told me about your adorable crazy heart beats, I swear I can’t stop feeling them. It’s so noticeable…so…cute that you do that.” He’s buried his face into the side of my hair.

Shivers go down my back and I copy the ear-kiss-nibble thing he just did to me.

His lips find mine again, and somehow my hands creep up under his shirt at the same time his hands have gone up mine. Way up. His fingers brush over my bra. I gasp and lean into that feeling because it’s the first time he’s ever done that, and because, oh-my-wow, goosebumps and shivers and…that’s when I half notice that the capsule is all the way back to the top view point.

We’ve been making out for one whole rotation on this bench. But…didn’t Royce tell me it takes thirty minutes to do a whole rotation?

Again, like the guy can read my mind, he pulls his face back from mine and yanks his hands off my body, nearly shoving me away from him on the bench as he stands and reels back from me. “How long have we been doing this? Shit. I’m sorry. I totally lost it.”

I’d answer, but I can’t. I feel frozen solid. My skin is ice cold from how quickly he let me go, and I’m simply longing for him to return to me and place his hands back to where they so obviously fit. Besides, I want to tell him that I think we didn’t make out long enough. I know that’s not the answer he’s looking for, so to hide my desperate desire mixed with this strange desolate feeling that I can’t quite understand, I simply try to regain my own breathing as I stare down at my knees.

“Christ.” He says in that tone I know well—the tone that is him questioning if he’s a horrible person for what we just did. “I also think we put on more of a show than I wanted to. I’m sorry.”

“You know how you tell me not to apologize? Well, I don’t want you to ever feel sorry about kissing me again. You need to stop doing that.” I capture his gaze, still feeling all languid and dreamy as I try to rationalize him out of his worrying ways. “I’m pretty sure those were the best kisses so far. I don’t want to ruin them with guilt. The world thinks we’re married, we have a goal to achieve for the press, and we just did that and more. Why should we feel bad if we are getting really good at kissing each other? I see no point in feeling bad about this when it feels so darn good.”

“Wow. Okay. You’re right.” He laughs low, and for a moment those sliver eyes of his go over me, and they feel so hot I have this feeling he’s going to kiss me all over again, but he startles me by moving about as far away across the capsule that he can possibly get. “I—also—I also don’t want you to miss the last view of London. Tomorrow everything changes and it’s the Eiffel Tower we’ll be looking at together.”

Getting my bearings as the capsule finishes its second full circle, I try to ignore the burning on my lips as well as everywhere else, and I dutifully follow his lead, going to the opposite side of the capsule. I look out at the Thames river below us and wonder how, after a kiss like that, he and I can ever be the same with each other. Thankfully, I find my voice, and I manage to utter an inane response to him. “Yeah. Paris. I can’t wait for Paris.”

He doesn’t say more.

Maybe, like me, he’s just not capable. As the silence grows longer between us, I wish Royce Devlin could read my mind, because it’s spinning out of control right now.

With possibilities. With possibilities of more kisses like the one he and I just shared. Do we have to go back to being the same together? He said he loves being part of my firsts. Maybe I need to simply ask him if he and I can go to the next…level after all of this amazing kissing. Because…why not?