Royal Fake Fiance (Dirty Royals #4) - Vivian Wood Page 0,4

smile, biting her lower lip as she rushes over to me. Warmth splashes through my insides like warm water, filling me to the brim.

Thank god.

“Sorry! I’m so, so late!” Pippa exclaims, elbowing two guys out of her way. Her accent is British, her o’s short and her a’s choppy.

She stops short, hugging herself nervously as her eyes dance over me. There has always been an unspoken rule between us, ever since we were kids.

No hugging.

No touching.

Trust me, it’s been a savior for me, time and time again.

I shrug, pointing to a booth. “Want to go sit down?”

I can see hesitance on her heart shaped face. “What about your, uh… friends?”

I turn my head, only at this moment remembering that the other girls are still at the bar. The blonde is currently looking at Pippa with judgmental, jealous eyes.

“Oh. You girls don’t mind if I go talk to my friend, do you?” I paste on my fakest, most charming smirk. “I’ll be back in a bit, if you’re still here.”

It’s not really a question. I’m not interested in their input, really.

I lean in, brushing against the blonde and wink as I scoop up my glass of water. Then I make eye contact with the bartender, holding up two fingers and pointing to the booth where I’ll be at. He nods and I walk away, swaggering over to the dark little booth where Pippa is making herself at home.

I slide into the other side of the cracked black leather booth, peeling off my jacket. Pippa pushes her coat off, spreading her palms flat against the dark wood of the table. She sighs, craning her neck.

I let my eyes wander down her pale, graceful neck and slip down to her pronounced collarbones. I don’t look at her slash of exposed cleavage; that’s another unspoken rule.

Don’t touch her. Don’t even look at her.

And if you do look, don’t get caught staring.

“It has been the longest day ever,” she declares, running her hand over her face. “When did other people become so bothersome?”

My laugh leaves my chest in a rumble. I tilt my head at her. “I’ve always thought they were pretty awful.”

She wrinkles her nose. “Some of them are.”

The bartender brings us two fresh drinks. We come here quite a bit, enough for him to know what we drink. A fizzy cocktail for Pippa, a whiskey soda for me.

“Thanks,” I say, lifting the glass at him.

Pippa’s lips curve and she raises her glass, clinking it against mine. “Here’s to people being the worst.”

I smile as I take a sip, the honeyed sweetness of the whiskey balanced by the bubbles and sharp tang of alcohol. Rolling it around in my mouth for a moment, I sit back.

She makes a satisfied sound. “That’s a nice cocktail. Speaking of which, I thought you were laying off the liquor for the next few months.”

“Thanks, mor. I am bending my own rules a little, ja. But I will be the one who pays the price when my alarm goes off at five. Besides, I wouldn’t even still be here if you weren’t so late.”

Her cheeks color a little. “I said I was sorry. And anyway, you seemed to have found your own company, as usual.”

She arches a brow and gestures to where I left the girls sitting at the bar. The corners of my mouth curl upward. “You left me to fend for myself. What can I say?”

She sighs, shaking her head. “You are a womanizer, through and through.”

I shrug, sipping my drink. “I think we can both agree that I’m not the best choice for anyone. Fathers, lock up your daughters!”

I chuckle to myself. Pippa rolls her eyes.

“Yes, yes. You’re a big, brooding bad boy. I get it, okay? Trust me, everybody gets that it’s your thing.”

I laugh at her dismissiveness. “Ja, ja. I just tell it like it is.”

Her lips quirk. “I think you’re just afraid to let yourself get comfortable. Every night, a new bed. Every day, you’re doing some harebrained, dare-devil stunt for the sake of… I don’t know… adrenaline, I guess?”

She shudders.

“Hey, don’t act like I haven’t grown up in the… what, eleven years you’ve known me?” I smirk at her.

“Twelve years,” she says, toying with the rim of her glass. “Okay, example one. You’re still a pilot in the Royal Air Force. Example two, I know about you applying for the European Space People, or whatever. The royal family may think that you’ve matured, but I am not fooled so easily.” Her eyes

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