Yet when I think of Xander, when I see his face in my memories, I’m willing to see where this goes. I’m willing to try, as crazy as that seems.
I feel that stupid, dreamy smile spread across my face as he comes to the front of my mind again. Luckily, Jeremy is in town. Isla is out to dinner with him tonight, and she texted to say she’ll be staying over at his flat this evening. So I can sit here in my state of stupefied Xander bliss, and nobody will see it.
I let out a happy sigh. These feelings are so foreign to me. Yes, I’ve liked boys before. I loved my first boyfriend, but I never thought about Jake in the way I do Xander. With Jake, I could think of him and then go on to think about a million other things.
But with Xander …
Instead, my mind is a short-circuit, going round and round with thoughts of him. It’s like a gear has been stuck in my head, one that relates to all things to do with Xander Wales, and I can’t unstick it.
It’s shocking and amazing and completely wonderful, all at the same time.
I sigh dreamily. Xander, Xander, Xander. I happily move through my assortment of memories with him, from bantering and seeing him raise that eyebrow at me to the way he kissed me as if I was the only woman he could ever kiss with that kind of passion.
I flop back onto the sofa—ouch! Damn, I shouldn’t do that when the sofa is the equivalent of a slab of rock. Isla loves her furniture on a level past firm, and since she bought it all, I have to live with it. Which I’m grateful for, as my income wouldn’t even cover the rent for this flat, let alone furniture purchases. Isla is a payroll manager for an upscale home décor company, climbing up through the ranks since her internship, and makes fabulous money. Which means she pays the rent and bought all the furniture for the common living spaces, whilst I pay for utilities and food.
Ha. Good thing she likes carbs and bread, and I save a tonne bringing home day-old loaves from the bakery.
Flopping back on her sofa, however, will leave a bruise on my back, in all likelihood.
I lie still, staring up at the ceiling, wondering what Xander is doing at Buckingham Palace. I know pics will be out tonight from the event, and if I can stay awake long enough, I’ll savour them all.
My phone begins ringing again. Ugh, I already know it’s Eva. I decide I’ve put her off long enough and stretch my arm out to swipe the phone off the coffee table. I just get it with my fingertips and edge it closer, and then I grab it. Yep, it’s Eva.
I answer it and close my eyes. “Hello?”
“Finally, you’ve managed to bloody answer your phone!” Eva snaps. I smile wryly. Her current mode of voice: massively annoyed.
“Hello to you, too,” I say.
“You need to tell me everything,” she says. “I want to know everything about Xander, down to the length of his damn eyelashes. I cannot believe my sister spoke to the most eligible bachelor in the world!”
I pause. Most eligible bachelor in the world. I have a date tomorrow night with the most eligible bachelor in the world. How is this happening? And how did I never even see him in that light?
I know why.
Because he’s Xander Wales to me.
“Why are you so quiet about this?” Eva shrieks into the phone. “Poppy. You met the Prince of Wales. Do you know how huge this is? I would die if I got that close to him!”
“He’s just a man,” I say absently.
A gorgeous, sensual, funny, intelligent, thoughtful, flirty, delicious man.
“Poppy. I’m about to come down to London and shake you until you speak.”
“Eva. I am speaking,” I say, grinning, as I know this is irritating her.
“Ugh, stop being annoying! What was he like?” she cries, utterly exasperated.
“He was very nice,” I say. “No airs at all. He placed the order himself and only had his protection officers with him.”
“Oh, were any of the officers hot? You know how the bodyguards in books are always so masculine and sexy.”
I nearly burst out laughing. Eva would be crushed to know that Xander’s personal protection officers—PPOs—have to blend in with crowds. So they are anything but super sexy guys you would want to see with their