I’m not thrilled by the invitation. Gretchen and I have never hung out alone together. However, it certainly beats sitting at home getting sympathetic looks from my mother and little sister.

“Yeah, sure,” I reply.

She smiles. “Okay, I’ll text you when I’m finished with my shift.”

“Okay.”

She smiles at me again before heading over to the counter. I walk outside and head for the car to wait for Mike. He appears minutes later.

“Sweet!” he crows, grabbing the cup I hold out to him. “Thanks, Jace.”

I nod, taking a sip from my own cup. Gretchen walks out of the coffee shop clutching a pastry bag and waves as she walks past us.

“Is that Gretchen Williams?” Mike asks.

“Yeah, I ran into her inside.”

“Bet she was thrilled about that,” Mike mutters.

“What?” I ask.

“Jace, she’s always had a thing for you.”

I scoff. “Maybe in high school. I’m sure she’s over it now.”

Mike sighs. “I hate saying this because your ego is already healthy enough. But girls don’t seem to just get over you, Jace. I’m still scarred by the shit I saw at Lincoln. Remember that one girl who gave you her bra? At that diner?”

I shake my head, chuckling. “Yeah, I do.”

“My point is, those were girls who didn’t even know you. Gretchen does know you and still seems to like you.”

I roll my eyes.

“I know. It baffles me too,” Mike adds.

I laugh.

“Come on, you must have noticed how she acted with Vivie—” Mike stops speaking, and there’s an awkward pause between us. We’ve never discussed her. He clears his throat. “You had to have noticed Gretchen didn’t exactly seem thrilled you brought her home. Here.”

“No, I didn’t notice,” I reply. “I was…distracted.” Meaning I barely paid attention to anything but Vivienne that entire trip.

Mike snorts. “Yeah, you were.” There’s a long pause between us. “I still can’t believe you carried her across that field. Guess that’s the shit you have to do when you’re dating a princess, huh?”

I look out the window. I didn’t know Viv was royalty then, and I’m still not sure why I told my family I did. I guess I was worried they might resent her. I couldn’t have been more wrong. They all still love her, and in some ways that’s even worse.

After dinner, I tell my parents I’m going to meet Gretchen for a drink. They exchange a loaded glance and then proceed to give me the same lecture I’ve received since high school about the dangers of drunk driving. I’m a professional athlete who’s currently more famous than most movie stars, and they tag team me for twenty minutes about blood alcohol content and how, if I have more than one drink, I should call them. My siblings all mouth along the words, and I try not to laugh.

I arrive at Jerry’s to find Gretchen is already there. She’s wearing a tight top and jeans. Her hair and makeup suggest she spent some serious time on her appearance. My stomach sinks. I’ve been around enough girls to know what that means.