“Why do you always ask me that? Trying to get me shirtless?” I tease, belatedly realizing it might not be the most appropriate comment to make since she’s currently engaged to someone else.

Viv just grins. “We have a couple hours before dinner if you want to go swimming.”

I may have just teased her about it, but I’m equally eager for the opportunity to see her in a bikini again. Before she dropped the princess bomb on me out at sea during our ill-fated sailing trip, I was having difficulty stringing a coherent thought together.

“Sure,” I reply.

“Okay, I’m going to change. I’ll come back to grab you so that you’re not wandering around until dinner trying to find the pool.”

“You joke, but it would likely happen.”

She smiles. “Okay, I’ll be back.”

“Okay.”

She seems reluctant to leave, but eventually she turns and exits the room. I stay rooted in place, trying to readjust to the rapid change of events that’s taken place over the past twenty minutes. I take a seat in a chair that looks like it’s several centuries old and pull out my phone.

“Wassup?” Anderson answers.

“You seriously answer the phone like that?”

“I knew it was you, Dawson. I’m much smoother with the ladies.”

“I’ve yet to see that happen,” I refute.

“I think She Who Will Not Be Named might disagree with you there. I did get her to a football party.”

I’m silent, and Anderson misreads it.

“I know, I know. I’m sorry I brought it up. So, what’s up? Did you just leave practice or something?”

Fuck it. “No. I’m in Marcedenia. At the palace.”

Anderson bursts out laughing. “Glad you’ve finally gotten your sense of humor back, dude. Where are you really?”

“I’m serious.”

“What? You’re actually in Marcedenia?” Muffled exclamations come through the other end of the line following his words.

“…tell him…” I hear Owens’ voice for a brief second.

“Wait, where are you?”

“I did just finish practice. I’m in the locker room right now.”

Shit. “Why didn’t you tell me that before?”

“How the hell was I supposed to know you were going to bring her up? You haven’t done so in almost a year. And it’s not my fault the guys are all gossipy fucks.”

Laughter and shouts come through in the background.

“So? What the hell are you doing there? You’re actually at the palace? Have you seen her?”

A knock sounds on my door.

“Shit, hang on a minute. There’s someone at the door. Probably the butler.”

“There’s fucking butlers?” Anderson yells.

I laugh before I set down the phone on the embellished table sitting next to the door.

I open the door to not a butler like I’m expecting, but rather Viv wearing a sheer sundress that more than hints at the light blue bikini she’s wearing underneath. She’s pulled her hair up in a bun, but a few wayward strands have already fallen around her face. I simply stare at her for a moment.