Page 120 of Tabloid Princess

“This is too much.” I turned to face him, dragging my eyes away from her.

“Nothing is too much.” He reached for another bag. “And now, it’s very, very important that we fulfil our role here.”

“And what’s that?”

He put his hand in the bag and pulled out two sets of fairy wings.

“You can’t be serious! You’re going to wear fairy wings?”

I wished someone would stop the burning ache in my chest. I knew it spelled my utter destruction.

“Totally. It’s not a fairy party without wings.”

He reached into his pocket and pulled out a small gossamer bag. “And this is for you.”

My hand trembled as he placed it in my palm. “What’s it for?”

“A thank you for last night.”

I opened the ribbon and slipped out the contents. Inside was a beaded bracelet, which would have been relatively acceptable if the small round beads didn’t look like emeralds. Nestled within the beads were two small charms. One a gold heart; the other a golden crown, finished with small red stones.

“Oliver.”

“You have to accept it; it would be rude not to.”

Daisy swirled past and Oliver let go of my hand, reaching around to put on his wings. He got up and chased her, making her screech with as much intensity as my tickle monster did.

I stared at them, my heart and head warring with one another.

A heart and a crown lay in my hand; two things for me to own.

I curled my fingers around them and squeezed them tight.

* * *

Five minutes. ETA.

I read his text message on the burner phone, my heart thumping. It had been the same message every night for a week. Every time it arrived my heart went into overdrive and my body became a useless wreck of anticipation.

Even Wednesday, when Daisy and I had gone to the warehouse for princely toasted sandwiches, we’d returned home later and then I’d waited for his text.

Every day it continued—every single moment the fairy tale continued—it split me into half.

Half wanted to run, desperate to stick to the self-preservation I’d always clung to. The other half didn’t dare to wake up.

“You’re late.” I grinned as I swung open the door and he ducked inside.

“A prince is never late. He’s just very busy.”

“Utter nonsense. Five minutes is five minutes, and you’ve made me wait a whole six-and-a-half.”

His lips found mine, seeking and searching, tasting me with as much hunger as I wanted him. “How can I make it up to you?”

“I can think of a few ways.”

He pulled back and raised an eyebrow. “Is Daisy asleep?”

“Out like a light.”