Page 21 of My Prince

That was totally new. I was the one always looking for him and trying to track him down. It was totally work-related, though.

The familiar scent of leather and motor oil greeted me, a comforting reminder of the world I had become a part of. I found Fade in the main room, looking over some papers.

How did Fade always look so good? It was almost unfair. His faded jeans hugged his legs just right, and his white shirt, stretched over his muscular frame, contrasted perfectly with his black leather cut. Black motorcycle boots completed the look, giving him an air of rugged danger. His face, though—his face was like Prince Charming, all strong lines and piercing eyes. But his body screamed biker, a blend of power and raw masculinity that made it hard to look away. A motorcycle-driving Prince Charming.

“Hey,” I said, trying to sound casual.

“Hey,” he replied, looking up and giving me a small smile. “You ready for this?”

“I think I should be the one asking you that. You’re the one who’s been dodging me for days.”

“Well, you can mark today as the day you catch me.” Fade stood and folded the papers in half. “Let me just put these in my room.”

I nodded. “Why don’t you just meet me in the production room?”

I headed down the hallway to the makeshift production room while Fade trailed behind me and entered his room. As I stepped into the production room, I was glad to see that Garett had not only set up the camera but also the backdrop and stool, which were situated just right. I got my notes from my binder and read through them while waiting for Fade.

A few minutes later, Fade walked into the room. Just the sight of him made my stomach do a flip. Butterflies fluttered wildly as he approached. He looked effortlessly handsome in his faded jeans and white shirt, the black leather cut adding an edge to his Prince Charming face.

“Ready for me?” he asked, his voice smooth and confident.

I shook my head gently, trying to focus. “Uh, yeah. I am totally ready for you.”

Fade smirked and made his way over to the stool in front of the backdrop. I took a deep breath, trying to steady myself. This was just an interview, I reminded myself. Just an interview with a man who made my heart race and my thoughts scatter.

Easy peasy.

“Alright,” I said, taking my place beside the camera. “Let’s get started.”

Fade nodded, settling onto the stool with a casual grace that only made my butterflies worse. I glanced at my notes, trying to find my footing.

I reached over to turn on the camera and took a deep breath.

“So, Fade,” I began, trying to keep my voice steady, “can you tell me about the recent activities of the Iron Fiends? What’s been going on?”

Fade raised an eyebrow, looking at me with that intense gaze that always made my stomach flutter. “Activities?” he asked, his voice low and gravelly.

Yeah, America was going to love Fade. I could already imagine the viewers being drawn in by his rugged charm and mysterious demeanor.

“Let’s start with the garage,” I suggested, hoping to steer him in the right direction.

“Adalee,” he rumbled, his voice making my name sound like a caress.

I fanned my face with the papers, feeling the heat rise in my cheeks. “Yes?”

“Turn the camera off.”

I rolled my eyes but reached over to turn off the camera. The red light blinked out, signaling that we were no longer recording. “What’s wrong?” I asked, trying to sound patient.

“How the hell do I answer those questions?” he asked, his frustration evident.

“Um, with whatever has been going on,” I laughed, not understanding why he was struggling. “I didn’t think they were that hard of questions.”

Fade thinned his lips and just glared at me, making me feel like I had missed something obvious.

“What if I get more specific?” I suggested. “It’s not like my voice is going to be in the final cut. I’ll try to direct you a bit, okay?”

“You won’t be in the show?” he asked, his expression softening just a bit.

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