Page 61 of The Prince of Broken Crowns

“I have to go to work. I work at this café located on the farthest edge of northside. Although, I’ve been looking for a new job, one that’s closer to the academy, but I haven’t had any luck.”

“What job do you do there?” he asks as he reclines against the side of the café.

It starts to rain then, but just a light drizzle.

“I’m a waitress.” I wipe a raindrop off my head. “It’s not really a bad job, but like I said, it’s far. Plus, there’s some other complications that have come up that makes it kind of necessary for me to look for other employment.”

His brows knit. “Like what?”

I shake my head as I press my hands against the side of the building and stretch one of my legs back. “That is a question related to why I was in jail, and we promised not to ask questions about that.” I can feel his eyes on me, but I don’t look at him.

Yeah, River is nice and everything, but I’m not about to give him all the shitty details about my life in northside.

“I think I can help you get a job close to the academy,” he tells me. “It might take a few days, but let me look into a few things.”

I laugh, thinking he’s joking. When I glance at him, though, I realize he’s absolutely serious.

My laughter fades into perplexity. “How would you do that? My resume literally consists of employment as a waitress on northside, so—and please don’t take this the wrong way—but I feel like any connections you have are to companies and people who wouldn’t want to hire someone like me.”

“What do you mean, someone like you?” He rotates so he’s facing me with his shoulder propped against the side of the building. “You’re attending the academy on a scholarship, you graduated with a four-point-oh, and you broke a ton of track and cross country records at your school. That’s pretty impressive.”

His words make me feel uncomfortable, like my stomach is trying to fly away to the drizzling sky. I don’t like it because it could lead to other dangerous feelings, like liking him. And I can’t go there, no matter how pretty his eyes are or how he’s looking at me like he one hundred percent genuinely means his words.

Honestly, this is the first nice thing anyone has ever said to me without strings attached.

“I’ve also been arrested,” I remind him as I switch legs.

“Yeah, but nothing’s on your record, right?”

“Not yet. But depending on how things go with the charges filed against me from last week, that could change.”

“Maybe they’ll be dropped.”

“Maybe.” It’s hard to say for sure.

“Regardless, let me look into a few things, okay?” He wipes rain from his face, chest, and arms with his hand, and it takes all of my energy not to gawk as his fingers trail across his body.

“If you want to, I won’t stop you. But it’s probably a waste of time.” I push away from the wall and bend over to stretch when the drizzle morphs into a full-blown storm.

“Shit,” River curses as the downpour cascades over us and starts flooding the ground.

The thunder and lightning picks up, the sky lighting up with streaks of electric blue and silver.

“Holy crap, that got bad quickly!” I shout over the rain and wind.

River snatches a hold of my hand and yanks me around the building. The feel of his hand in mine causes my heart to match the beat of the thunder as it slams against my ribcage with so much force I become more breathless than when we were running.

I should pull away, but instead, I latch on and run with him as he steers us out of the rain and into the entrance of the café. Our wet sneakers squeak against the polished floor, and patrons sitting at tables glance up as we barrel in, dripping wet and still holding hands.

The place has an old-school vibe with a checkerboard floor, pink walls, and a chalkboard menu, but I can tell everything is high-end quality.

“Come on; let’s go see if they’ll let us use their phone,” River says as he tows me with him around the tables and toward the counter.

Still holding my hand.

“Um … you have to have a shirt on to be in here,” the cashier tells River as he approaches the ordering section of the café. She’s in her mid-twenties, with dark hair, and her eyes are roving all over River’s body, despite her words.

“Yeah, I’m so sorry about that,” River replies in a charming tone I haven’t heard him use before. “But my friend and I were out running when the storm came in, and we’re kind of stuck here unless I can use your phone to call someone to come pick us up. Would that be okay? I promise I’ll make it quick, and then we’ll go stand outside and wait under the canopy.” He dazzles her with a smile, and I’m surprised she doesn’t melt into a puddle on the floor.

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