Page 43 of Love so Hot

"That's not fair," I protest. "I'm doing what I can with the resources I have. Not everyone can chain themselves to trees, you know."

River's laugh is sharp. "No, I suppose not. Wouldn't want to mess up that pretty dress, would we?"

I should be offended, but there's something about his fire that draws me in. I find myself wanting to prove him wrong, to show him I'm more than just a rich girl playing at activism.

"Maybe you're right," I say, surprising both of us. "Maybe I need to do more. Got any suggestions, O Wise One?"

For a moment, I see a flicker of respect in those intense green eyes. Then he grins, all challenge and mischief.

"Careful what you ask for, Princess. You might not like the answer."

I'm sitting in our sun-drenched conservatory, absentmindedly stirring my chamomile tea while my mind drifts back to River's fiery words. The delicate china cup clinks against its saucer. It feels so hollow when compared to the raw passion I'd encountered earlier.

"Darling," my mother's voice cuts through my reverie. "I couldn't help but overhear your conversation with that... boy at the event."

I suppress an eye roll. Of course she was eavesdropping. "His name is River, Mom."

She waves a manicured hand dismissively. "Regardless, I don't think he's a suitable influence. His attitude towards our family was quite disrespectful."

"Oh, you mean like how Dad talks to literally everyone?" The words are out before I can stop them, sharp and biting.

Mom's face tightens. "That's different. Your father is?—"

"What? Rich? Important? A complete jerk most of the time?" I'm on a roll now, all my pent-up frustrations bubbling to the surface.

Mom looks genuinely shocked. "I... I just don't want you to experience..." She trails off, her eyes suddenly distant.

"Experience what, Mom?" I prod, curiosity piqued by her uncharacteristic hesitation.

She shakes her head, composing herself. "Nothing, dear. I just want what's best for you."

I bite back a retort, sensing there's more she's not saying. Instead, I take a sip of tea, mulling over her words and the lingering fire River ignited in me. Maybe it's time to show them all what this "princess" can really do.

Mom sets her teacup down with a delicate clink, smoothing her skirt as if to brush away our tense exchange. "In any case," she says, her voice honeyed once more, "I wouldn't worry too much about that boy. It's unlikely you'll see much of each other in the future."

I arch an eyebrow, sensing the calculated nonchalance in her tone. "Oh? And why's that?"

"Well," she replies, examining her perfectly manicured nails, "we don't exactly run in the same circles, do we? It was just a chance encounter at a community event."

I bite back a snort. Right, because heaven forbid we mingle with the unwashed masses more than absolutely necessary. Instead, I plaster on a smile that would make my etiquette coach proud. "I suppose you're right, Mother."

Later that night, I'm sprawled across my ridiculously oversized bed, still mulling over the day's events. The silk sheets feel cool against my skin, but my mind is on fire with possibilities. River's words keep echoing in my head, challenging everything I thought I knew about my family's place in the world.

Just as I'm about to drift off, my phone buzzes on the nightstand. I fumble for it, squinting at the bright screen in the darkness. An unknown number flashes, followed by four words that send a jolt through my system:

Hey, this is River.

Well, well, well. So much for not seeing each other again. I grin into the darkness, already plotting my reply. Sorry, Mom, but I think your prediction might be a teensy bit off.

Chapter Twenty-One

Willow

Present

River

Hey, where are you?

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