Page 7 of Royally Rivalled

“Because he could. Because some people get off on it.”

“It hurts.”

“It will, but you must get back on the horse, darling. Let’s get you over him by getting youundersomeone.”

I laughed. “I guess that works.”

“Paige McAllister is throwing a party. There will no doubt be men there. She’s on my course and lives just up the way. We’re still hot. It’s a waste if we don’t go out, right?”

I nodded. “But it’s 11. You think they will still be there at midnight?”

“Fuck yes!”

I had no idea how house parties worked.

“Things don’t get hot until midnight, love. Thank God you’re with me. We’re going to break you in properly!”

I smiled and rested my head on her shoulder. “Thank you, friend.”

“Anytime. We stick together! Nepobabies forever!”

I giggled. “Forever together!”

I wasn’t in the mood for a party but was determined not to let Tim ruin my good time. I had a friend. I had a social life. I was going to learn so much in the next year, and I deserved so much better than his cheating on me right there in front of the press. A Deschamps girl never gave up.

six

PARKER

Parties weren’t my bag.I’ve never managed to enjoy them unless I had a girlfriend who did the moving for me. I liked parking in a corner and chatting with a few close friends. It wasn’t that I didn’t like people. Instead, I preferred small groups and talking shop rather than boasting about epic conquests or parties. Postgrad parties were made for getting pissed and hooking up with cohort members.

Now, in my final year, I knew better. Students who were longer in the tooth treated other postgrads as co-workers rather than potential hook-ups. This was my work. I wanted to be respectedandrespectful. Relationships weren’t prohibited and best avoided if you co-taught with someone or shared a PhD supervisor. Everyone else was fair game, but shitting where you ate always came with risks. Bianca was a safe choice as she was mature, and her research was unrelated to mine. We could talk shop but never risked reporting to the same people or fighting over the same jobs.

I never understood how Paige McCallister and Bianca related. Paige was a party girl who lacked academic focus—flitting from one guy to another. Bianca was studious and dedicated.She treated postgrad like what it was—a job. She was everything Paige wasn’t—and fitter.

Giving it a shot and casting my fears aside, I arrived at their house with a bottle of whisky. I assumed hostess gifts were still appreciated, but when I presented the booze to Paige, she looked at me like I had two heads and told me to open it. I did. I dug in. A little liquid courage couldn’t hurt.

I spotted Bianca in the corner, talking to a few friends. I sauntered to her with my drink. Her friends sensed I wanted an in and dispersed. I was grateful for that. Maybe I would manage to convert tonight after all?

“Hey there!” Bianca said excitedly. “How are you doing? Get any work done?”

“I sent a paper off,” I said proudly.

“Good for you. Super nerdy, but I feel you. I wish I could say the same.”

“What did you get up to?” I adjusted my stance nervously

“Oh, just shopping. Went to London with Paige. Nothing much. Trying to get in that retail therapy before I must buckle down again.”

God, her accent wassoadorable. I loathed how nervous and flustered she made me feel. Still, I had little to talk to her about apart from school. Why was I so shit at this?

“I saw you volunteered to help with Model UN?” I asked.

“Just the student fair. I need to do service hours for my honour society,” she said.

Shalebrook’s academic clubs prized both marks and service. I refused to participate in scholarly societies, but that was how Bianca rolled. She was a brown-noser, but I’d give her a pass—especially in his skirt.

“Ah.”

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