Page 10 of The King's Maiden
I nodded, rereading the credit card information on the receipt. The numbers were concealed, but it listed the cardholder right there in black and white.
“All hail the Knights of the Round Table,” Gia quipped.
“Yeah,” I said slowly, staring at his name and marveling at the chances. “And long live the King.”
It couldn’t be another lemon. This strange twist of fate pointing me in one direction, and maybe even showing me the path I needed to take? As much as I wanted to laugh at the absurdity of that thought, I couldn’t ignore the pull in my gut.
Because the name of my kind stranger—the gorgeous guy who’d covered the cost of my medicine, saving me when I didn’t want to be saved and hurling himself into a panic attack of his own—I held it right there in my hands.
Kingston D’Arthur.
The King of Camelot Court.
Chapter Three
QUINN
The next day, I met up with Gia after class. My meeting with my financial aid advisor had gone about as well as I’d expected it to go. I had to drop my summer classes, and until I paid off my overdue fees, I couldn’t register for fall semester, either.
I’d also gotten a call from my parents’ lawyer, a real leech of a guy who always called from unknown numbers, letting me know their life insurance policies were tied up in litigation.
He said something about the insurance company disputing the claim, which made no sense to me, but I didn’t give him long to explain it. As soon as he said it’d be a legal battle to free up the funds, I thanked him and hung up the phone.
Fighting over money I’d only get because my parents were dead wasn’t how I wanted to spend my time—no matter how badly I needed it.
Why would I when I had plenty of other options available? That time could be used to keep applying for jobs that wouldn’t hire me. And I could still try begging on the streets or finding a pimp to start my career as a high-priced escort.
I’d already donated the maximum amount of blood and plasma they’d let me donate. Maybe I could try selling a kidney on the black market.
To be honest, eventhatsounded like a better alternative than proving my parents died under normal circumstances to a bunch of sleazy insurance suits.
Sure, my logic may have been flawed.
But what could I say?
Grief was weird.
The more I went over it, the more I had to take a semester off, unless…
Gia walked up, glancing at me with wide eyes before jerking her chin over her shoulder. I followed her gaze to a cluster of students. Three guys stood out over the heads of the girls around them, and one of them I immediately recognized.
“That’s them.” She bounced on her feet when she got to my side. “It was kind of hard to get close to them during class with, you know, the gaggle of girls around them, but I overheard bits and pieces. Come on, let’s head back to the apartment and I’ll fill you in.”
She looped her arm through mine and dragged me away.
I glanced back over my shoulder for one more look at the guy from the pharmacy.
My real-life Knight in Shining Armor—or more accurately, Kingston D’Arthur—looked right at me. His eyes narrowed as we walked away before someone else stole his attention.
As Gia guided me toward the parking lot, I watched his interaction with the pretty blonde girl at his side. And I tried not to be pleased when he didn’t give her his full focus. Not very hard, but I tried.
I could be a petty bitch like that. So, sue me.
Just as we rounded the corner of the building and disappeared out of sight, I caught his final glance in my direction and tightened my grip on Gia’s arm. “Holy shit.”
“What? What’s wrong?”
“I can’t wait until we get to the apartment. Tell me everything. My meeting with the advisor was a total bust, and unless you have black market connections I don’t know about, I think I need to apply.”
