Page 27 of Fake Dating the Prince

Brayden, sweetheart, what a handsome dance partner you found.That one wasn’t so bad. Then,You need to watch that footwork on the change steps, young man. Fine, he probably deserved that; he was surprised she hadn’t sent one admonishing him for not practicing enough. Next,Did I read right that your partner is really your boyfriend? And he’s the prince of Lyngria?

Brayden scrolled down to the final message.

Tell His Royal Highness to let you lead next time.

He snorted in spite of himself. He loved his grandmother.

Mom, though—well, he loved her too, but she could be a little overbearing sometimes. Probably that had to do with her only son’s heart being tragically broken at sixteen. With great trepidation, he opened her texts.

Grandma says you’re dating the crown prince of a European country. At first I thought maybe dementia was setting in, like it did with your grandfather.

Brayden winced. His mother knew how to make that guilt trip hurt.

I know you’re not interested in dating. You tell me so often enough. And where would you even meet a prince? But then I watched the video. When I saw the way you looked at him…. Oh, sweetie, I’m so happy. You seemed so determined to be alone, and I didn’t want to push—

Brayden’s throat closed up.

—but you’ve needed a friend these past ten years, if nothing else. I’m so glad you found that, even if I’m hurt you didn’t tell me.

Fuck. He closed his eyes and bit his lip. How could he tell her the truth? Her heart would break for him all over again.

I’ll let you be, since I bet you have lots to talk about with your partner this morning. Call me when you can, though, okay? I love you.

Brayden sniffed once, wiped his eyes on the sleeve of Flip’s bathrobe, and then texted,Thanks, Mom. Love you too.

He dressed by rote—underwear, socks, jeans, T-shirt, sweater. Not knowing what else to do with them, he folded the pajamas and left them on the bed. Then he hung the bathrobe behind the door. The slippers he kept.

Now he just had to go out there and tell Flip—

What, exactly?

A quiet knock on the door. “Brayden?” Pause. Brayden imagined Flip sayingAre you decent?and almost giggled. “May I come in?”

Time to face the music. He cleared his throat. “Sure.”

Flip did, quietly, and closed the door behind him. He kept his voice low. “My parents are in the sitting room. I didn’t want you to be unprepared.”

“Oh. Right. Thanks, I guess.” He ran a hand through his hair, the skin all down his back prickling. “I mean, we should probably decide what we’re going to tell them.”

Flip managed to imbue even a grimace with a sort of upper-class eloquence. “I want to apologize again. I shouldn’t have let them think we were dating in the first place, and now I’ve dragged you and your whole family into a lie.”

Brayden smiled weakly. “You’re not the only one who had a hand in this. I could’ve said no.” He blew out a long breath.

“I should have known better.” He shook his head. “On top of it all, you’ve lost any anonymity you might have had. Anywhere you go in this country, people will know you. You’ll be hounded.”

Brayden swallowed hard and grasped for words. “I can change my vacation plans, go back to Paris, maybe try Copenhagen. I mean, my family will be pissed—they’re already super invested in this fake relationship, but—”

Flip’s head came up. “You didn’t tell them the truth?”

Brayden fought the urge to squirm. “I didn’t exactly lie either. But no, I let them think…. Past trauma, remember? They haven’t even met you, and they already love you for healing my tragic broken heart.” Whoops, a little bitterness spilled out in that last sentence.

At that, Flip’s eyebrow and lip twitched. He was quiet for a moment. Then he said, enunciating each syllable, “Perhaps… I might suggest a solution.”

Brayden flopped back onto the perfect mattress. “I’m all ears.”

“I propose that we continue the charade.”

And he sat up again. That sounded dangerous… and dangerously tempting. “Oh?”

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