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Twisted Games (Twisted, #2)(15)

Author:Ana Huang

“I need to Lysol myself to get your—”

“Stop it!” Stella slashed her hand through the air, startling everyone with her sharp tone. She was usually the most Zen in our group. “Or I’ll post the candid and very unflattering photos I have of the both of you online.”

Josh and Jules gasped. “You wouldn’t,” they said at the same time before glaring at each other.

I stifled a laugh while Ava, who usually played reluctant mediator between her friend and brother, cracked a smile.

Eventually, we wrangled everyone into a respectable group shot, then another, and another, until we took enough pictures to fill a half dozen albums and it was time to say goodbye.

I hugged my friends and tried to swallow the messy ball of emotion in my throat. “I’ll miss you guys.”

Jules and Stella were staying in D.C. to attend law school and work as an assistant at D.C. Style magazine, respectively, but Ava was heading to London for a year-long photography fellowship, and I was moving to New York.

I’d convinced the palace to let me stay in the U.S. as Eldorra’s royal ambassador. If an event required a royal Eldorran presence, I was the person for the job. Unfortunately, as much as I wanted to stay in D.C., most of the events took place in New York, so there I would go.

I hugged Ava the hardest and longest. Between her family drama and breakup with Alex, she’d gone through hell the past few months, and she needed extra love.

“You’ll adore London,” I said. “It’ll be a fresh start, and you have the little black book of must-visit spots I gave you.”

Ava flashed a small smile. “I’m sure I will. Thanks.” She glanced around, and I wondered if she was looking for Alex. No matter what she said, she wasn’t over him, and she probably wouldn’t be for a while.

I didn’t spot him in the crowd, but I wasn’t surprised. For a supposed genius, he could be quite the idiot. He’d said and done some hurtful things, but he cared about Ava. He was just either too stubborn or too stupid to act on it.

I made a mental note to pay him a visit before I left for New York. I was tired of waiting for him to pull his head out of his ass.

After one last round of hugs, my friends drifted off with their families until it was just me and Rhys.

My grandfather and Nikolai had wanted to come, but they canceled their trip at the last minute because of some diplomatic crisis with Italy. They were both distraught over missing my graduation, but I’d assured them it was okay.

And it was. I understood the responsibilities that came with the crown and the heir. But it didn’t mean I couldn’t wallow in a bit of self-pity.

“You ready?” Rhys asked, his tone a shade gentler than usual.

I nodded, tamping down the flicker of loneliness in my stomach as we walked to our car. Graduation, moving cities, saying goodbye to everything I’d loved for the past four years…it was too much change in too short a time.

I was so lost in my thoughts I didn’t notice we were heading into the city instead of home until I spotted the Washington Monument glowing in the distance.

“Where are we going?” I straightened in my seat. “You’re not dragging me to some warehouse so you can butcher me, are you?”

I couldn’t see Rhys’s face, but I could hear his eye roll. “If I wanted to do that, I would’ve done so the day after meeting you.”

I frowned, more insulted than reassured, but my tart reply died on my lips when he added, “Figured you wouldn’t want to stay home and order takeout on graduation night.”

I didn’t want to stay home on graduation night. It seemed so sad, but it seemed sadder to eat dinner by myself in some fancy restaurant.

I had Rhys, but he was paid to be there, and he wasn’t exactly a chatty conversationalist. And yet…he knew exactly what I needed without me uttering a word.

Another butterfly escaped in my stomach before I shoved it back into its cage.

“Where are we going, then?” I repeated my question, intrigue edging out my earlier melancholy.

He pulled up in front of a strip mall. There weren’t many of those in D.C., but this one contained all the trappings of a suburban outpost, including a Subway, a nail salon, and a restaurant named Walia.

“Best Ethiopian spot in the city.” Rhys cut the engine.

My heart tripped. Ethiopian was my favorite cuisine. Of course, Rhys could’ve chosen it at random without remembering the fact, which I’d let slip one time during a drive home.

“I don’t believe you,” I said. “Best Ethiopian is on U Street.”

It wasn’t. One taste of Walia’s injera sourdough flatbread and tibs wot beef half an hour later, and I knew Rhys was right. It was the best Ethiopian spot in the city.

“How did I not know about this place?” I demanded, breaking off another piece of injera and using it to scoop up the meat. In Ethiopian culture, the bread was an eating utensil as much as it was food.

“It flies under most people’s radar. I guarded an Ethiopian VIP for a few months. Only reason I found out about this place.”

“You’re full of surprises.” I chewed my food, thinking. After I swallowed, I said, “Since it’s my graduation night, let’s play a game. It’s called Getting to Know Rhys Larsen.”

“Sounds boring.” Rhys flicked his eyes around the restaurant. “I already know Rhys Larsen.”

“I don’t.”

He heaved a long-suffering sigh, and I fought the urge to cheer because the sigh meant he was about to cave. It didn’t happen often, but when it did, I reveled in it like a kid in a candy store.

“Fine.” Rhys sat back and folded his hands over his stomach, the picture of grouchiness. “Only because it’s your graduation night.”

I smiled.

Bridget: one. Rhys: zero.

For the rest of dinner, I peppered him with questions I’d always wanted to ask, starting with the small stuff.

Favorite food? Baked sweet potatoes.

Favorite color? Black. (Shocker)。

Favorite movie? Reservoir Dogs.

After I exhausted the basics, I moved on to more personal territory. To my surprise, he answered most of my questions without complaint. The only ones he skirted were those about his family.

Biggest fear? Failure.

Biggest dream? Peace.

Biggest regret? Inaction.

Rhys didn’t elaborate on his vague answers, and I didn’t push him. He’d already given me more than I’d expected, and if I pushed too hard, he would shut down.

Eventually, I worked up the courage to bring up something that had been needling me for the past few weeks.

The honey wine helped. It made me all warm and buzzy, and it eroded my inhibitions with every sip.

“About the indoor festival you set up for Rokbury…”

Rhys stabbed at a piece of beef, ignoring the table of women ogling him from the corner. “What about it?”

“My friends didn’t know what I was talking about when I mentioned it to them.” I’d checked with Ava and Stella too, just in case, and they’d both stared at me like I’d grown two heads.

“So?”

I finished my wine, my nerves jumping all over the place. “So, you said my friends helped you with the setup.”

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