Casing ✔️

Chapter 7

The Gold Rose seemed to be filled with people no matter the time or day. And my sister seemed to love getting tipsy and ignoring everything our father said. Not that I was much different, but at least I drank a fresh soda and kept my eyes on the e-book app on my phone.

I ended up wearing jeans and a singlet, not really wanting to give out signals to the wrong people on a Sunday night. I hadn't spotted any James' or Damian's so far either, so I could read my smut in peace.

If anyone looked over my shoulder, they'd be in for a treat.

With one leg casually draped over the other, I actually enjoyed my time out. Not that I did anything more than reading about hot men and their stiff ones; it was just the whole atmosphere that made me feel so much lighter. There were actual people around me, instead of walls and dust.

It was the simplest thing, and it brought me so much joy. Maybe I should've resented my father for his idea of protection, but I didn't. Even if his actions were wrong, I never fought him until now. And when I finally did, he wasn't very hard to convince.

Well, he'd probably be a lot harder to convince if Hank had spoken up about what he knew, so maybe I should've thanked him.

"Looks like the princess is out of her tower again." The familiar voice gave my skin goosebumps, and I looked to the side as James took a seat next to me, his smile as big as always. "And she looks like she's not packing up to move."

I laid my phone down on the bar, shrugging casually as if his presence didn't make every cell in my body swoon. "You might be right about that," I replied, "the only thing she's missing now is a prince."

"I might know where to find one." He looked over his shoulder once, almost as of to see if anyone was watching, before he leaned closer and arched a brow in question. "If I could have your name, I'd let him know you're looking."

The genuine wonder in his expression made me realize he actually didn't know my name. But Damian knew, and he hadn't said anything. And, Damian didn't say anything when I told James who my family was last night.

"Elina." The shock was probably very evident on my face and voice, but I tried to salvage it by turning away, and taking a sip of my drink.

"Reading anything good, Elina?" He smiled at me and motioned towards my phone—which was still lit up with text describing a very steamy encounter between a fictional rockstar and a girl who couldn't stand him.

"It's satisfying," I told him, unable to hide my smirk as I picked up my phone and held it up to him.

His eyes moved down the page, first in concentration, then his whole face slowly turned amused. When he looked up, he had a glint in his eye that made my thighs clench. "I can see," he said, his voice suddenly lower. "You read this kind of stuff a lot?"

"All the time." I moved to take my phone back, but he held on tight and exited the reading app while I watched. He found my contacts and created a new one, and I bit my lip as I watched his fingers fly over the keyboard.

When he handed the phone back—a grin so wide and brilliant it made me take a breath twice—I noticed he'd sent a text to himself. The contact he created was named Prince James and he'd written "Princess Elina, in need of a prince".

I wasn't sure if he was smooth or not. My cheeks were warm, but that could be the crowded place and the noise.

"You really didn't know my name?" I found myself asking, searching his face for any hint of a lie.

His lips curled down for a split second, along with his shoulders rising up in a shrug. His brown eyes seemed darker in the dim light, and I was already leaning towards him, as if some sort of force was bringing us closer.