Crushing on Royalty (The Cuttings #1) [To Be Reconstructed]

18 | Brazen Girl

"Oh God."

I literally tossed myself onto Michael's gigantic white leather sofa in the living room, massaging my feet from the Manolo Blahniks I wore at a party we had attended just a few minutes ago. "I am so tired of attending these soirées!"

"So am I," Michael admitted from above the sofa, tossing his leather jacket on the headrest.

I peeked up at him then closed my eyes again, wanting nothing but to get a good night's rest. That is, if you consider four in the freaking morning to be a good night's rest.

"If you said you used to turn down invitations offhandedly, why didn't you just ignore the invitations this time?"

"Because," he stated somewhere in the living room, shuffling through his stuff, "I have -- and obviously I want -- to introduce you to everyone."

"But it's so tiring!" I whined, rubbing my feet with each other, scowling. Never would I wear heels again until it was necessarily needed, I vowed.

"Keller," Michael said, "you're not the only one who's getting knackered with all this. Nobody said being my fiancée would be easy." He sighed.

He was right and I instantly felt bad, but I didn't mind being engaged to him. It was hard being the next Lady Sterling, though I enjoyed every moment I had with him.

What happened back at the Rigbys' garden party a few days ago made my heart skip a bit. Although that got ruined when I thought about Natalie Wattson.

She and Michael had acted all friendly and civil that day, but he was just being polite instead of cutting her dead.

Oh, I had definitely seen Natalie's catlike blue eyes sparkle whenever he'd smiled at her.

If I hadn't been too far away from them while they'd talked (that was because I had been avoiding the insanely beautiful and tall supermodel like the Black Plague), I would have believed that the monster was flirting with Michael.

"...to go there. What do you say, Keller?"

I blinked up at him. He was standing on my right, staring down at me with a suggestive little smile on his face.

"I'm sorry, what?"

He rolled his eyes, sighing dramatically for effect. "And here I thought you were listening to me. What if we grew old together? I'm almost certain I'd have to yell in your ear the whole conversation!"

I playfully punched his arm from my position on the sofa. "Stop being coy."

Though really, his remark about us growing old together was a dreamy idea. I found myself sighing happily.

Michael eyed me strangely, but he shrugged and said, as he sat on the edge of the sofa beside my right calf, "I said, we should take you to the country, in Kent, so that we could relax for a little while. It'll be great if we get to go there. You could also meet my sister and dad."

"What about school?"

We hadn't been taking care of Moan -- there was no point calling her Sloan, now -- in a while, because you know why?

Michael dropped the sack.

Where, you ask? Out the window.

Yesterday, after spending time with Kimberly and Renzo (who had been clinging to Michael like an orangutan hugging a tree), we had brought Moan along for them to meet. We went to the London Eye in Westminster because I'd never been around the city before.

Michael, Kimberly, Renzo and I had hopped inside the glass Eye and before you knew it, my fiancé and I had fought on who was going to hold Moan as the good parent.