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livingthroughchoices-blog · 5 years ago

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The Marshmallow Chronicles (Ch. 2.3: Return to Applewood)

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Author’s notes: So as I explained in this post, I’m very sorry for the long absence and understand if you’re not interested in this story anymore, so please let me know if you want me to untag you. Otherwise, I really hope you like this chapter despite the wait and thank you so so much, regardless of whether you still read this or not, for your support.

@starstruckzonkoperatorbat, @notoriouscs, @simplyaiden-blog, @snyggflicka, @asprankle, @speedyoperarascalparty, @mirivalencia, @mymandrake, @asobigokoro2018, @krisnicjack and @fabi-en-ciel

Rating: T

Pairing: Drake x MC

Words: 8,057

As it turned out, Bastien, whose continued crankiness baffled Drake, had come close to leaving him behind, but had waited at Liam’s insistence. Drake mumbled his thanks to his friend, unable to look him in the eye, having just spent the evening pouring his heart out to Liam’s future fiancée.

This guilt is gonna kill me… if the image of Addams in her underwear and the sound of her moaning my name doesn’t do it first. His guilt was momentarily drowned by a powerful pang of desire.

He settled in for the long drive back to Applewood Manor, trying to suppress any thoughts of Addams being sexy; he could think of few things more awkward than getting a boner while sitting in a confined space with Bastien and Liam, of all people.

Unfortunately, he came to realize that not thinking about Addams was pretty much impossible, so he contented himself with directing his thoughts toward tamer grounds. He lost himself in the memory of dancing with her, of her wanting to stand around with him on his birthday, of her vulnerability when talking about her brother…

It was hard to pinpoint, but it was probably then that he started losing control of his thoughts and his brain decided to conjure images of things that had never happened, and would never happen. He and Riley were camping together, just the two of them; they were drinking at a bar, just the two of them; they were cooking together in a kitchen that seemed to be theirs. He bumped his head against the car window surreptitiously, as if trying to jolt the thoughts off his head.

The domesticity of the images perturbed him far more than any sexual fantasy would. Wanting Addams? Sure, he could deal with that. She was hot and he definitely wasn’t blind to that. But this craving of her company, not as a friend but as – he suppressed a shudder – a partner? That was way beyond the line.

“Drake?”

He was jerked away from his increasingly panicked reflections by Liam’s voice. He hoped his face wasn’t giving him away, although judging by the warmth spreading up from his neck to his face, he was hoping in vain. He rubbed his face roughly, trying to pass it off as sleepiness.

“Huh?”

“I asked if you would mind staying in the room next to Lady Riley’s again.”

“No!” Seeing Liam’s startled face, Drake made a second attempt at sounding more natural and less like a madman. “Er, I mean, I’d rather not because… uhh…”

“Ha, let me guess,” chimed in Bastien from the front seat, “you would rather stay next to Lady Kiara, eh?” He wiggled his eyebrows at Drake on the rearview mirror.

Drake opened his mouth to protest when he realized he was being given an out. He looked down at his hands, faking embarrassment. “Fine, yeah, that’s why.”

He thought he heard Bastien exhale sharply, but he couldn’t be sure as he was distracted by Liam elbowing him.

“So that is the reason! Well, you know me, I will not stand in the way of l’amour.”

Bastien snorted at this and despite his best efforts to keep a straight face, Liam cracked a smile at his own teasing. Then, sobering up, he added, “In all seriousness, though, I am happy for you Drake. I think you make a good couple.”

Excused from answering by his usual – and expected – grumpiness, Drake turned to the window, relieved and ashamed.

Once inside the Manor, he was pleased to verify that his room and Riley’s were on opposite sides of the spacious second floor. The pleasure, however, was short-lived as he almost immediately felt compelled to go look for her, to at least catch a glimpse of her before bed.

Don’t you think you’ve done enough damage for one day, you idiot?

Remembering Liam’s earnest good wishes for him stopped him in his tracks and sent him straight to bed.

He woke up unusually early the next morning, relishing a day spent outdoors, doing physical labor. Now this was his time to shine. All those pampered royals couldn’t hold a candle to him when it came to barn raising. Even Liam, who was in excellent shape, was used to different, more refined exercise.

The kitchen, which he had expected to be deserted as he went to grab a quick breakfast, was occupied by Bertrand and a tall, well-groomed man who looked vaguely familiar. Bertrand seemed as surprised as Drake was at bumping into each other.

“Oh, uh, hey, Bertrand,” he said, forgetting the man’s honorific in his distracted state.

Other than a slight flaring of his nostrils, the noble gave no sign of offended dignity, choosing rather to greet Drake in his stiff, formal manner. “Good day, Mr. Walker.”

Noticing Drake’s glance at the other man, he added, “Excuse me, where are my manners! This is Justin Barrington, Lady Riley’s new communications agent.”

“It’s so great to meet you Mr. Walker. I’ve heard a lot about you” Justin said, offering his hand.

“It’s Drake,” he replied, feeling a strong aversion at the man’s unctuous demeanor and his weak handshake.

He turned to Bertrand. “Well, I should get going.” He grabbed the first things within reach in the pantry, which turned out to be an apple and a granola bar and stepped out with a brisk walk.

He ate his meager breakfast on the way to the construction site, planning to go back for a real meal once everyone else showed up to help. His mind was blissfully empty while he walked, enjoying the early morning breeze and the first, barely-there rays of sun on his skin. He figured he’d have at least a half hour or more to himself, which suited him fine. In fact, he knew he’d likely get more done in that time than most people would during the whole day. And without Riley around to distract him, he half believed he could raise a barn all on his own in record time.

For the second time that day, though, he was startled to find someone already there, only this time he broke into a smile as soon as he spotted who it was. Drake joined her sitting down, the long grass tickling his arms and his back resting against a damp rock.

“Well, well, well, fancy seeing you here. Don’t tell me you won some sort of barn raising award back home!” He was only half joking, but Hana giggled and shook her head.

“I don’t think there is such a thing, and even if there was, I am sure I would be no good at it.”

“That’s a first. So what are you doing here so early?”

“Nothing, really.”

Drake cocked his head, waiting for her to say more.

“I believe I…” Hana paused, searching for the words, “well, I only meant to go for a walk, but then I realized I could do whatever I wanted and I decided to extend my walk so I wouldn’t have to be escorted here later… That must have sounded like nonsense.”

“No, actually, I understand. We rarely get these moments of freedom, don’t we? If I feel cooped up in the palace sometimes, I can’t imagine what you go through as one of the suitors!”

Hana was smiling now, relieved he sympathized. “Oh, no! I usually feel quite at ease here; I was so much more guarded at home. I am mostly left to my own devices, except during events such as today’s. But still, I needed a respite.”

“I know what you mean.”

They sat, as they often did, in comfortable silence, until Drake felt Hana’s eyes on him.

“What is it?”

“Oh!” She blushed at having been caught. “It’s nothing, that is, only if you wish– I don’t mean to intrude, I–”

“Hana!” He cut her off. “It’s okay, I think I know what this is about… You want to know if I talked to Addams, right?”

Hana blushed even harder and nodded, hurriedly adding, “But only if you want to tell me, of course.”

Drake sighed. “I actually do. For whatever reason, I feel better when I talk to you.” He ignored Hana’s knowing smile.

“So I told her.”

Hana gasped and clutched his arm, waiting with bated breath for him to continue. It took Drake some time, as he grappled with how much to say and what to keep to himself. On the one hand, he wanted to be honest with Hana, who had become one of his closest friends. This never ceased to surprise him. On the other, like a superstitious kid wishing on his birthday candles, he felt like saying anything about Addams’s feelings out loud might jinx his already precarious chances.

“Well, uh, she definitely cares for me, but I doubt it goes beyond friendship.”

Hana uttered a small “oh”; he suspected that, just like him when the situations were reversed, she was probably torn between sympathy for her friend and relief that Riley remained unattached, at least in theory.

Her grip on his arm became a soothing back and forth motion as she said, “There is hope then, especially if she did not specifically call you her best friend like…”

She trailed off, her voice thick. Drake jumped to his feet and pulled on her arms, practically forcing her to her feet.

“Right, enough moping. What do you say I teach you something for a change?”

Hana sniffled and smiled with a resolute nod.

They spent the next half hour speaking only of beams, pulleys and nails, simply enjoying each other’s company and the satisfaction of building something from scratch. The sun had come out in full and was beating down on them. Realizing his shirt might be soaked through by the time the press, and more importantly Addams, got there, Drake took it off. Hana moaned with envy, fanning herself and pulling her damp dress away from her sticky body.

Some nobles had begun to arrive and, like Drake, most of them took their shirts off right away, the difference being their goal was most likely to protect the expensive fabric, whereas Drake’s was to avoid dying from a heat stroke. His theory was proven when he noticed a handful of them using a nearby tree as a clothesline, hanging their shirts neatly off a branch.

He handed her one end of a rope to pull. She held it loosely, waiting for him to grab the other end, when they heard voices approaching. Their eyes met, their shared excitement so obvious that it made both of them laugh nervously. Still making eye contact, they seemed to come to the same conclusion simultaneously: it would look impressive if they pulled this beam into place just as Riley arrived.

Drake mouthed a countdown, then said, “Pull!”

They grunted with the effort, such a guttural noise sounding hilariously out of place coming from Hana’s prim lips.

A chant came around the corner: “Pull! Pull! Pull!”

Even if he hadn’t recognized the voice, Drake would have known it was Maxwell purely because of the man’s obsession with chanting.

“Hey, guys,” came Riley’s voice immediately after Maxwell’s.

Hana whirled around at the sound of her voice, which normally would have made Drake laugh, had her grip on the rope not slackened, leaving him pulling with all his might.

“Maxwell? Riley?”

In her eagerness to hug them hello, Hana dropped the rope entirely, bringing the beam crashing to the floor. Drake flinched and glared at her.

She had the grace to look chastised and grimaced apologetically. “Oops! Sorry, Drake! I was just excited to see our friends.”

Drake rolled his eyes but let her off the hook, “I don’t think we were going to get it all the way up there anyway.”

His eyes, as they so often were nowadays, were drawn to Riley. She was, for once, wearing comfortable, sensible clothes and she looked all the better for it, in Drake’s opinion. Sure, he liked how she looked in her elegant gowns, but there was something about the tight denim shorts and soft cotton shirt she was wearing that left his mouth dry.

Having almost involuntarily given her body a once-over – I probably look like such a creep – his eyes made their way back up to her face. His brows furrowed as he noticed her eyes looked glazed and her mouth was slightly open.

“Drake... You’re not wearing a shirt.”

Oh. Oooh.

Lifting beams had taken less of an effort than the one he exerted now to keep himself from smirking; he was only partially successful. He genuinely had forgotten about that. Because of Hana’s (understandable) non-reaction, he hadn’t even thought to use his muscular chest to his advantage. Nobody would ever accuse Drake of being vain. He wouldn’t even say he had healthy self-esteem.

But damn if I don’t look good without a shirt on.

He played it down with a quick, “Oh. Right.”

Hana narrowed her eyes, perhaps considering this might have been his plan all along. “He started off with a shirt...”

“Hey, it’s hot out! A guy’s got to cool off somehow.” Not used to this much attention, he cast about for a distraction. “Maxwell, you’re going to be sweating buckets in that black shirt.”

“There’s a spot over there where many of the nobles are hanging their dress shirts. Or, alternatively, I think Drake chose a spot on the ground for his.” Hana nodded toward Drake’s crumpled denim shirt.

“Nah, I’ll leave my shirt on. This button down’s made of moisture-wicking fabric. Very breathable,” Maxwell replied, even while beads of sweat formed on his forehead.

Drake frowned at him but Maxwell refused to meet his eye.

“Drake, you sure you’re not trying to show off for the press?” Riley teased.

As if.

“I’m happiest out of frame.”

Maxwell clapped his hands together. “Well, Riley should be giving the press something to shoot. Come on! Let’s lift things and build barns.”

Hana giggled. “I think that’s missing a few steps.”

“Details, details,” dismissed Maxwell, holding the nearest rope.

Drake pointed out which ropes to grab to Hana and Riley, then took his own.

“Everyone ready?”

Riley gave a small pull to her rope to punctuate her, “Ready.”

“We’re supposed to hold it like this, right?” Hana asked.

Drake gave her an encouraging smile. “Yeah, you got it. Now on three, pull together. One... Two... Three...”

“Heave!” Maxwell said, using his whole body to pull on his rope.

“Rah!” Riley grunted.

A bit unevenly, first rising on his side and Maxwell’s and more hesitantly on Riley’s and Hana’s, the beam was hoisted up to its place.

“Yes!” Riley fist pumped.

That’ll make for quite a photo op.

It was a small victory. Compared to everything that still needed doing, it was practically nothing. Yet seeing Riley’s joy at having done something she’d never done, and doing it together, was enough to make him hive five her as if they’d finished the barn.

“We did it!” Hana squealed.

Riley smacked her fist with her palm, and with her best action hero voice said, “We showed that beam!”

“That was mostly me, but the help was appreciated,” said Maxwell, who was now sweating profusely.

He leaned on Drake’s shoulder. It was only too tempting for him to step back and watch his friend stumble. “Yeah, sure it was.”

Laughing his near fall off, Maxwell looked at the press, who had moved on to photograph other suitors. “Riley, I’ll look for something that’ll put you on the front page!”

Hana looked over where the press was, spotting Penelope making planks with other nobles. “Making planks for the walls looks like fun. You could help me with that.” The last part was directed at Riley, and there was a hopeful glint in Hana’s eyes.

“You’re welcome to stay here.” Drake shrugged like it was all the same to him.

Riley, however, barely thought about it. “I’ll stay here with Drake.”

As much as Drake wished she had pretended to think a bit more about it to spare Hana’s feelings, there was no denying the rush it gave him to hear those words, even if just in the context of barn raising.

If only she would keep choosing me.

Ha! Don’t hold your breath. It’s just ‘cause Liam’s not around.

“Suit yourself.” Maxwell went off to schmooze members of the press.

“Have fun!” To Hana’s credit, it sounded almost sincere, but her back had a strange rigidity to it as she walked over to Penelope.

More to break the silence than anything else, Drake said, “Well, looks like you’ve chosen to stick with me, Addams.”

It was phrased like a regular sentence, with no particular inflection, but there was a question in it which Riley seemed to sense. “I stand by my decision.”

How does she always know the right thing to say?

She gave him a disarming smile that Drake couldn’t help but return, but all he could reply was, “Heh, alright.”

“So,” said Riley, moving closer with the smoothness of a predator stalking its prey, “what does big strong Drake need my help with?”

The way she said the words big and strong went straight to Drake’s crotch and he swallowed, trying to keep himself under control by thinking of Bertrand.

“Beam lifting, of course. But I’m bringing in some help.”

He was already retreating as he explained, desperate for other company to break the tension; even animal company would have to do.

Outside the partial barn, a couple of horses were tied to a post. He selected the one that looked stronger and walked back to Riley, somewhat soothed by the horse’s presence.

It snorted when it reached Riley, who let it smell her hand before patting its velvety muzzle.

“I figured some real horsepower would make everything go a lot quicker. But this’ll also make an even better picture for the press.”

Riley glanced at him from around the horse, grinning. “Aww, thanks, Drake. You do care.”

“I never said I didn’t.”

It was Riley’s turn to look uncomfortable at his candor. She cleared her throat and, without meeting his eyes, asked, “What do I need to do?”

“I want you to guide the horse forward, while I direct the beam.”

“Got it.”

Drake handed Riley the reins, allowing her small, always-warm hand to linger on his. After yesterday’s conversation he was finding it more and more difficult to keep his distance, to be careful, even.

Yeah, well, you better get used to it again. You can’t be holding hands in public events, what the fuck are you thinking?!

He abruptly took his hand from under hers and moved to hold the beam, trying his best to ignore Riley’s hurt eyes.

“Okay! Pull!”

With an encouraging, “Easy, girl. Right this way,” Riley skillfully directed the horse in the opposite direction, lifting the beam. As it reached the right height, Drake steered it to the correct angle so that it fell smoothly in place.

He walked back to Riley and the horse, sweat glistening on his chest. Riley glanced at him and swallowed thickly. He somehow ended up standing closer to her than he’d planned.

He wiped his brow and said, “Whew, that wasn’t so bad. Good work, Riley.”

She shrugged. “Thanks, but the horse did most of the work.”

“Well, thanks, horse.”

The animal whinnied gratefully at their petting. They looked up from the horse and their eyes met in a moment of mutual understanding. Without being outwardly romantic, it was probably one of the times that Drake felt closest to her, and he was once again struck by the unfairness of the whole situation, by the fact that, had they met under different circumstances, they would want similar things out of life and therefore make a good team.

Riley seemed to be thinking along the same lines, if her suddenly watery eyes were anything to go by. She opened her mouth to say something, which Drake dreaded and anticipated at the same time, when they heard uncertain, tottering steps coming towards them, accompanied by heavy panting.

Lady Kiara came into view, looking much less composed than usual, her shiny black hair escaping in sweaty tendrils from its half updo and her face red and shiny with exertion. She punctuated each excruciating step with strained words, “Just... a few more... steps... till I can drop this... stupid plank…”

Presumably thanks to her choice of footwear (platform shoes), she took a false step and stumbled. Trying to regain her balance, she overcompensated and twisted her ankle. She barely had time to scream, “Mon dieu!” before she was on the floor, the beam on top of her.

“Kiara!” Riley was the first to run towards her, yet she then hovered uncertainly, knowing she would not be able to lift the beam alone.

Drake muttered a quick, “Oh, jeez,” and ran to help.

He tossed the beam aside like it weighed no more than a pillow and reached a hand down to help Kiara up, concern etched on his face. She made no move to take his hand, but she did not look hurt; on the contrary, she seemed delighted, if a little shocked.

Blushing a bit, she said, “Oh, merci beaucoup.”

“You okay?” asked Riley, still worried.

Kiara seemed to have forgotten her presence altogether, ogling Drake. Her insolent scrutiny went all the way from his feet to his face, making some uncomfortably long stops along the way. “I am now.”

Huh, so this must be what girls feel like aaall the time. Can’t say I hate it, but I’m sure it gets annoying.

He thought of something normal to say, “You shouldn’t carry this all by yourself.”

Still blushing, Kiara fidgeted with her messy hair, replying, “I... uh, you know how it is. Penelope said she was taking a five minute break thirty minutes ago,” she nodded toward her friend, who was absorbed in a game of fetch with her poodles outside, “and I didn’t want to wait around.”

Drake shook his head, putting a hand lightly on her shoulder, “If you’re going to carry a beam, even a small one, at least find someone like me to help you.”

“Right, I’ll find someone... like you,” she said breathily.

He offered his hand again and this time she took it. Giving him one more lustful look, she said, “Thank you for looking out for me, Drake,” and left them to an awkward silence.

“Do you think you have an admirer?” Riley’s voice sounded much too cheerful, her smile forced.

“I hope not,” he replied honestly.

Kiara chose that exact moment to look back at him over her shoulder, a move that had to be purposefully seductive.

“I think she might be checking you out.”

Trying to get back to their easy teasing, Drake said, “That’s not funny.”

“I’m not laughing!”

It was true. When he glanced at her, he saw the same stiff smile on her face. She was very obviously making the same effort as he was at their usual banter, but somehow it came out forced and weird.

“I don’t want to think about this. Let’s just finish this barn. That’s simple. Just move and build.”

Her smile faded completely. “Right.”

They worked in silence, but it wasn’t the usual comfortable silence of their moments in between.

I hate this. We haven’t been this awkward together since we first met.

You know why that is, don’t you?

I’m not sure.

Don’t play dumb. She’s jealous. You can use this to your advantage.

No! You saw how hurt she was! I don’t want her to feel like she has to fight for my attention!

Why not? You have to fight for her attention all the time. It’s always Liam this, Liam that. Even that night at the Beaumont Bash, she couldn’t wait to go on her date with Liam. Face it, this is the only way she’ll appreciate you.

He rolled his shoulders and mentally shook himself. This was not the time to debate himself – he was way past the point of wondering whether it was right to debate yourself at all. He resolved to focus on the work instead and tried to keep his mind off the awkwardness.

At some point – it could have been 15 minutes or 3 hours – Maxwell came to get Riley, jabbering on about photo-ops and PR. Riley shot him an apologetic grimace that he only half believed; if she’d been feeling anywhere near as weird as he was then she probably felt the tiny bit of relief he did.

Left alone, Drake worked with machine-like efficiency, pausing only to wipe the sweat off his brow when it threatened to sting his eyes. A maid came around offering lemonade and sandwiches, which he gratefully accepted, having forgotten to go back to the manor for a proper breakfast earlier. As he ate his sandwiches – they couldn’t have expected him to take just one – he noted the other nobles gave him a wide berth as usual, and his friends were all busy, which suited him fine. He preferred to be alone with his thoughts for the moment.

Ugh, are Addams and I gonna have to talk about that?

Talk about what?

Jealousy, I guess. What it means for us–

Us? Listen to yourself, there is no us, you moron!

Fine, whatever. If I even want that to be a possibility, I gotta get to the bottom of this shitshow. Who would stand to gain something by ruining Addams’s chances?

The obvious answer was Madeleine, but he wouldn’t allow himself to be blind to other potential culprits. He interrupted his mental list – which ended up including pretty much everyone, rendering it useless – when he saw Bastien walk by.

“Hey, Bastien!” he called after him.

The man doubled back and nodded for a greeting.

“I was thinking about the pictures. The ones from Liam’s bachelor party.”

“What about them?”

“I don’t know, I can’t help feeling that finding out who took them would lead us to the person behind the other pictures.”

Bastien’s lips tightened the way they always did when he disapproved. “That seems like a leap, Drake.”

“How is it a leap?! Two sets of secret pictures taken in such a short period of time? Both of them involving Liam and Riley? How could they not be related?!”

The older man raised his hands, trying to pacify Drake. “I did not mean to say they cannot be related, merely that we shouldn’t jump to conclusions.”

“Fine. You’re still looking into it, though.”

Clicking his tongue irritably, Bastien answered, “Yes, you asked me this recently, of course I am.”

He turned abruptly and stalked off.

Drake could not help but note that Bastien had been acting more and more prickly lately, and while it wasn’t completely out of character for him to snap at Drake, the frequency was out of control. He carefully sifted through his woundedness to get at the heart of what was bothering him about his mentor’s attitude. Bastien seemed overly cautious in this investigation, and it rubbed Drake the wrong way.

Still puzzling over it, Drake kept carrying and placing beams until it hit him: surely Bastien was acting cautious because it was extremely likely that a noble was behind everything. You had to be careful in court not to step on anyone’s toes, or if you were going to do it, you had to at least be certain they were the right toes.

Bastien probably suspected one of the more powerful nobles, and so he couldn’t risk being brash. This left him with a somewhat smaller pool of suspects, which he decided to share with Riley when they had another chance of being alone.

Having finished his area, Drake went out to look at other groups’ progress. Although unpainted, the impressive wooden structure of the barn was finished; it was hard to believe it had been erected in just a few hours.

As he walked up to his friends, Riley voiced Drake’s thoughts, “We did it! And it looks great.”

He elbowed her playfully, “Not bad for a bunch of nobles...”

“That was exhausting,” said Hana, looking composed as usual, “but I’m glad we did it.”

Maxwell, on the other hand, collapsed where he stood, panting, “No more. Can’t... saw... another... plank of wood.”

“Oh, don’t be so dramatic, Maxwell.” Drake seized his hand and tried to pull him to his feet. He wouldn’t budge. “If this was a dance set, you’d still be going.”

“Like a heart, I need a beat to keep going, but all I hear is the angel’s choir. Remember me fondly.” He managed to extricate his hand from Drake’s and let it fall to the ground, his head lolling to one side and his tongue out to indicate his death.

Riley giggled and even Drake allowed a grudging smile, but Hana’s brows knitted together.

“Should we...” she hesitated, leaning halfway down towards Maxwell.

“He’ll be fine,” said Drake.

Just then, Liam sauntered towards them, wiping his face with a towel, which he then handed to one of the surreptitious assistants that shadowed him almost constantly. As per usual, he sported a dazzling smile, which Drake noticed Riley was quick to return.

“Hello, my lords and ladies.”

Drake clapped him on the back. “You managed to escape after all.”

Liam gave an exaggerated sigh. “Until tomorrow at least. It’s been a long day.”

“No kidding. I could really use a bath.”

Drake made an automatic – and ultimately futile – effort to stop himself from picturing Riley in a bath. He could practically see her wet skin glistening, slippery with soap, and her breasts just poking up through the surface of the water. He swallowed, his mouth suddenly watering.

Maxwell chose that very opportune moment to stir and finally shot up to his feet. “Oh, I know of a spa nearby where we could unwind.”

Drake raised an eyebrow. “What happened to being on death’s doorstep?”

Maxwell grinned. “I caught my second wind.”

“I’d love a relaxing spa trip,” said Hana.

“That’d be a nice end to the day,” agreed Liam, offering Riley his arm. She took it with a gracious smile, but Drake caught her glancing at him.

“Let’s go!” Maxwell gestured for them to follow him as he half skipped to the limo.

They piled into it. As Maxwell informed their driver of their destination, Liam popped a bottle of champagne, pouring some for all of them. Once they all had a drink, Liam toasted, “To a job well done and to a rest well earned.”

“Hear, hear!” said Hana, clinking her glass with Liam’s.

Drake clinked his with Riley’s first, making pronounced eye contact which he hoped conveyed his thoughts. Let’s leave today’s weirdness behind. Let’s just be us.

It seemed to work better than he expected, because she gave him a sweet smile and he thought she may have even nodded discreetly, too.

They spent the rest of the ride talking and laughing easily, as close as they came to a normal group of friends. They left the limo as they came up to a squat building made mostly of marble, with wooden accents here and there. Warm yellow light flooded out from the enormous windows, the open wood shutters shadowed the concrete floor outside with long stripes that dissipated towards the end. A pool sparkled in the setting sun, strongly inviting in the lingering heat.

Maxwell whooped as he sprinted to the reception. Liam hurried to catch up with him, possibly worried the receptionist might suffocate under so much enthusiasm. Hana brought up the rear, smiling into the breeze and leaning down to touch the water, which left Riley and Drake alone in the middle of the group.

“So–”

They laughed, insisting that the other go first, until they both fell silent. Drake was just agonizing over what to say, wondering if their relationship would ever stop being awkward now, when he felt Riley’s hand bump into his. She seemed to hesitate at first, then firmly intertwined her fingers with his. He looked down at their hands, more touched by this than he could’ve imagined. It was a leap of faith; he could practically see it on her face, We’ll be okay, right? He squeezed her hand, Of course we will.

He let her hand fall, but could still feel a glow between them as they walked the rest of the way. They were back to good silence.

They caught up to Liam and Maxwell, with Hana joining them a few seconds later. The deferential receptionist handed them all fluffy white robes and directed them to the men’s and women’s spa rooms. Drake and Liam immediately stripped down to their underwear, Drake seizing the opportunity to whip his towel at Liam’s back, hopping away before his friend could get him back.

“You’ll pay for that one, Drake!” Liam laughed.

Drake, however, had become distracted by Maxwell’s continued absence. He’d gone behind a bamboo screen to change, which was already weird in itself as he and Liam weren’t nearly that modest, but stranger still was how long he was taking.

Come to think of it, he’s been extra modest lately.

He didn’t remember Maxwell being that way before. In fact, once he thought about it, he came to the conclusion that he had first noticed it during Liam’s unconventional bachelor party at the beach cove.

He nodded his head towards the screen and Liam shrugged, seeming just as confused as he felt.

“Maxwell?” Liam took a few tentative steps forward. “Is everything okay?”

“Er… yes. I don’t suppose there’s any chance you two would close your eyes for this whole thing?”

Drake chuckled. “What? Dude, what are you talking about? Come out.”

They heard a heavy sigh on the other side, and whispers that sounded like Maxwell hyping himself up. “Okay, promise you won’t laugh.”

Liam said, “Of course,” at the same time as Drake replied, “Not a chance,” and Maxwell stepped out.

Whatever Drake had been expecting, it wasn’t this. Maxwell had a decent-sized tattoo of a baby hippo, of all things, on the right side of this chest. He felt his mouth drop open, too shocked to actually laugh.

To his surprise, it was Liam who let out an involuntary snort that turned into a genuine belly laugh before he could suppress it. He clapped a hand to his mouth, ashamed, and apologized profusely to Maxwell, but it was clear he was working hard to keep the laughter at bay.

Drake on the other hand, had managed to get ahold of himself enough to close his mouth, which was now spreading in a fascinated smile. He trying to choose from a variety of teasing comments to make when Maxwell ran back behind the screen.

Drake changed his tune, “Aw, come on, Maxwell, it’s not that bad!”

“Yeah, right, I could see it in your face you were about to say something.”

“I mean, don’t get me wrong, I’m definitely gonna tease you, but you’ll be fine.”

Liam gave him a look that made it clear he should stop speaking and let him coax Maxwell out, when the door burst open and Riley and Hana came in, giggling.

“Surprise!” squealed Hana.

“Hey, guys!”

“Oh!” Liam automatically grabbed his towel when he turned to look at them, as if fearful it would fall off. “Riley, Hana! Should we... er... cover up more?”

Riley rolled her eyes at the suggestion, which made Drake snicker. “I think the ladies will be fine.”

To everyone’s surprise, it was Hana who said, “Yes, I’ve seen a man in a towel before.”

Drake had been on the point of asking whom and why, when Riley looked around and asked, “Wait a second... where’s Maxwell?”

With a gloating smile, Drake gestured to the screen. “Hiding. And that was before you all burst in. Come on out, Maxwell.”

Liam’s voice was trembling with contained laughter. “Yes. You can’t hide forever.”

Maxwell shuffled out of the screen, his timid steps undercutting his defiant words. “Go ahead and laugh if you want.” In a smaller voice, he added, “Just don’t tell Bertrand you saw it.”

“Is that a baby hippo?” Hana asked, delighted.

Riley, like Drake, seemed to be speechless for a few seconds. Her hands were covering her mouth and she was wearing an expression much like a kid’s on Christmas morning. She slowly lowered her hands to say, in hushed tones, “Wow... Maxwell, that tattoo is the best thing I’ve ever seen.”

Maxwell’s face was split by a huge grin. “Really? You like it?”

“Love. I love it,” she said fervently.

Maxwell blushed. “Aw... heh, now I wish I’d shown it to you sooner!”

“Would I be correct in guessing that there’s a story of some sort behind this?” asked Hana.

“Kinda…” Maxwell shook his head as if to get rid of the flush creeping up to his cheeks, then cleared his throat and started, When I was a kid, my mom would call me her little hippo.”

Drake and Liam, who had been holding in their laughter this whole time finally broke. Riley smiled even wider than before and said, “I didn’t think it was possible for this moment to get better, but here we are.”

Hana glared at all of them in turn, which made them all moderate their amusement; it was clear this was important to Maxwell.

“I was kind of chubby when I was younger, before I got into dancing. My dad was really hard on me about it, but my mom never made me feel bad.” Maxwell’s smile turned dreamy and he suddenly seemed far away.

“She was really smart and funny. She said I was just like a hippo... fun-loving, but tough, and always able to make her smile. And she made them sound really cool and amazing.” Maxwell’s voice got quieter and slower, his previous enthusiasm fading. “Anyway, when she passed away, I wanted to do something to commemorate her. I told Bertrand I was going to get something done... I guess he thought I meant like, have some artwork commissioned... So he was pretty surprised when he saw this.”

A smile slipped out at the end and it was such a Maxwell smile, sheepish but unapologetic, that Drake felt a rush of affection for his impulsive friend.

“I can imagine...” muttered Riley.

“I suppose it doesn’t particularly fit with the image of House Beaumont that Bertrand’s striving to maintain...” agreed Hana.

“Yeah, this was more or less his second to worst nightmare. Or so he keeps telling me, anyway... So he said that if we’re ever around the nobility or servants, I had to keep it covered up. But... I can trust you, right?”

He asked this so earnestly that Drake put his arm around his shoulders, while Liam nodded solemnly.

“Of course! On my honor,” Hana said, crossing her heart.

Riley winked and said, “Maxwell, I’ll only tease you when Bertrand isn’t around.”

Maxwell chuckled. “That’s all I ask.”

Sensing that Maxwell could use a change in subject, Drake said, “As fun as discussing Maxwell’s hippo tattoo has been, I’m going to take a dip in the cold plunge... Anyone want to join?”

Liam shuddered. “No thanks. After today, I’m relaxing in the tub...”

They parted ways, leaving Hana and Maxwell talking in the same spot and Riley… Drake had deliberately avoided looking at her as he walked towards the pool, not wanting to get his hopes up or influence her decision in any way.

He discarded his towel and stood at the edge of the pool in his blue boxer briefs. He was taking air in through his mouth, trying to convince his body that cold was an illusion, when a voice coming from somewhere below his left shoulder said, “Trying to summon your courage?”

Without looking back at her, he replied, “This is supposed to be good for you.”

“Oh?” Riley stepped up next to him at this, looking curiously up at him.

“Yeah. Like most things in life, the best thing is sometimes the most painful.” He held her eyes, which revealed her agreement. “Want to do it with me?”

“The cold plunge? I’m in!”

She unwound her towel. She was wearing a simpler bra than she had last time he had seen her in her underwear. Not that that made anything easier. It was a basic black bra and matching panties and he was making a huge effort not to let his mind linger on the contrast between them and her soft, pale skin.

“Really?” He had half expected her to say no – the water really was freezing – but upon reflection he realized what a foolish thought that had been; when had she ever backed down from anything?

“Can’t let you do it alone.”

“That’s the spirit.”

This time he took her hand which judging by Riley’s smile, filled her with joy.

“Here goes...” She swung their hands together, giddy with the anticipation of the coldness.

Drake started a countdown, trusting she wouldn’t abandon him at the last moment. “One... two...”

“Three!”

They bent their knees and jumped at the same time, their joined hands awkward in midair due to the height difference. Drake’s entire body seemed to rebel against the cold, coming alive in a way that made its normal state seem dull and pitiful. He broke the surface with a huge gasp, his lungs feeling like they were struggling to fulfill their regular functions.

Riley came up next to him, just as shaken and out of breath as he was. “That was...”

He tried to get his breathing under control. “Intense?”

She breathed out a laugh, her chest still moving up and down. “That’s one word for it.”

He took a slow step closer to her and raised his hands to her waist, barely touching her. “Having trouble keeping up with me, Addams?”

She jutted her chin out. “Me? Never.” She came closer still, letting her hands rest just as lightly on his chest.

He laughed softly, his breathing erratic for reasons that had more to do with being able to count the drops hanging from Riley’s long lashes and less with the water’s temperature.

“You know,” he murmured before he could think better of it, “you owe me something.”

“Oh, do I?” She, too, was breathing unnaturally, he noticed.

“We had a bet to see who could get Maxwell to take off his shirt, remember?”

She opened her mouth in outrage. “That’s bullshit! You didn’t do anything!”

“You don’t know that.”

She narrowed her eyes and abruptly leaned the rest of the distance – tiny as it was – towards him. He had a moment of panicked excitement thinking she was going to kiss him, and so was disconcerted for a moment when he felt her lips near his ear.

“Fine. I owe you whatever you want.”

If the sultry whisper hadn’t been enough to make Drake want to take her somewhere – anywhere – they could be alone, the soft kiss she laid on his earlobe sure was. His hand involuntarily flew to her hair and she inhaled so sharply it was almost a gasp. This brought him somewhat back from the brink, reminding him of where and with whom they were.

He couldn’t resist the temptation of getting the last word in, though. Leaning in as close as she had, he whispered huskily, “I’ll hold you to that.”

He let go of her before she could recover – and he saw with some satisfaction that she did need a second to gather herself – and heaved himself out of the pool, offering his hand to her with a smirk.

She thanked him for pulling her out, still whispering, her eyes wider than usual. Then her face hardened with resolve. She quickly looked around and the next thing he knew, her lips were on his. She cut off the kiss, looking up at his reaction.

All he could say was, “Whoa!” and it was all he needed; I’m sure as hell not gonna waste my time talking right now.

He glanced back to make sure everyone was still engrossed in their activities, then pulled her back to him, responding with the kind of eagerness she had hoped for. She opened her mouth sooner than she had any other time, allowing his tongue to explore and then joining him with her own. Emboldened by their conversation in the pool and wanting to erase the first half of the day, he bit her lip gently, which made her moan in response. Ironically, it was knowing how turned on he was that made him stop.

They both panted the way they had in pool as they smiled goofily at each other.

“You’re full of surprises,” he said, not willing to let go of her hand just yet.

“Good ones, I hope?”

“You know, you can surprise me like that any day…”

I wish you could surprise me like that every day...

He grimaced and finally let her go. “But right now, we should probably...”

She scrunched up her nose and pouted. “Be sensible and discreet?”

“Unfortunately.” He caressed her cheek lightly with the back of his hand. “And believe me when I say that it’s very unfortunate.”

She sighed. “I guess we should check out the rest of the spa.”

They headed back to the hot tub, where Maxwell and Hana had joined Liam.

“I can’t believe you guys were in there this whole time! It’s freezing!” said Maxwell.

Liam had a troubled look on his face, but said nothing.

Could he have seen us?

Uh, duh. This place isn’t that big! That was a stupid fucking risk to take.

But I made sure he wasn’t looking…

He wasn’t sure what to make of it, but from Riley’s sudden stiffness next to him, he sensed she had noticed, too.

Before he could analyze Liam’s expression properly, Maxwell grew tired of the hot tub. He stepped out of it, steam rising from his shoulders and walked over to the pool.

“Hey, everyone! Watch this!”

He dragged a chair to the edge of the pool and got up on it, his back to the pool and his knees bent. Drake thought he knew where this was heading and felt a twinge of concern.

Thankfully, Hana voiced it before he had to, “Is that safe?”

“Almost certainly not,” Maxwell answered before doing a backflip into the pool. He had to admit it was pretty impressive.

“I’m next!” Riley piped up.

“Step right up, step right up...” Maxwell shouted from the pool, sounding like a carnival ringmaster.

Once again, Hana said exactly what Drake was thinking, “Be careful...”

Drake’s heart felt like it was in his throat, watching Riley get on that chair.

With her signature confidence, she said, “I’ve got this!”

Her backflip, while evidently less practiced than Maxwell’s, was still well-executed and more importantly, ended with her safely in the pool.

This time Drake didn’t hesitate to compliment the move. “Okay, that was impressive.”

Liam clapped for her. “Very well done, Lady Riley.”

“Looks like I’ve finally met my match,” said Maxwell, putting an arm around her.

A clock installed over the door went off and Liam said, “It looks like our time here is at an end...”

“This has been so fun...” said Hana while helping Riley out from the pool and enveloping her in a towel. She squeezed Riley a little and continued, “I’m so glad we did this!”

“Yeah. This wasn’t so bad, as far as our capers go.” Drake glanced at Riley as he said this and noticed the smile playing on the corners of her lips; it had been way better than “not so bad” for them.

Liam clapped his back. “Highest of praise from Drake.”

Riley let her smile come out in full and looked around at the other four. “I’m glad we got to do this, too.”

Drake spent the ride back in silence, more determined than ever to find whoever was responsible for this conspiracy against his best friend and the girl he was crazy about. He had a bet to cash in on, after all.

#trr #the royal romance #drake x mc #drake walker #king liam #hana lee #maxwell beaumont #pb #pixelberry #choices #playchoices #fanfic #ch 2.3 #the marshmallow chronicles #long post

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