Waiting for Prince Harry (20 page)

“You’re a good man,” I say aloud as we make our way to the Mexican restaurant.

“Remember that the next time I piss you off.”

We both laugh as Harrison pulls open the door to the restaurant, and it is crowded for a Sunday night. Conversation is carried over the sound of the music, and tables are filled with diners noshing on chips and sipping margaritas as they wait for meals to arrive. A waiter moves past with a sizzling tray of fajitas, and I wonder if Harrison would share a platter of those with me.

I scan the restaurant for my parents. I don’t see them, but spot my brother.

I turn to Harrison. “Brandon and Candace are at the bar,” I say, squeezing his hand in mine. “Just remember, Brandon might be rough on you at first, but he’s like that. Don’t take it personally. He’s protective of me,” I say. “But he will like you, Harrison. I know he will.”

“Well we have one thing in common already,” Harrison says.

“What’s that?”

“We’re both protective of you.”

Okay, I would seriously fly off to Las Vegas and marry this man
tonight
if he asked me.

I feel Harrison put his hand on the small of my back, and we head over toward the bar. Again, I feel eyes on us as we move. The people pointing and whispering. The furrowed brows of people trying to figure out if he is really Harrison Flynn . . .

“Kylie,” Candace cries out, putting her frozen swirl margarita down on the shiny black bar top and grabbing me for a hug. “It’s so good to see you.”

I step back from her and smile. She looks tanned and happy, just like someone should after a tropical honeymoon in St. Bart’s.

“Good to see you, too. And you look gorgeous,” I say honestly. “I can’t wait to hear about your trip.”

“Who cares?” Candace cries, looking over at Harrison. “I can’t believe we have one of Dallas’ most famous athletes joining us for dinner tonight.”

Oh God. Oh no.
Oh Please don’t act like a fan
, I mentally scream.
Please treat him like my boyfriend. Please, for the love of God, please, Candace!

“Hi,” Harrison says, extending his hand to Candace. “Harrison Flynn. Glad to meet you.”

“Oh, I
know
who you are,” Candace giggles. “You’re in
Dallas Details
all the time. And I pass your face every day on Mockingbird Lane. Your billboard promoting season ticket sales is
huge
!”

My stomach begins to slide. Oh shit. Why do I have a feeling this is not going to go well?

I clear my throat and look at Brandon, who is already eyeing up Harrison and all he has done is introduce himself.

“Harrison,” I say, smiling at Brandon, “this is my brother, Brandon. Brandon, Harrison Flynn.”

Harrison immediately thrusts out his hand. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Brandon,” he says. “Kylie has told me a lot about you. About both of you, actually.”

“Likewise,” Brandon says, shaking Harrison’s hand. “Except Kylie really hasn’t told us anything about you.”

Damn it, Brandon
! He knows the reason I haven’t told him much is because I was protecting what Harrison and I are building.

I glance up at Harrison, whose eyebrows are furrowed.

“That’s because I want you to discover how amazing Harrison is by getting to know him yourself,” I say pointedly. “Just like I did.”

Brandon just takes a sip of his blue margarita.

And a silence falls over us.

Shit. I glance at Harrison, who looks bewildered. So does Candace. And Brandon is just keeping a steady gaze on Harrison.

My heart suddenly stops inside my chest. Oh, God, what if my family fucks this up for me? That could be enough to chase Harrison away. For him to say, “Who needs this shit?” when there are millions of girls out there for him to pick from with normal-acting families—

“Do y’all want a drink? Mom texted me, they are running a little late,” Brandon says, breaking the silence.

Yes. A drink. I need a drink. And at this rate, preferably a bottle of tequila.

“Okay,” Harrison says. He begins to rub the small of my back and I feel myself relax a tiny bit. “What would you like, Kylie?”

“A frozen pomegranate margarita,” I say.

“You got it,” Harrison says. Then he looks at Brandon and Candace. “Do you guys need a refill or anything?”

“No, we’re good,” Brandon says, picking up his margarita.

Harrison nods and goes over to the other side of the bar, where the bartender is running a blender. As soon as Harrison is out of earshot, Candace latches on to my arm.

“Kylie, I can’t believe you’re with Harrison Flynn,” she cries. “He’s like the most
eligible bachelor
in Dallas!”

“
Bachelor
being the operative word,” Brandon says, looking across the bar at Harrison.

My defenses instantly shoot up. I’m about to say something when Brandon interrupts my thoughts.

“And just as I suspected,” Brandon says knowingly. “There’s our eligible bachelor, right at work.”

I turn and look across the bar, and I see a gorgeous young woman talking with Harrison. And by gorgeous, I mean
perfect
. She’s tall, but has curves in all the right places, stunning long blonde hair, and her makeup is applied just right. Her clothes are top of the line and sexy without being slutty. She is flashing Harrison a huge smile, and then she takes a pen and hands him a napkin.

My stomach has now coiled into a knot. I
know
this happens. I
know
there are Puck Bunnies and Flynnbabes whenever he is out.

But this is the first time I’ve
seen
what happens when I’m not around. Women who are savvier than me, prettier than me—openly approach him.

And even though I know I’m the only girl he wants, it’s hard to see this play out in front of me. Like I’m not here. Like the fact that he walked in with me doesn’t matter.

I watch as Harrison scrawls something on the napkin and hands it back to the girl, who then hands her cell phone to the bartender, who snaps a picture. I notice the girl has put her arm around his back, too.

“What are the odds he just slipped her his phone number?” Brandon asks.

“
Brandon
!” Candace and I yell at the same time.

“Don’t be like that,” Candace cries, looking appalled.

Normally I would just ignore this. Let it eat away at me internally without saying a word because I fear confrontation. I would swallow it down and save the fight for a better one. One in the future, so I wouldn’t have to face confrontation now.

But not when Brandon’s attacking the one thing I value more than anything on this earth.

Suddenly the words come flying out of my mouth, as my need to protect Harrison makes me reach down and find the courage to fight back.

“You’re going to stop this right now, Brandon,” I say, my voice shaking in anger. “I won’t tolerate you judging him like this. If you’re going to keep these comments up, we’re leaving. Your behavior will determine if we stay or go.”

Chapter 25

The Pop Quiz Question:
It’s time to introduce your boyfriend to your family. How will they respond?

A) Why on earth would I introduce him to them? I’m not serious with him.

B) It’s that awkward first ‘getting to know you’ meet and greet, but if I like him, they will like him, too.

C) If he doesn’t run screaming by the end of the evening I’ll coin it a raving success.

Bam!
The look of shock on Brandon’s face is priceless. He was never,
ever
, expecting me to call him out and issue an ultimatum on his behavior.

To be honest, I’m rather shocked I did it myself. But once again, my feelings for Harrison are making me grow in so many ways.

Like this.

Before Brandon can say anything in response, Harrison comes back and hands me a margarita.

“Kylie?” Harrison asks, his perceptive eyes moving from me to Brandon and back again.

I turn and force a big smile on my face. “Thank you.”

Harrison is gripping his Corona in his hand, and his gaze is focused on me. I can tell he’s about to ask me if I’m okay—

“We’ve made it!”

I turn around and see my parents walking up. Oh thank God. They couldn’t have had better timing if they tried.

“Hi, Mom,” I say happily.

“Hi, sweetie,” my mom says, giving me a hug.

I inhale the familiar scent of Chanel No. 5 on her skin and say a quick prayer.
Please be normal to Harrison tonight. Please.

My dad follows with a huge bear hug, and they hug Candace and Brandon. And then all eyes turn to Harrison.

“Mom, Dad,” I say, “I would like for you to meet Harrison Flynn. Harrison, this is my mom, Hilary, and my dad, Jack.”

Harrison immediately extends his hand to my mother. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Mrs. Reed. Thank you for allowing me to join you this evening.”

My mom gives a bright laugh. “Oh, please, call me Hilary. And I already feel like I’ve met you, with everything I have read online since I found out Kylie was seeing you.”

Fuck! The one thing Harrison does not want to hear is how people have researched him!

I can’t breathe as I glance up at Harrison. I know this is upsetting him, but I can’t see it on his face.

I watch as he smiles easily at my mom. “Well, Hilary, that’s only one part of the story. The fiction written about me is much more entertaining than reality, I’m afraid.”

I can breathe again. Harrison is going to roll with this.

“I doubt that,” my father says, shaking Harrison’s hand. “Jack Reed. Nice to meet the Captain of the Dallas Demons in the flesh. Great season you had this past year. I just hope we have another one and aren’t locked out.”

Seriously, can they hit any more of Harrison’s hot buttons?

“I’m hoping there will be a resolution to that soon,” Harrison says easily, sidestepping that topic. “And again, thank you for inviting me to dinner tonight.”

“Oh, of course. We want to know the man that Kylie is utterly crazy about,” my mother exclaims. “Except we don’t want to know about all the models you previously dated, right, Kylie?” my mom says, laughing.

Shoot me. Shoot me now.

I clear my throat. “Brandon, do you want to let them know we’re all here now? I’m starving.”

“Sure thing, K,” Brandon says.

He goes up front to talk to the hostess. And as I follow him with my eyes, I see that some people are taking pictures of Harrison. And with a sinking stomach, I know these will be thrown up on Twitter, Instagram, and Connectivity in seconds.

“Excuse me, Harrison?”

I turn around and see a stunning redhead with an A+ boob job standing behind us.

Harrison turns around. “Yes?”

“I’m so sorry to bother you at dinner, but could I please get your autograph? I’m one of your
biggest
fans.”

I bite down on my lip. I can’t believe this. We’ve been here less than 10 minutes and two people have interrupted his personal time for autographs. Two adult women, who should know better.

Or is that two Flynnbabes who have their radars locked and loaded on single Harrison Flynn?

“Sure,” Harrison says, taking the Sharpie she has extended to him. “What would you like me to sign?”

The redhead casually leans forward. “You could sign my chest,” she says, suggestively batting her eyelashes at him. “I’m afraid I don’t have any paper on me.”

Are you fucking kidding? Sign your
chest
?

“Let me get a napkin from the bar,” Harrison says. He glances over at Candace, whose eyes are popped wide open at the horror movie unfolding in front of my eyes. “Candace, would you please hand me a napkin?”

Candace does as she is told.

“Thank you,” Harrison says. Then he uncaps the Sharpie, holds the napkin against his thigh, and scrawls ‘Harrison Flynn #22’ on it. He hands the cocktail napkin back to her. “Here you go.”

“Ooooooh, now I can say I have something that has touched your thigh,” she says, winking at him. “Thank you so much.”

I feel nothing but anger as I stare at her retreating back. This fan knows Harrison is trying to have a night out. It’s obvious he is with
me
. And she has the nerve to come over here and flirt with him right in front of my face?

I glance over at my parents and Candace, who are all wearing stunned expressions.

Harrison clears his throat. “I’m very sorry about that.”

“Does this happen all the time?” my mother asks, concern floating over her face.

Harrison is about to answer when Brandon comes back and announces our table is ready.

I silently thank God and we make our way to the table, which unfortunately is in the freaking middle of the restaurant.

Harrison quickly pulls out my chair. I sink into it, keenly aware that we are being stared at.

Like animals in a zoo.

He takes the seat next to me and as soon as he does, Harrison reaches for my hand underneath the table and gives it a squeeze. Although I’m rattled by the people taking pictures of us while we try to have a family meal, his touch instantly brings me comfort.

Harrison flips open the menu and leans over to me. “What’s good here, Kylie?”

I smile at him. “Fajitas. I love those. I like the shrimp ones the best.”

“That works for me,” Harrison says, closing his menu.

Chips and salsa are brought to the table, and for a moment everyone is distracted with looking at the menu and devouring sweet potato and blue corn tortilla chips. After we order, I feel all eyes at the table shift to Harrison.

“So, Harrison,” my mother says, running a hand through her short dark hair and tucking it behind her ear, “I read that your parents are Harvard professors. That’s incredible, to have that kind of genius in the family.”

Fuck. I resist the urge to down my margarita and ask for a row of tequila shots to get through this.

Of course she picks another hot button topic.
Of course
.

Harrison takes a sip of his beer and puts it on the table, fiddling with the coaster underneath it. “Yes, they are. They’re brilliant people. I can’t even begin to speak of all they have accomplished. I can only aspire to accomplish a tenth of what they have in my lifetime.”

“But what about all that you’ve accomplished?” Candace pipes up. “You almost got the Demons to the finals last year. Not to mention your
modeling
career.”

“I’d like to think, other than my achievements on the ice, that my Harrison Flynn Foundation supporting mental illness health is my biggest accomplishment, actually.”

I love you. I’m so in love with you.

“Oh, yes, of course,” Candace nods. “But back to your modeling for a moment. I have a
teeny
favor to ask you, Harrison.”

Oh, please don’t, Candace. Please don’t ask him a favor.

Unless it’s to pass the salsa. That would be okay.

“Sure, anything,” Harrison says.

Candace reaches into her YSL tote—one of the uber expensive gifts Brandon gave her right before the wedding—and whips out a color photocopy of his
Esquire
photo shoot article.

“Could you please sign this?” Candace asks. “And then if I could get your picture with me next to you holding it up to put on my Connectivity page?”

She did not just ask him that.

“Because we are practically family, right?” she adds.

My stomach completely rolls over. Harrison is going to dump me in the parking lot tonight. Who would put up with this?

“Sure, I’d be happy to, Candace,” Harrison says easily. “But would you mind if we did it at the end of dinner? Otherwise people might start coming over to take pictures, and I don’t want to ruin your family dinner tonight.”

I squeeze his hand. Harrison is handling this like he does when he’s on the ice playing a game. Agile, quick thinking, and swiftly able to move around the obstacles in his path.

But living all this just brings home the fact that Harrison is bothered at all times when he goes out. He just can’t go out and be “Harrison” like we do when we are at Home Depot early in the morning before people really get going, or when we were at the Dallas Arboretum. In fact, right now, people are still taking pictures and pointing at us, which is really weird for me.

But it is something I’m going to have to learn to accept to be with him.

Harrison begins asking questions of my parents, Candace, and Brandon, who is still eying Harrison with a lot of suspicion. But anytime Harrison tries to talk to them about their own lives and interests, like a normal boyfriend would—my family comes right back to talking about Harrison Flynn, Hockey God.

It’s so strange. To me, he’s Harrison. My boyfriend. The man who is kind and compassionate, protective, and fun to be around. He’s an excellent cook, dog-lover, and knows how to renovate homes, and is passionate about helping people struggling with mental illness.

But my family doesn’t care about that Harrison, the man I have come to know and fallen in love with.

They are simply intrigued with celebrity Harrison, and that is who they want to know tonight.

So this goes on, with fans stopping by to talk to Harrison and congratulate him on the Demons’ great season, or to say they are his biggest fan. Just to add some more awkwardness to an already awkward evening.

Finally our food arrives and for a few minutes my family is distracted with that, thank God.

“So, Harrison,” Brandon says, putting his fork down on his enchilada plate, “the life of the professional athlete. From everything I’ve read, it seems that womanizing and heavy drinking are the norm. Do you find that to be true?”

What? I’m about to go mental. How
dare
Brandon ask him this kind of shit? I open my mouth to speak but Harrison beats me to it.

“Fair question, Brandon,” Harrison says evenly. “Yes, that’s true for some athletes. But not all of us. And certainly not me. It’s always dangerous to make a stereotypical assumption like that, though. It’s easy enough to do, of course, I’ll grant you that. But it’s dangerous. I mean, that would be like me accusing you of being an ambulance chaser because you are a lawyer. And that would be wrong, of course, now wouldn’t it?”

I love this man.

Harrison had just put Brandon right in his place. Brandon meekly agrees with him and goes about eating again, and finally the subject and grilling of Harrison Flynn Hockey God has stopped.

And if Harrison doesn’t break up with me tonight after all of this crazy nonsense, I’ll be utterly amazed.

The meal ends, Candace gets her picture with Harrison, and we all exchange goodbyes. We begin making our way back toward the car, and as soon as we are alone in the SUV, I nearly burst into tears.

“I . . . I’m so sorry!” I blurt out. “I’m so sorry they acted like that!”

Harrison turns to me, confusion on his face. “What? What are you talking about?”

“They were grilling you,” I cry, the words tumbling out in a rush as Harrison stares at me. I bury my head into his broad chest. “All they wanted to know was Hockey God Harrison Flynn. I’m embarrassed. I’m mortified about all of it. They don’t even know you, the man I—”

I can’t tell him I love him. Nothing would make a guy bolt faster than going through all that craziness and then—after a mere few weeks—some woman confessing her love to him. No. I can’t say it, even if I know I do love him.

“—the man I have come to know,” I correct.

Harrison puts his hands on my arms and pushes me back so he can look at me.

“Whoa. Stop right there, Kylie. They’re protecting you, and that is what a family should do. You have no reason to be upset about tonight. In fact, I’m worried about what you thought about dinner.”

“What?” I ask, utterly confused.

Harrison looks away for a second. He turns back to me and I see nothing but worry on his face.

“No woman should have to deal with the bullshit that comes with me,” he says, reaching for my hands and squeezing them tightly. “All the Seekers interrupting our meal, the Puck Bunnies, people taking pictures. It’s fucking insane, Kylie. I know that had to make you feel awkward. Tell me, Kylie. How do you really feel about that?”

I hold my breath.
Confide in him
, my head whispers.
Just tell him it’s annoying and strange and upsetting and I need help to get used to it. Tell him the truth.