He rose from his stool and left to make a fresh pot of coffee. When he returned, he noticed most of the group remained, chatting and hugging. But the girl was gone. She hadn’t said a word.
Her notebook rested on a chair.
Merrick could give it to Miss Brandes. She did work at the school and would have no problem returning it. He could also place it in the lost and found, which was what he was supposed to do in the event someone left a belonging behind. It was his job. He’d have done it with anyone else and forgotten about it.
Before he could change his mind, Merrick snatched up the notebook and peeked inside the cover. He smiled at the name penned there in practiced cursive, then snapped it closed and sprinted for the exit. She’d probably already left. It wasn’t like she would be waiting around for him, her knight in shining armor, to return her beloved pages.
When he reached the curb beside the parking lot, Merrick scanned the area. The night lamps had come on, washing the asphalt in yellow light. And there, on a bench between two hydrangea bushes, sat the girl. She didn’t seem to notice him. She was too engrossed in whatever she was doing on her phone.
He approached and cleared his throat. At the risk of coming off as a total creep, he said, “Hi.”
She didn’t look up. Kept scrolling through social media.
Merrick swallowed hard. Was she ignoring him? Lost in thought? He stepped closer and peered over her shoulder. She had done a word search for princes in the United States, which pulled up some interesting profiles.
“Hi,” he said again.
She jumped this time, pressed the phone to her chest.
He held in a laugh. Though she was older, the girl reminded him a little bit of his sister. Amaya was easily startled too when focused on a particular thing.
“Sorry,” Merrick said. “I saw you inside. At the meeting? I’m Merrick.”
Not an ounce of recognition altered her expression.
“Anyway . . .” He dragged out the word. This was not going well. Merrick needed to redeem himself. He offered the notebook. “You left this . . .” Was she going to tell him her name?
No. She wasn’t. Her eyes widened. “Did you read it?”
Merrick blinked. He wasn’t the greatest guy in the world, but did he strike her as someone who would read someone else’s private whatever it was? Looking inside for her name didn’t count. “No. Of course not.” He shuffled from foot to foot. What was it about this girl that made him nervous? “I didn’t get your name back there.” If she knew he’d opened it, he’d never stand a chance. Better to let her give an introduction.
“I didn’t give it,” she said, deadpan.
He chuckled. Kicked a small pebble by his shoe. “Right . . .” He dragged the word out. “Well, then, you leave me no choice but to guess . . . Anna?”
The girl rose, pocketed her phone, and tucked the notebook under one arm. She was short, her forehead only reaching Merrick’s chin, he guessed. He’d have to get closer to know for sure.
She looked him straight on as if assessing his truthfulness about the notebook. A pearl bracelet on her wrist caught his eye.
Where had he seen it before?
He abandoned his game and said, “I promise.” He held up his hands in surrender. “I didn’t read it.” Merrick made an X over his heart with one finger the way he used to with Amaya. “I’ll pinky promise if you like.” Lame. Now she was going to think he was making up an excuse to touch her.
The girl, still nameless, scrunched her eyebrows. “Pinky promise?”
“Aww, seriously? You’ve never pinky promised anyone?”
She shook her head.
Her naiveté was adorable and Merrick couldn’t help himself. “Can I show you?”
She hesitated.
“Please? It’ll just take a second.” Why did he care if she knew how to pinky promise? They were both way too old for this sort of thing.
“Okay.”
“Yeah?” His heart raced faster the longer her eyes remained on his.
This was insane. He’d full on made out with Nikki multiple times. So why did this girl send his confidence packing? They hadn’t even touched yet.
“So it’s . . . you stick out one pinky finger.” He showed her and she copied him. “Then we link.” He stepped close enough that he could smell whatever body lotion or shampoo she used. Like sunscreen and pineapple. Vacation. Escape.
The girl stared up at him. She was impossible to read.
Merrick wrapped his pinky finger around hers and shook it gently. How could a touch so slight raise this many feelings at once? He cleared his throat and backed away. “And that’s a pinky promise. Now you know I didn’t read it.”
“Do I?” She raised one eyebrow. Again, adorable. “How so?”
“Because breaking a pinky promise is treason.” He toed the ground. He needed to get back inside so he could start breaking down the chairs and cleaning up the food. But this girl was so much more interesting.
“What happens if you break it?”
He’d never been asked this before. He and Amaya knew there was no way around the pinky. “I guess if I break it then I have to give you something.”
“Like what?”
His phone vibrated. He ignored it. “What do you want?”
She tilted her head. The longer he studied her, the more he was sure this wasn’t their first meeting. At the same time she said, “A prince,” Merrick asked, “Have we met before?”
“No,” she said almost immediately.
“Are you sure?” He racked his brain. It wasn’t every day he saw eyes like hers. Violet mixed with ocean blue. “I’m pretty sure . . . Wait—” He tried to read the creases in her forehead and the unsure way in which she held herself.
The image of where he’d seen her became clear. It was the reason she’d come to the meeting tonight.
He dropped his gaze.
The first time they’d met had lasted mere seconds, but however short-lived, all he cared to do was forget that night ever happened.
But here she was. In his life again. “I’ve always believed in fate.” Now he was sure it existed.
“Fate is for fairy tales. It doesn’t exist.”
We’ll see about that. “I was there. That night.” He didn’t explain or give more of a reference. When he found her gaze again, he had everything he needed.
The girl blinked, then took a step back, recognition a swirling storm in her eyes.
Everything in him wanted to quiet that storm.
A few people walked past them, talking and chatting. Bastian even waved a thanks to Merrick before he got into his car.
But Merrick kept his eyes on the girl without a name. Not even he thought he was ready to understand everything she had bottled inside. But, for some reason he couldn’t figure, he wanted to. And he told her as much when he said, “I know a prince.”
Her eyes held an ocean of pain, confusion, and maybe even hope?
If it took every last promise he had in him, Merrick was determined to do whatever it took to set that ocean free.
Twenty-Two
Coral
Coral could hardly believe he was real.
The human who had taken her sister. He’d been here all along.
And he claimed he knew a prince.
Did she dare believe him? A human? Her grandmother hoped going to the meeting would help her move past her pain. It was pain that drove Coral toward her goal. Was she supposed to ignore what happened to her sister?