Royalty, Romance Novels + Secret Attackers

Second Date

Ok, now we're getting somewhere.

"Mine is yellow. Like the color of fluffy bumblebees."

"Ah," he nods.

"Ok, so it's your turn to ask a question."

"What's in the package?" He asks.

My brows furrow. "What package?"

"The one that was delivered to my room by mistake. What was in it?"

I roll my eyes. "You're supposed to ask questions regarding my personality, not my shopping habits."

"And I will, by learning what you got. I can use my turn to ask whatever I want. Again, what's in the package?" He responds, doubling down.

I cross my arms. "You don't want to know."

He snorts. "Yes I do. What is it?"

"What if its something regarding my health?"

"You would've said something vague about it at this point, to change the subject. Just answer already."

I frown. "Fine. Its a blobfish mug that says hugs not thugs. I thought it was funny. Happy?"

Gus snorts. "And what are you going to do with it?"

"Leave it on a shelf and laugh at it every time I look at it. So next question. When were you born? Please tell me it was in August."

"No. October 16, 1997." He answers flatly, shaking his head.

"Dang. Missed opportunity. May 8, 1998. Your turn."

"What other stupid things do you buy online?"

"Is this entire game just going to be you asking about everything I order for myself?" I snap.

"You don't like that question? How about a different one. Why did you break up with Prince Christopher?"

"Not better." I grit out. "How about my question? How'd you get your terrible reputation?" I counter.

He scoffs. "What reputation?" A flash of light goes off behind him. I ignore it.

"It's always said that you're in a bad mood and it rubs off on everyone."

"Oh, so I have to match your irritating moods to be a people pleaser?"

"Maybe that would help."

There's another flash of lights in my eyes and I squint away. What is wrong with the lights?

"So, what are we getting today?" The waitress, Rachel, interrupts.

"You may go first, sweetheart," Gus responds, sarcasm dripping off his tone. I cringe at the nickname.

"I'll have the risotto with extra onions on top." I tell her.

"Disgusting." Gus mutters.

"Your turn, my little honey melon," I say, smiling sweetly at Gus. If he's going to call me stupid nicknames, then this will be my declaration of war!

"The lobster, please." He answers, ignoring me. "Could you make sure there's no peppers in it? I have a bad reaction to them."

"Picky," I huff under my breath.

"Of course. I'll tell chef." She gives a quick bob and rushes off.

I click my tongue as I look around. "Ok, things started to get a little heated there so let's start again. What's your favorite holiday?" I ask.

He glances at me with with a look that is half-irritated and half-ashamed. "Thanksgiving."

Once again no explanation. Having insight into your thought process would be nice. "Mine's Christmas."