Page 32 of Misadventures with a Time Traveler

I shall have that moment from her before this day is done. I swear it.

“This is Max,” she offers, her voice suffused with new warmth. “Or if you prefer the fancy method-actor version, Maximillian.”

Raegan clasps both hands beneath her impish grin. “It’s epic to meet you, Maximillian.”

“What she said.” Drue begins braiding her long cobalt hair. “And is there a last name to go with that too?”

For a long moment, perplexity prevents my answer. They are staying in my home. Do they not know my last name?

In that interim, Alessandra interjects, “Oh, let’s not wreck an awesome field trip with last names.”

“Or blogger babe getting too emotionally attached?” Drue quips.

“Shut it,” Alessandra says.

“Fine.” Drue sighs heavily while producing an object from her reticule resembling a thin snuff box. The box is painted with enamel matching her hair, though instead of opening the lid, she starts tapping on the box’s bottom. “I really just need social media handles, anyway. Out with it, mister.”

“Out?” I blurt. “Uh, well…yes, of course. The…handles. Because they are important, and…”

“And this is the twenty-first century. The day and age where I’m not going to let some stranger keep doing the horizontal mambo with my friend without checking him out on every platform I can. You comprende moi now, dude?”

Chapter Five

Allie

Yeah, Drue can be a human sledgehammer with her candor—but never have I seen her verbally KO a man like she just has Maximillian, the new Prince of the Stunned Stare. And the Surreal Stillness. And the Pale Skin. Yeah, it’s that discernible. Yeah, even through his thick morning stubble.

What about her words has gut-punched him so badly—and why are my nerves so dismantled about it? I don’t do shit like this. Dismantling is what I’ve been through already, at least a thousand times in my life. That’s what happens when one has to grow up before her parents do.

“Max?” I prod his shoulder. He barely flinches. “Max? Hey. Don’t stress. Drue’s not going to run you through the FBI database or anything.”

Drue huffs. “Not yet.”

I ignore her. I already know he is. All of us are still blank space to him. I frown as the weird dagger twists my stomach once more. The blade forged from the same instinct that struck me back at Château De Leon. The instinct that made me yearn to hold him back there.

And to stay there with him.

To have my brash, relentless marquis all to myself…for just a little while longer…

If I wasn’t so close to tears, I’d laugh at that. Me, Allie Fine, broken of believing in romance before my sixteenth birthday, is obsessed with thoughts of being locked in an ivory tower with my own carnal prince.

If only I can get that prince to acknowledge I still exist.

“Max,” I plead again. “Come on. Talk to me.”

He finally lifts his head. But at once whips his red-rimmed gaze to Drue. “You…said…”

“That I wouldn’t run an FBI background on you?” Drue sighs. “Yeah, yeah. In so many words, yes.” She holds up two fingers. “And if you’re legit, I won’t. Scout’s honor.”

“No,” Max intercedes. “What you said…before that. About it being…” He clenches his jaw. “The twenty-first century.”

“What about it?” I use the chance to lower my hand to his shirt, attempting to close it fully. While seeing this man naked again has become a priority for the day, his exposed emotion stirs a protective streak I usually brandish for Rae or Drue only. Still, the action doesn’t seem enough. Max is suddenly, noticeably…different. Pulled inside himself. Retreated to somewhere not of this time and place. And yes, I’m sure about that. I’m painfully familiar with the look. God knows how many times I’ve had to look at it on Mom’s face.

And just like all those times I witnessed it on her, my nerves pang. My heart hurts. For him and with him.

“The twenty-first century,” he croaks out at last. “By the blood of the saints. Of course.”

“Max.” So now I’m silently freaking out. With Mom’s trips to catatonia, I was always able to shut down and move on, but that feels pitifully impossible here. “What’s wrong?”