Page 1 of The Forever Match

Chapter 1

Days Until The Royal Wedding: 14.

Princess Victoria was twerking.

The goddamn heir to the British throne was shaking her arse like she’d personally invented the dance, egged on by a wide-eyed Princess Astrid. Victoria had promised she’d perform any dare that Astrid (heir to the Swedish throne and professional chaos merchant) threw her way on Victoria and Ash’s hen do, and this was the latest in a long line of things she might regret in the morning.

So far, she and Ash had drunk a tequila shot from each other’s cleavage with no hands: easier for Ash, because at least her bride-to-be had a cleavage. Victoria had also given Ash a lap dance (Ash was still recovering), then prank-called the Swedish Embassy pretending to be the Queen, and demanded an emergency delivery of lingonberry jam to the Palace.

Victoria’s friend Dexter had footage of the night so far on his phone, which he’d sworn on his life was just for private use, never to be shared. Although he’d also tilted his head, then added, “Apart from maybe at Victoria’s coronation?”

Victoria had punched him on the arm, hard.

“How come you’re not up there dancing?” he asked Ash. “Aren’t you taking lessons for the big day?”

Ash closed her eyes, trying to block out his words. “Please don’t talk about dancing. My feet are still sore from yesterday, but not as sore as Victoria’s because I keep stepping on her feet.”

Dexter turned his head. “Trouble in Strictly paradise?”

“Let’s just say, I will not be accepting an invitation to follow in Chanelle Pickford’s shoes and be a contestant on that dancing show any time soon,” Ash replied.

He snorted, then carried on filming.

“Did you know she had this in her?” Dexter smoothed his thick Italian locks from his forehead. He was so ridiculously good-looking, Ash always expected a sparkle when he smiled, with an added ding sound. “We fake-dated for years, and she never let go like this. Or shook her hips like that.”

Ash’s mouth curled up at the edges. “I believe I might have been privy to some of Victoria’s more noteworthy hip highlights.” She laid a hand on his shoulder. “It’s not for me to brag, but maybe she just needed the right partner to pull it out of her.”

Dexter stuck up a hand. “TMI!” he screeched, and for the 134th time, Ash wondered how she never saw through the Dexter ruse. Maybe it was because Victoria actually loved him, and the feeling was mutual. It was harder to clock fake couples when they were friends.

However, as soon as she and Victoria began dating, and Dexter got comfortable around her, he’d let his natural flamboyance shine. “I don’t need to pretend to be straight anymore!” he once told her. “Halle-fucking-lujah!”

But enough about Dexter: Ash turned her attention back to Victoria. Head thrown back laughing at something Astrid had said. Lurid, if Ash knew Astrid. Thighs spread just enough, hips thrusting, buttocks shaking enough to contravene at least three royal protocols. Victoria was mesmeric, and she was nearly Ash’s other half officially. This hen do was in a private room in the Devonshire, Victoria’s preferred Mayfair hangout. Ash had voted to revisit Marbella, but Victoria only had one night free in her calendar, so Mayfair had won.

When Ash looked left, half the Lionesses were doing tequila shots at the bar, the football season having ended yesterday. The royal wedding was in two weeks’ time, and school was officially out for summer. Ash had four weeks off, and she was getting married. She intended to make the most of them.

The music changed, and Victoria hugged Astrid. They both stumbled towards Ash and Dex. Victoria’s dark hair tumbled around her shoulders, and her sapphire gaze locked onto Ash with naked intent.

The heat of Victoria’s stare rippled through Ash, flames licking through her with every sway of those hips. She readied herself to be enveloped by her fiancée, but instead, Astrid got to her first, nearly bowling her over.

“I don’t know what you did to Victoria this morning, but please do it again. She’s hilarious tonight!” Astrid shrieked into Ash’s ear.

Next to her, Victoria’s smile was wonky. The tequila had clearly struck.

“Great twerking, Vic!” Dexter told her, kissing Victoria’s cheek. “I think you should do that up the aisle for your wedding. Fuck the wedding march, right? Let’s have some Lady Gaga, and you twerking, loud and proud.”

Victoria gave him a smile, then did an adorable hiccup. Closely followed by another one. Uh-oh.

“I could show them, couldn’t I?” She clenched a fist by her head. “The Church of England – that I will one day be the head of – won’t let us marry in a church. I say, let’s overthrow all the royal wedding traditions. I’ll have drag queens for bridesmaids, and drag kings for ushers.” She draped an arm around Astrid. “You wouldn’t mind, would you? You’re bumped off the bridesmaid list, and we’ll hire the whole of Drag Race UK.”

Astrid threw her head back and laughed like a drain. “Bump me off, baby! I want to see those queers in heels click-clacking down the aisle, while royalty from every country in the world looks on in horror.”

Now, Dexter really did snort. “Oh purlease! That lot? And all the dignitaries and politicians? You can’t tell me they all haven’t been to a gay club or a drag show in their lives. Some of them multiple times. Especially the god-fearing ones. They’d all be tapping their feet and itching to get up and dance.”

He had a point.

“It’s decided, then.” Victoria hiccupped again, then looked confused, like she didn’t recall doing it ever before. “Drag queens and kings are in. I’ll tell my mother in the morning. It’s my wedding after all, isn’t it? She can’t decide everything!”

Ash gave her a tiny shake of the head. If only that were true. She reached out and took Victoria’s hand in hers.