When Mila finds out she's pregnant from a one-night stand with a reluctant prince, she is thrust into a fake romance with him; are her feelings that grow for him genuine or for his way of life that ensures her baby stability?|| Down-on-her-luck Mila...
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─── ♔♔♔ ───
Freedom is the pulsating bass, the thrum of alcohol, flashing lights, and the feel of those green eyes boring into my frame as it gyrates against this tall, muscular God-like form as he joins me back from the bar.
Freedom is control. Control is freeing.
Freedom is what you make it, after all.
"Is that him? The one staring at us with the black shirt?" Lucas' husky voice whispers in my ear. Despite the pounding bass and heavy singing that fills my ears, every time he whispers in my ear, it becomes the only thing I can hear. He's doing it on purpose, so Brayden can stare at us and get jealous, and so far it's working.
Lucas passes me a second drink as the song starts its descent towards the end.
"Yeah, that's him." I sip the double vodka and coke — my second and last drink. The alcohol is never the reason I come clubbing and dancing, anyway; for me, it's the freedom and control that intertwine like pieces of rope.
Lucas runs a hand through his hair before leaning down and pressing a kiss on my temple.
Shudders run down my spine, forcing it to arch.
What I wouldn't give to have those lips on mine.
I mentally slap myself. No, Mila, this isn't the plan. The plan is to make Brayden jealous and make him want you back, not find someone new.
The song ends, and another one immediately starts; a remix of an old Eighties song that my mum played on our cassette player while she did the housework in our council flat.
My head shakes as I sip my drink up and let loose. Lucas' left hand wraps around my bare waist where this deep blue dress has a cut-out middle, and starts dancing against me.
The dizzying heat is making the air thick with sweat with the sheer amount of bodies plus being underground in this club, plus the lights and lack of fresh air, yet the way there are two sets of eyes on mine makes it seem like there are three of us in this room with nothing and no one else.
I lift my eyes and dare to meet Brayden's across the dancefloor as his date has her arms wrapped around him, a drunk limp coming from her. She's the very opposite of me: she's blonde, massive chest, skinny and very girly. I'm brunette, mid-sized chest and chunky, and so not girly.
