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Prince

Page 11

by Cambria Hebert


  “Obviously not, because Fletch is still asleep,” he quipped, tipping the bottle against his lips as though he’d made some kind of epic statement.

  “Well, after living with you for so long, he’s probably used to sleeping through anything,” I muttered.

  Neo laughed under his breath and looked up. “I admit I’m curious, so you can ask, but I might not answer.”

  “Fair enough.”

  As he crossed his arms over his chest, a look of expectation came over his features.

  “Earlier when we were eating,” I began, glancing toward the couch to make sure Fletch was still sleeping, “he had some kind of episode.”

  Dark brows furrowed low, and Neo frowned. “An episode?”

  “He spilled some food on his shirt, and his reaction was…” I paused, searching for the right word. “Basically, he panicked, skittered away from me, apologizing. When I moved closer, he flinched.”

  Neo’s upper lip curled. “Did you touch him?”

  “Obviously not,” I said, holding on to my patience. “He was clearly afraid. I wouldn’t do anything to make it worse.”

  “Then why was he afraid?” he asked suspiciously.

  “That’s what I’m asking you. Why would spilling something make him panic like that? He didn’t even react that way when he got arrested.”

  Neo went quiet for a moment, obviously turning inward. “He must have gone to see her,” he surmised, his voice quiet as if he were speaking to himself.

  “Her?” I inquired.

  He looked up, suddenly guarded. He wasn’t going to answer.

  “Earth said a name earlier.” I thought back. “Milly. Is that who you are talking about?”

  His eyes flared, and even if he denied it, I would know I was right.

  “What did Earth say exactly?” Neo questioned.

  “Nothing really. He was angry Fletcher didn’t have any money and had to steal food. He seemed to think it was her fault.”

  Nodding, he sighed deeply, rubbing a palm over his face. “Yeah, then that’s what it was about.”

  “Could you explain, please?”

  Neo looked up, his expression grim and secretive.

  “Please,” I implored. He winced at me, and my heart still aches.

  “Fletcher’s had a rough life. He came from a shitty place and endured a lot. When I found him…” Neo’s lips smacked together, and his gaze slid away.

  “When you found him?” I pressed.

  “Look. Bottom line is he knows how to endure, but his endurance has a price. He’s gotten a lot better since he moved in with us, but there are still times when everything he’s been through causes a reaction. He had a rough day, probably got yelled at repeatedly, and was at his limit.”

  I digested the words, trying to make sense of it, wanting so much to understand but finding it difficult when I was only given half the picture.

  “He’s wearing your clothes, right?”

  I nodded. “He took a shower. He’d been sitting in a cell all day. And all he had on was a T-shirt.”

  “He probably thought you were going to blow your lid when he ruined something fancy of yours.”

  Offended, my shoulder blades came together, and I stood stiffly. “I would never.”

  Holding up his hand, he waved off my insult. “I know. But he’s been on the receiving end one too many times. Usually, he’s good at keeping chill, but as I said, he was at his limit.”

  Reading between the lines, hearing the words that Neo didn’t say, a dark, menacing emotion welled up, turning my voice low and ominous. “Are you telling me that someone has hit him?”

  “Look, if you want details, that’s for him to say. I’m just letting you know that sometimes he gets… skittish. And I’m also saying that’s why you should keep your hands to yourself.”

  “I wouldn’t do anything to hurt him.”

  “Maybe not intentionally, but Fletcher is… He’s not as hard as the rest of us misfits. That’s why we’re so protective. That’s why I’m asking you to back off.”

  I wondered what Neo would think if he realized that his “warning” just made me more determined to stay close.

  I shook my head. “I can’t do that.”

  He stood again, this time quietly, stepping around the island to meet my gaze. “I could make you.”

  “You could try. But it won’t be like with Ivory. I stepped out of the way willingly, but with Fletcher, I’ll fight.”

  Neo snorted, taking another threatening step closer as jealousy boiled his stare. “You think I’m with Ivory because you allowed it?”

  I didn’t move back, and I didn’t break eye contact. “I think Ivory is with you because she loves you. She never loved me, and I never loved her. Not like that anyway.”

  Grunting, he relaxed his stance a bit, but I knew he was still on guard. “Because you’re gay,” he stated, tossing it out like he wanted to shock me.

  I smiled instead. “If you thought you could shock me, I’m sorry to say you’re about a decade too late for that.”

  Surprise lit up his eyes. “You’ve known you’re gay for that long?”

  “Give or take.”

  “But you date women.”

  “I dated Ivory.” I corrected. “Or rather, everyone thought I did.”

  “So you’re in the closet,” he deadpanned.

  “Clothes belong in a closet. Not people.”

  He nodded. “You’re hiding who you really are.”

  I considered his words, then countered with my own. “Not really. I just don’t advertise I like men.”

  “I won’t let you make Fletch your dirty little secret.”

  Since I was taller than Neo, I leaned in, getting right into his face. “I’m getting really tired of you implying Fletcher isn’t better than that.”

  His eyes widened. “That’s not—”

  “Then stop saying it,” I snapped.

  “So what? You gonna start showing up at Upper East Side events with him on your arm? You think that’s gonna fly here, rich boy?”

  “I don’t know. How was it for you when you started showing up on Ivory’s arm?” I snapped.

  Neo’s lips pursed. “That’s different.”

  I arched an eyebrow. “Yeah? How?”

  “Well, for one thing, Ivory doesn’t have a father who would need CPR if he found out the son he wants to marry off to some rich heiress really likes men.”

  “You son of a bitch,” I growled, fists knotting at my sides.

  “Tell me I’m wrong,” he practically sang. He was such an irritating shit.

  But he’s also right.

  Shoulders drooping, I spun away, stalking toward the other end of the island.

  A pregnant silence crowded the kitchen, settling into an awkward hush.

  Neo broke it first, sighing deeply. “Look, I know you’re a good guy, not the rich douchebag I thought you were when we first met.”

  “How flattering,” I muttered.

  “And I’m sorry for giving you such a hard time. If it was anyone else, I wouldn’t be like this. But it’s Fletcher. He’s like my baby brother.”

  “I don’t have it all figured out,” I admitted. “And I know it’s complicated. But that doesn’t change how I feel.”

  It seemed we were at some sort of impasse, and both of us knew it.

  “We should be going,” Neo said finally, spinning toward the living room.

  “Just leave him,” I said, the words ripping out of me almost desperately.

  I wasn’t used to the unsettled, almost afraid feelings clamoring around inside me. All I knew was that I didn’t want him out of my sight.

  “Let him sleep. I’ll bring him over in the morning.”

  Neo hadn’t turned around, but he was listening. I knew.

  “If he’s not there first thing tomorrow, I’m coming back.” He relented, starting forward again. His footsteps echoed through the foyer, and the quiet opening and closing of the door rang with finality.


  I let out a breath I didn’t realize I’d been holding, my lungs squeezing with relief. Going back into the living room, I stared down at the sleeping puppy buried beneath a blanket on my sofa.

  Reaching up, I rubbed my palm against the soreness in my chest, trying to loosen the ache.

  Neo had a right to be concerned, pointing out things I’d yet to consider. I was too blinded by the way he made me feel, too busy falling until it was too late.

  There seemed to be a lot stacked against us.

  Stuff I didn’t even know.

  I should have let Neo take him out of here. Maybe it would have been better that way.

  Even the thought made the ache in my chest turn into distinct pain, and everything inside me rebelled.

  Reaching down, I carefully slid my arms under his curled-up frame, lifting him. The second I cradled him against my chest, he let out a small purr and cuddled his cheek against my shoulder.

  The worst of the panic subsided, and my heart swelled with love.

  Carrying him up the stairs to bed, I felt his breath against my neck and the rightness at having him in my arms.

  Sure, there were a lot of reasons to back off. But none of those reasons came close to how he made me feel, and selfishly, I wanted to know if I made him feel the same. If I didn’t, I would let him go.

  But if he did?

  I would hold on tight.

  12

  Fletcher

  * * *

  My eyes were barely open when memory rippled through me. Gasping, I sat up, the covers falling to my waist as I slapped a hand over my mouth.

  He kissed me.

  He kissed me like a lot.

  Still hazy from sleep, I sat there, fingers pressed against my no-longer-virgin lips. The replay of last night held me in that heavy-eyed state.

  Pouty lips gliding against mine, warmth coursing through my veins, and being completely surrounded in the best way.

  It was as if he cast a spell on me, putting me in some kind of enchanted state.

  “Ah!” my exclamation echoed around the large room… a room I was not familiar with.

  Eyes wide, I stared around the dimly lit space, wondering where the hell I was. I didn’t remember going to bed last night, or leaving…

  “Ah!” Was I still at Ethan’s?

  Oh my God… was this his bed?

  Chest pounding, I stared down at the massive mattress. The bedding was sleek and soft. The navy sheets felt like silk, and the massive comforter was made of the same material, which had a sheen that would probably sparkle in the light.

  No way this is his bed.

  Thinking fast, I rolled, face planting into one of the many satin-covered, cloudlike pillows to inhale deep.

  It smelled like Christmas.

  Oh shit!

  Bolting upright, grasping the sheet, I held it against my chest as I tried to remember what else happened last night. We just kissed… right?

  Right!?

  Squeezing my eyes closed and peeling the blankets away from my body, I took a steadying breath and then squinted one eye, glancing, you know… down below.

  I had on pants. The same pants I’d put on after my shower yesterday.

  But my shirt is different!

  No. Wait. This was the T-shirt I put on after my shower, but the hoodie I’d been wearing over it was gone.

  Breathing out a massive sigh of relief, I fell back, the pillows cushioning my fall. He must have just brought me in here because I fell asleep on him.

  I grabbed another pillow and held it over my face to groan. He’d kissed me, and I fell asleep—in his lap.

  Well, it’s his fault for being so comfortable!

  Why did the bed smell like him? Was this his room? Did he sleep here too? Surely, a house this big would have more than one bedroom. This was probably just a guest room, and of course the sheets smelled like him. This was his house.

  Noise across the room had me freaking, springing back up in a sitting position. I gripped the pillow previously suffocating my face and held it like a shield as the bedroom door swung in.

  A little bit of light came in with the open door, but I couldn’t notice that. All I noticed was the man strolling in like he owned the place.

  Well, fine, he did own it, but I was in here!

  “Ah, you’re awake,” Ethan said, pausing just inside the room.

  My mouth ran dry. I blinked. Blinked again.

  “Where were you?” I blurted, finally finding words. But why did they have to be those words?

  Surprise rolled across his square-jawed face, and then a small smile curled the corners of his lips. “Why, were you scared without me here?”

  Squeezing the pillow tighter into my chest, I rolled my eyes. “I’m not five. Why would I be scared?”

  “So you missed me, then.” He surmised, chuckling lightly under his breath.

  Goose bumps rose along my arms, and awareness tingled my scalp. Oh, I was never like this until you kissed me.

  The combination of that husky, low chuckle and the fact that he was like half naked and wet… I might be innocent, but I wasn’t oblivious, and I definitely was not immune.

  “Why do you look like that?” I asked, eyes raking over his incredibly toned arms.

  Glancing down at himself, Ethan made a sound. “Oh, this.” He gestured to the tank top clinging to his chest because it was so wet. A pair of black shorts covered his lower half, finished with a dark pair of socks and black sneakers.

  Palming the end of the white towel slung around his neck, he began patting off some of the sheen from his neck and face. “I was working out.”

  I gulped. “You mean I was here alone?”

  Another one of his small smiles played on his lips as he came closer to the bed. “Of course not. I have a home gym. My trainer comes here in the mornings.”

  I couldn’t even properly process the fact that he had a home gym and a trainer because I was too busy being incredibly distracted by his wide chest and well-defined shoulders.

  The way the damp cotton clung between his pecs, the fascinating rivulet of sweat trailing down the hollow of his throat, down, down to disappear beneath the neckline of the white tank.

  It was obvious he was in good shape from the very first time I saw him on television and when my hands clung to him last night when we kissed.

  But I didn’t know he was this… godlike.

  I didn’t even know people looked like this in real life.

  “You look like an Avenger,” I whispered, not really meaning to speak out loud.

  His teeth flashed bright white, clear amusement on his face. “You think so?”

  My head bobbed. “You must work out a lot.”

  “I get up early and work out every morning before work.”

  My arms looked like spaghetti noodles compared to his.

  “So?” he asked, a little hesitation in his voice. Ethan really wasn’t much of a hesitator, so it made me curious as to what he would say. “You like the Avengers?”

  I made a sound. “Of course! Who doesn’t? They’re cool.”

  “Ah, that explains the Spider-Man statue.” Ethan surmised.

  “Well, technically, Spider-Man is not an Avenger. He turned them down even though they asked him. Spider-Man likes to work alone.”

  “I see.” Ethan indulged me, smiling down at me once more.

  Why does he have to smile like that? Now my stomach feels weird again.

  “Here, thought you might need this,” he said, holding out a mug I hadn’t even noticed.

  You try noticing a mug when all that is on display.

  “What is it?” I asked, leaning up to try and see inside.

  Lowering his arm, he showed me the coffee. It was much darker than I usually drank it. I liked extra creamer, the flavored kind. Earth said real men didn’t need creamer, but he also said I was the exception.

  “Do you drink coffee?”

  “You brought me that?” I was surprised.

 
He nodded. “Of course. I’ll have some after I shower.”

  “But… I can drink it in this bed?” I asked, glancing again at the massive and very expensive bed.

  “Of course.” He gestured for me to take it, turning the entire cup around, gripping the walls of the mug to offer me the handle. “Be careful.” He warned gently when I reached out. “It’s hot.”

  No one had ever brought me coffee in bed before. Well, technically, I didn’t even have a bed. I slept on the couch at home. But I didn’t mind because it was comfortable.

  Well, sometimes I slept on an air mattress with Neo… but I wasn’t sure that counted as a bed either.

  “Thank you,” I said sincerely, pulling the mug close to my chest.

  “I added some cream and sugar. I wasn’t sure how you liked it, though,” Ethan told me, moving across the room. The way his shoulders and back muscles rippled was a total eyecatcher.

  Grabbing a small remote nearby, he pressed a button, and the wall of dark curtains started to slowly slide open.

  Morning light filtered in, chasing away the dimness and giving definition to everything around me.

  The navy sheets definitely had a glossy sheen, and the massive headboard behind me was padded and soft but made with some sort of silver fabric that made it look sleek.

  The walls were painted gray, and across the opposite side of the room was a wall of different artwork that made me feel like I was in a gallery.

  Neo would like this.

  “I’m going to shower. You can watch the view and drink your coffee.”

  His voice brought me around to the view he’d just revealed. My mouth fell open. “Whoa,” I sang in awe. “It’s like looking out over a kingdom.”

  “Coffee okay?” Ethan asked, still dabbing his face with the towel.

  I lifted it, swallowing down some of the rich brew. My eye twitched lightly, and I forced myself to not make a face.

  Not enough creamer. Not enough creamer.

  But I wouldn’t say that. Not when he’d made it for me and let me drink it in bed with a kingdom as my view!

  “It’s good. Thank you,” I said after clearing my throat.

  “You sure?”

  My nod was enthusiastic.

  “I’ll be out shortly,” he said, heading toward the bathroom.

 

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