Page 1 of The Princess

CHAPTER 1

TAYLOR

Nash and Damon’s secret love affair was actually the worst-kept secret on the face of the earth. Taylor was pretty sure the only person who was actually clueless about it was Jonah. Taylor didn’t know when it started or how serious it was, but he did know what it looked like when Damon kissed Nash. He’d never get the image out of his head of Damon glancing around to make sure the coast was clear—it wasn’t—and then his hands on Nash, pulling him in. He knew what it looked like when the kiss ended and Nash gazed at Damon like he was the only thing on the planet worth looking at.

From where Taylor sat, it appeared pretty serious. Serious enough that for the past few months, as far as Taylor was aware, they stole every moment together that they could. Why they didn’t tell anyone about it was the only thing he couldn’t figure out.

Well, whatever reason it was, it was theirs. As was their secret. Taylor had never let anyone know about the kiss he’d seen. He kept that little nugget of information to himself. And if it broke his heart to see everyone else so easily find love when Taylor couldn’t, that was okay too.

He was still young, after all, was what most people would say. And it was true. He was only twenty-two. A lot of people his age weren’t thinking about forever. But some people his age were on the other side of the college experience, heading into the real world for the first time, a place Taylor had always inhabited.

Taylor didn’t even remember his mom. His brothers had helped their dad raise him and it was a good life. Most people might not get why Taylor still liked living in the basement of his childhood home or why he wanted to work at the diner. And that was okay. They didn’t have to understand him.

But it would be nice if someone did. If he had that special person whom he could curl up with and simply exist. More than hot dates and nights of drinking and random sex, all of which Taylor had done. He wanted the quiet parts of loving someone.

It was a pipe dream.

No one wanted a plant-obsessed guy in makeup and earrings who still worked with his dad, who still lived with his dad—sort of. The house had a basement suite and when they were kids their dad had rented it out, usually to harmless old ladies. The quiet, grandmotherly types. Then Jonah went to college, and Colby ended up managing a gym and moving across town, and Taylor had taken over the basement suite.

Sure, Taylor could probably move out, but he’d be crazy to. The rent he paid was a fraction of what he’d have to pay elsewhere. And he lived close to work. Besides, other people might want to be far away from their family, and for good reason in some cases, but Taylor had never felt that way about his. It had been a weird kind of hell when Jonah went off to college. Even though Jonah was the quiet one, it was quieter without him around. Nothing had been the same.

Even fire nights had been quieter. But they were back to normal now. Normal, but better, because Jonah brought Spencer and Colby brought Milo, and Nash and Damon were usually always there.

Taylor glanced at the clock and if he did a happy little shimmy because it was almost time for everyone to show up, no one but his plants would know, and although they were nice to have around, they weren’t exactly big conversationalists. They were increasing in number again and soon Taylor was going to have to offload one or two somewhere.

He’d already plant-bombed Jonah’s classroom and Colby’s apartment. The diner and the upstairs had been almost too easy, Taylor thought as he checked on his plants before slipping into his room to get ready.

It wasn’t like he had anyone to get ready for, but he still liked the ritual of changing into the perfect outfit. The weather was turning colder, so tonight his outfit was a pair of skinny jeans and a shirt that was just on the obscene side of tight and low cut, with an oversized sweater that was soft as a cloud and could only be described as baby pink.

Dangly earrings had become his favorite indulgence lately, when not at work, and he put in a pair of silver ones. They were simple enough, a thin chain attached to the post of the earring with a pearl at the other end. He added a touch of lip gloss and a bit of mascara because he liked how he looked with it before going upstairs.

He was usually the only one who used the connecting door between the upper floor and the basement, and he popped out into the kitchen where his dad was.

“Hey, kid. You look nice.”

“Thanks. Do you need any help?” Taylor took a seat at the counter. His dad always had been quick to compliment his kids, but when Taylor had started dressing differently, his dad had noticeably turned it up a notch. Now, even when Taylor wasn’t wearing makeup or anything, when he looked like he’d looked on any other day, his dad made a point to tell him that he looked nice. It was sweet.

“I think I have everything under control. It’s supposed to be chilly later, so maybe you could take the blankets out of the laundry closet.”

Fire nights happened all year. Rain or shine or snow or sleet. They were like the postal service, only stopping for natural disasters. Well, rain tended to put a damper on fire nights, but they tried to plan around the weather the best they could. And on the nights when they couldn’t be outside, they brought the party into the living room.

There was an electric fireplace in the room now, set up below the television. It was one of those cheap ones you get at Walmart that plug into an outlet. They’d all sit around in the living room on couches and the floor, Dad would sit by the fire and play guitar, and it was almost as good as a proper fire night.

In some ways, it was cozier. More intimate because everyone was forced into a smaller space. Taylor silently prayed for rain as he checked on the blanket supply.

“Everything is good to go,” he told his dad when he returned to the kitchen. “What’s on the menu tonight?”

“Food.”

Taylor rolled his eyes. “So hilarious. You’re such a dad sometimes.”

“Thanks, kid.”

“That wasn’t a compliment,” Taylor teased.

“We’re having barbeque chicken, corn, and potatoes.”

“S’mores?”

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