Page 17 of The Princess

Taylor let the conversation drift to more fun things. Lighter topics like fire night playlists and where Taylor’s plant obsession had come from.

Damon insisted on paying the bill, and they walked to the roller rink. Taylor was close beside Damon, and he thought of how it might feel if Damon took his hand. But the walk was short and Damon wasn’t a mind reader, apparently.

The roller rink wasn’t as loud as Taylor expected it to be, but it was definitely a time warp back to the 90s. The carpet had a weird confetti pattern to it and everything was fake wood and chrome. Even the music was retro. That part Taylor didn’t mind so much. As Taylor was growing up, his dad had an eclectic taste in music that he passed on to all of his kids. Everything from current hits to classic rock, and even some golden oldies tossed in for extra flavor.

Damon rented them each a pair of roller skates and they sat side-by-side while they stuffed their feet in the skates and tied them up.

“This place is kind of great,” Taylor told him.

“It’s all fun and games until someone breaks a wrist.”

Taylor put his hand to his chest and pretended to be worried. “Don’t jinx us, Damon. I, for one, plan to be the very best amateur roller skater there ever was.”

Taylor got to his feet and wobbled unsteadily when one of his feet rolled forward without permission. Thankfully, he didn’t fall over, but the night was young.

“I have a bad feeling about this.” Taylor laughed as he wobbled again.

Now Damon was on his feet and this time Taylor didn’t have to hope Damon would take his hand or wonder what it would be like. Damon reached out and laced his fingers together with Taylor’s.

His hand was wide and strong, and a little sweaty. But so was Taylor’s. Damon led him out to the wooden oval where other people were making slow, lazy laps going counterclockwise. There were a few people who were showing off their moves, but mostly everyone seemed to be relaxed.

Taylor stopped at the edge of the wood oval. “And you’ve never done this before?”

Damon shook his head. “Nope.”

“But you’re not half as wobbly as I am.” Taylor still felt unsteady on his feet, but Damon looked completely comfortable.

“Come on. It can’t be hard.” Damon let go of Taylor’s hand and stepped onto the skating surface. “See?” he said, sounding all proud of himself. But when he turned to face Taylor, he went down on his ass like a sack of potatoes.

Taylor stood and laughed as Damon collected himself up off the floor. “I suppose I asked karma for that one.” He straightened up and held his hand out to Taylor. “Do you trust me?”

“With this? Not even a little. But what the hell.” Taylor took Damon’s hand and tentatively stepped onto the surface.

Roller skating was a lesson in humility, Taylor found out. There were little kids who were better than he and Damon were. But he doubted anyone there had more fun than the two of them as they laughed and picked each other up off the floor. Eventually they got the hang of it, and even though they weren’t moving fast by any stretch of the imagination, they at least were able to stay on their feet.

And Damon held Taylor’s hand the whole time.

It shouldn’t mean as much as it did. It was probably the most chaste thing you could experience on a date. But Taylor had been on few dates that approached what he would call successful and no one had wanted to hold his hand. Hookups were more interested in getting their hands on other parts of his anatomy.

Would he ever admit that Damon was the first person who’d wanted to hold his hand in public? No, probably not. Not only did it make him feel pathetic, like some dumb kid who still put too much importance on silly things like romance, but it was also something he’d secretly wanted. Someone willing to be in public with him and hold his hand. And it was special, even if it made him feel foolish.

Even if Damon didn’t stay interested in him, he’d always have the memory of what it felt like to be wanted. In public. Where people could see.

They stayed for another hour, making slow circles and managing not to fall too often anymore before Damon suggested they leave. As they exited, Damon took Taylor’s hand again and they walked to Damon’s car.

“I hope you’re not too cold for ice cream,” Damon said, turning up the heat in his car.

“I’m never too cold for ice cream.” Taylor bit his lip to keep himself from saying the cheesy line about how Damon could warm him up. So far, their date had been sweet, and although there was definitely an undercurrent of sexual tension, Taylor didn’t want to rush Damon into anything.

Damon took them through a drive-thru for ice cream and then parked in the lot under one of the lights. The whole evening had been perfect, so why was he slightly disappointed? Damon had held his hand and shared his food. And it had all been so romantic that Taylor should’ve been pleased down to his bones about how things were going. Damon had been a perfect gentleman.

And that was the problem. Taylor liked that Damon was sweet and funny and kind. But he’d never been able to get that kiss out of his head. The passion that existed between him and Nash came through in the way they’d embraced each other, like there wasn’t such a thing as close enough.

Damon had kissed Nash like he was going to die without it.

And he’d held Taylor’s hand.

Damon walked Taylor to his door because, apparently, Taylor was getting the full Damon-the-gentleman treatment. Taylor dug his keys out of his pocket and unlocked the door. He turned to bid Damon a goodnight and tell him he had a good time. He’d drop a line about how they should do it again.

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