Page 5 of The Princess

God, this man was such a people pleaser. He couldn’t stand it when people were upset with him, which didn’t prevent Nash from feeling that way when he had a genuine reason—like tonight.

“I’m not mad anymore. I was mad, but you explained your actions. You can’t ignore Taylor like that, though. I think you really hurt him tonight.”

Damon groaned and melted into Nash’s embrace. Damon mumbled something into Nash’s shoulder, but he couldn’t quite make it out.

“What was that?”

“He’s never going to forgive me.” Damon sounded forlorn and it made Nash’s heart soft for him. Damon never wanted to hurt anyone. The sooner he sorted things out with Taylor, the better.

“I think you’re dramatic. He’s hurt, but he’ll forgive you. Even if you did act like an ass.”

“I tried not to, but he’s this fucking instant erection machine. All I have to do is look at him and I get hard. Do you know how many old people I had to picture naked tonight?”

Nash barked out a laugh and tugged Damon into his bedroom. Slowly, he stripped Damon of his shirt.

“So I like him. Now what?” Damon looked at Nash like he held all the answers. Which was ridiculous because he was flying just as blind as Damon was.

“Now you text him and tell him how nice he looked and that you’re sorry you were an asshole, and you tell him to have a nice sleep.”

“Won’t that be…weird?” Damon asked, flicking the button of his jeans open.

“No weirder than being a dickwad because you can’t deal with your own inconvenient boners.”

“I suppose that’s fair.” Damon tried to reach for Nash, but he stepped back. “What, you want me to text him now?”

Nash folded his arms over his chest. “You’ll feel better if you do.”

“God, fine.” Damon yanked his phone out of his pocket and sat down on the edge of Nash’s bed. He fired off a text and the moment he hit send, some of the tension in his shoulders fell away.

“It might take more than a text to make him feel better. He looked pretty hurt.”

Damon sighed and stared at his phone, waiting for a response. “I know.”

CHAPTER 3

DAMON

Nash plucked the phone from Damon’s hands and set it out of reach on the dresser. He hadn’t meant to make Taylor feel bad, and even when he realized that he’d hurt him, he didn’t know what to say, or how to say it, to fix things. A lame apology text didn’t seem like it was good enough. He’d have to do better.

Damon hated that everything felt so complicated all of the sudden. Things with Nash had started out easy. Friends with benefits. No strings. No commitments. The only rule was honesty if they took someone else to bed, and safety was paramount. But when they’d entered into the agreement, there hadn’t been anyone else Damon was interested in enough to bother looking twice at.

He wasn’t even sure now how things had started with Nash. They were friends, and then they were more, and it was that easy for them.

“Get in bed, Damon,” Nash said. Damon lifted his gaze and looked at Nash. He had the whole boy-next-door vibe going on, with his soft smiles and his naturally friendly personality. If Damon could bring a guy home to his parents, it would be this one.

Damon peeled his clothes off and climbed into Nash’s bed. He watched Nash undress, admiring the body he knew almost as well as his own. Because Nash worked out with Colby at least once a week, he had more muscle than he used to, but because he still ate whatever he wanted, it was covered in a layer of softness that Damon loved.

When Nash got in next to him, Damon rolled over and went in for a kiss, and Nash indulged him. Damon needed to not be thinking right now. Or maybe ever. Thinking was overrated.

Nash’s mouth still tasted somehow of marshmallow and chocolate. They should’ve brushed their teeth before bed because now Damon was thinking of Taylor again and wondering how his lips would taste.

He pulled away with a groan and flopped onto his back.

Nash, unfazed as always, propped himself up on his elbow. Lifting his hand, he dragged a fingertip down the slope of Damon’s nose.

Damon cut his gaze over to Nash. “I’m not a cat.”

“I know you’re not a cat. You’re a boy with a crush in one hand and regret in the other.”

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