Page 71 of The Princess

“You’re both so perfect,” Taylor told them.

“We’re not perfect in general, but I do think the three of us are pretty perfect together,” Damon agreed, mostly.

“I’ll take it.”

The last thing Taylor remembered that night was pulling Damon’s arm around him, tangling his feet with Nash’s, and thinking that he might have suggested buying a bigger bed if he didn’t enjoy being so close to them.

That was perfect.

EPILOGUE

NASH

There wasn’t a lot of space for the three of them in Taylor’s shoebox of an apartment, which was why when the three of them were together, they tended to gather at Nash and Damon’s place. But Nash had to admit that there was a certain appeal about the small space. Mostly he liked that Taylor was practically always within arm’s reach.

It was a charming place, even if it was on the small side. A tiny kitchen and an only marginally larger living area made up the entire thing, except for the bathroom, of course.

“I’m not sure how you haven’t gone crazy here by now.” Nash was stretched out on Taylor’s bed, waiting for him to finish getting ready. They were going on a date, something they did a lot of. Something he and Damon hadn’t really done much of. They were happy to hang out at home for the most part. Every once in a while, they’d go somewhere that wasn’t Ethan Bennett’s back yard, but they’d never needed that sort of thing from each other.

Taylor, on the other hand, thrived under the attention of his boyfriends. Nash and Damon took turns taking him out to dinner and to the movies. It was nearly Christmas now and the cold had kept them inside a lot, but tonight there was a holiday night market that Nash knew Taylor loved. It was all he’d talked about for the past week. Nash was just happy that the cold front had finally moved on.

A crashing sound came from the bathroom and Nash sat up. Before he could ask, Taylor’s frustrated voice rang out.

“I’m fine.” Taylor sounded annoyed and agitated, and anything but fine.

“Have you ever thought of renting a bigger place for yourself?” Nash relaxed back down on the bed and tucked his hands behind his head.

“I like my little apartment. Most of the time.” A few quiet curse words reached Nash’s ears, but he chose not to comment on them.

Taylor appeared a second later looking ravishing. He was wearing the asymmetrical earrings Damon had given him a few weeks ago. The smaller earring was a stud in the shape of a crescent moon and the dangling one was a grouping of stars. Nash had thought it a bit cheesy if he was being honest, but clearly cheese was the way to Taylor’s heart because he’d gushed about them nonstop for a week.

Nash untucked his hands and pushed himself off the bed. Taking Taylor in his arms, he brushed a kiss against his mouth. Taylor wriggled in his grasp as though he were trying to get away.

“We’re going to be late,” Taylor tried to complain, but he didn’t sound overly concerned.

“We have all night,” Nash reminded him, not that it worked in his favor.

“Exactly. We have all night, so tell little Nash to calm down.”

“Little Nash?” Nash frowned. Since when did his dick have a name and why was it little Nash? It was all he could do to stop himself from looking down the front of his pants to get a glimpse and reassure himself.

Taylor beamed up at him and rose on his toes to kiss Nash’s cheek. “It’s so easy to fuck with you. I’m sorry.”

Taylor’s laugh was like music to Nash’s ears. When Taylor was happy, Nash was happy. There was something about Taylor’s joy that made the world a brighter place.

“If we’re going to name my dick, I demand at least a little creativity.” Nash grabbed Taylor’s jacket off the hook and held it for him. It was a black pea coat with a bright pink lining that Taylor had fallen in love with. According to him, he’d spent an obscene amount of money on it, but given that he lived in a shoebox with a window, he didn’t pay a lot for rent, even now that he wasn’t living at home.

“Nash Junior.” Taylor mocked him openly now, his eyes glimmering with mischief.

“Your definition of creative leaves a lot to be desired,” Nash said dryly as he slid into his own coat.

“I’m just getting warmed up. Give me a break.” Taylor buttoned his coat and grabbed his keys and his gloves, and then they were out the door.

Taylor lived nearly in the center of town now. His apartment was above a real estate office and only a block away from where the night market was set up. His stairs were steep and treacherous, but thankfully they were indoors at least. A second door led them to the street and it locked automatically behind them. Nash hadn’t enjoyed move-in day, but Taylor seemed to still be deeply in love with his tiny apartment.

They linked hands and made their way to where half the town seemed to already be gathered. Vendors lined the streets in brightly lit tents. Artisans and craftsmen from all over the place came here for the night market every year. People sold everything from crocheted dishcloths to copper jewelry.

Their first stop was the booth selling an assortment of hot drinks. Nash and Taylor both chose a hot chocolate with extra whip, avoiding the hot apple cider like the plague it was. Taylor sipped at his drink, licking a bit of the whipped topping off his lip.

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