Page 26 of The Holiday Disaster

A decade later, he let out a sigh and brought my hand up to kiss the back of it. He enjoyed giving me little pecks, and damn if my heart didn’t go crazy every time he did that.

I stiffened, gulping in deep breaths as I willed my heart to calm down. Seeing this, Kingsley finally let out a chuckle and returned to his normal self. And thankfully, he chose to ignore the fact that I’d completely dodged his questions.

“Me? You know I’ve been dating since middle school.”

Of course I knew that. I wasn’t blind. I had to watch all the different girls be in his arms wishing that they were me. Never mind the fact that I was reminded of his ex every time I passed his prom night photo when I went to hang out with Valerie.

I swallowed my jealousy since it was all in the past and I couldn’t change it. What I had to focus on was thatIwas currently the one in his arms.

At least for now.

“What I meant was, when did you start dating men? I never knew you were bi.” It worked out for me since this meant I was able to have this weekend with him, but it also meant that I now had twice the competition.

He studied me again, and I didn’t know what answers he found in my face, but his smile relaxed even more. “I think I’ve always been bi, but I just never explored that side of myself until college.” He stroked the back of my hand with his thumb and had a soft expression on his face as he gazed at me. “Do you remember the first thing I said to you when we met?”

“How could I not?” I grumbled. I wanted to pull my hand back to cross my arms over my body and shield myself from the hurt his words had caused me. “You made it clear from the very start that you hated me. Even the nine-year-old me understood that.”

“Wait, what are you talking about?” Kingsley asked, his eyebrows raised almost to his hairline.

I tilted my head, equally confused. “You called me a princess…” I started. There was no way I had remembered incorrectly. No one but myself knew how deeply hurt I was by those words, especially by the beautiful boy who had moved in next door.

“Those weren’t my exact words, but I did say that. Why would that make you think I hated you?”

“Because I’m a guy. Being called a princess was what other people used to insult me, to say that I’m too feminine.” I hung my head as past emotions came rushing forward.

Mom was disappointed that I wasn’t a girl since she already had my brother. So when I was younger, she would dress me up in all the girl’s clothes she had bought when she first got pregnant and before they had found out my gender. It didn’t help that the clothes seemed to have been tailor-made for me, nor that with my large eyes and long lashes, I was mistaken for a girl nine times out of ten as a child.

Perhaps the complex had always stayed in the back of my mind even long after Mom had stopped dressing me in frilly dresses, but being called a princess by Kingsley was the first time I’d had my heart broken.

The scrape of a chair had me looking up again. Kingsley didn’t let go of my hand as he stood and then knelt in front of me. I glanced around the room to see people curiously looking over to us.

“What are you doing? Get up from there,” I whispered as I tugged on his hand, but he refused to budge. My eyes flicked to our surroundings as murmurs grew louder around us. Someone even asked if I was being proposed to, which made me want to dig a hole and bury myself into it.

“Babe, I’m sorry I hurt you. That wasn’t my intention, and I’m willing to do whatever you want to apologize for my insensitive words back then,” he said, completely ignoring all the stares we were attracting. “Will you forgive me?”

“Say yes!” a woman’s voice yelled from our right.

Dear lord, kill me now.

“I will if you hurry up and get off the ground.” I was now tugging harder at Kingsley’s arm. “People are staring,” I hissed.

Kingsley finally stood up, looked around, and gave a few dazed blinks as if he hadn’t noticed the gazes until now. “All right, show’s over,” he said, waving them off. He grabbed his chair and slid it next to mine. His large body blocked me from the other people’s view, which I was extremely thankful for.

“My words were, ‘You’re so pretty. Are you my princess?’” he said as he clasped my hands on his lap.

It was my turn to blink at him in confusion.

“That’s the first thing I said to you,” he explained when I stayed silent.

I definitely didn’t remember that, but I was also nine, and the memory of being hurt kinda overshadowed everything else.

“You still called me a princess,” I grumbled.

Kingsley raised a hand to stroke my cheek before leaning in to kiss my pout away. “It doesn’t excuse the hurt I caused you, but I was taught that the prince would end up with the pretty princess, and the adults around me always told me that I’d find my own princess one day.”

He paused and let out a bitter chuckle. “Looking back at it now, that was such a heteronormative thing to teach a child.” He blew out a breath and shook his head before continuing. “Anyway, what I’m trying to say is that the first time I saw you, I thought you were the prettiest person I’d ever met. I wasn’t even thinking of gender. I thought that I'd found my very own princess.”

My mouth hung open with no words coming out. What the hell was I supposed to say to that? And did he mean what I thought he meant? The room went deadly silent with the sound of blood rushing in my ears.

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