Page 36 of Broken Prince

“One Tree Hill.” I settled back on my bed, my back against the headboard.

“Any good?”

“I’m only on episode three so far… Lots of teenage drama brewing.”

He nodded. “Ah, teenage drama…the best.”

I chuckled, then extended the bowl of popcorn toward him in a silent invitation for him to stay and watch.

After an episode I saw him twist and wince in the chair; it was a small, narrow one. It was comfortable for my five-one frame, but certainly not for his six-four frame.

I slid to the side and patted the space beside me.

“It’s more comfortable here.”

He raised his eyebrows in surprise as I realized how this may have come across. God, I sounded like a sleazy man making his approach.

“No. I just mean it in a friendly way. It’s just—” I felt my cheeks burn under the crushing weight of my discomfort. “I’m not good at this. I-” I shook my head.Shut the fuck up, Cassie! You’re a stupid girl who invited a grown-ass Mafia guy to be on your bed with you; what did you expect?

I took a deep breath. “You don’t want to date me, do you?”

“God, no!” He let out with a recoil like the thought itself was repulsive.

Well, it didn’t matter that I felt the same; his extreme rejection stung.

“Okay then, so no harm done, right?”

He looked at me silently for a few seconds, as if he was trying to decipher something before nodding.

He removed his jacket, toed off his black dress shoes, and joined me on top of the bed before reaching for the popcorn bowl and resting it on his lap.

“You know, for what it’s worth, even if I wanted to date you or sleep with you—heaven forbid.”

Okay, jab number two. “Yeah?”

He shook his head. “My feelings or intentions shouldn’t matter. This invitation, right here, doesn’t give me any right on you. Do you understand?”

I looked up at his face, startled by the intensity of his words. He was looking down at me, his body tense, his brows slightly furrowed with determination, his dark eyes shining with a righteous fire that I didn’t expect in this situation.

“Okay?”

“No matter what you might say or do—consciously or not, it never gives a man any right on you or your body. You need to remember that, always.”

The intensity of his words made me shiver. Had he witnessed things? No, I didn’t want to think about that. “I know.”

He let out a breath. “Great. Now that’s settled. Let’s see what teenage drama we’re dealing with.”

I nodded, still a little unsettled by his serious speech and the force of his rejection.

“Are you gay?” I asked halfway through the episode. I gasped at my own remark as he choked on his popcorn. I just thought it and—I winced. I needed to get my mouth in check. They were not just anyone, and frankly that was not okay.

“Excuse me?” he asked, his voice raspy after the coughing fit he just had.

“Never mind.” I waved my hand dismissively. “Let's watch the show.”

“I am not gay,” he replied a little while later.

“It wouldn’t matter if you were,” I replied honestly, still too embarrassed about my question to look up at him.

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