Page 67 of How to Date a Prince

“Actually, yes, it is. I’m next in line to inherit the throne. Which feels far closer than I want to think about.”

“That’s not my fault,” Thomas says defensively. “Auggie, be reasonable.”

“I’m not being unreasonable.” My jaw lifts. “I should have known. I knew this was a bad idea in the first place?—”

“I care about you, Auggie. More than you know. I wanted to protect you. Not everything is about you either?—”

“What’s it about, then?” I ask impatiently.

“My family. My father. He has to come first.” Thomas stares me down.

My shoulders tighten. “As does mine,” I say softly. “There are expectations of me?—”

“Don’t you believe in free will and democracy?” Thomas runs a hand roughly through his hair, his voice rising. “This isn’t Throwback Thursday to medieval times. Even if we are on a show calledRenaissance Man. Who do you think you are—King Arthur?”

“Oh. My. God.” I hold my face in my hands as it burns, staring at Thomas. “This is a ridiculous situation.”

Thomas looks wounded. “You should do what you want?—”

“I can’t! That’s the whole point!” I erupt at last. “There’s service and duty and society. And community. And yes, there’s tradition that’s sometimes a chokehold, but it’s also part of being something much greater than me. And can do a lot of good for many people.”

We stare at each other until my eyes flood. I turn away. “Fuck.” Roughly, I wipe at my eyes with the cuff of my robe. “This is impossible.”

“Hey.” Thomas’ voice is soft. “I want you, remember?”

“How can I be your lover when we have our real lives to live, Thomas? This situation has a very short shelf life.”

“I don’t want to give you up,” Thomas says curtly. “But it’s fucking a lot to have you running hot and cold every five minutes.”

I turn at last to stare hard at him. His familiar features, those green eyes I love so much, which see far more than I should have revealed. “We’re over when this show is over. This is just sex now—and we need rules.”

“What rules?”

“No weekend contact. Only when we’re filming.”

“Okay.”

“And when the show wraps or one of us gets kicked off, that’s it. No more. Everything remains a secret, before and after.”

“Mm, added incentive to win.” Thomas grins up at me. My breath catches at the sight of him. I’m already getting hard again, all the raw emotion surging through me. “All the more time together.”

“You’ve got a lot of faith in #TeamAuggie, I see.”

“After last week? I have my competition cut out?—”

“Too much talking. More sucking,” I command.

“Bossy.” And he obliges. Till I can’t manage any more words for some time, and I draw him over to the bed.

“Strip,” I say.

Thomas strips. I run my hand over the landscape of his body.

His gaze softens, a vulnerability in his eyes. “You know I’ll miss you when this is over.”

I don’t trust myself to say anything. Instead, I kiss him hard, our mouths crushed together as our hands find each other, and my heart thunders as it leaps far too close to something like feelings, want, and desire crashing into each other.

Then, I let my dressing gown fall to the floor. And I pull him on top of me onto the bed.

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