Page 69 of Prince Charmless
If my brain were a computer, it’d come up with an error message. “Huh?” is the sound that comes out of me.
“Oh, don’t act like you don’t know. You’re a young royal. Your whole job is standing still and looking hot.”
“Hey,” I snap. “I do other things sometimes.” And sometimes I catch myself wondering if I could be replaced by a shiny rock with googly eyes.
It’s not like I don’t know I’m attractive. I’ve seen the way people talk about me online, but having Melina admit it out loud feels pretty good. Of course, she’s told me in other ways. I’ve noticed how she reacts when I touch her, the little breaths she sucks in, the way she looks away when I’m close. I’ve been collecting her. Taking note. Studying.
“Do you want to get out of here?”
“Get out of...my apartment?”
“No. St. Claire.”
“What?”
“I’m going to New England for a couple of days. Cape Cod to visit my cousin, then Dartmouth for this alumni panel they asked me to do. You should—”What am I doing?“Come with me. Get out of the bubble, wait ‘til things die down a bit here.”
She stares at me with one brow raised, waiting for more details.
She thinks I’m crazy. Am I crazy?
“I feel bad that I’m leaving you here with this mess, suffocated, like you said. It’s like I used you and now I’m running away.”
“Well, I’m glad that you feel things, Taylor, but it’s not ‘using’ if you paid me.”
Nonetheless, I feel like a piece of shit. “Five hundred dollars is like paying you with a handshake and a bushel of corn.”
She huffs and walks away from me, her ass swishing toward the kitchen in annoyance. “A designer dress and five hundred dollars is no chump change for us commoners. You gave me the necklace too, remember? I didn’t even ask for that.”
“Have you been to New England before?”
Melina asks me something about if New York counts as New England. I’m not sure because I’m too focused on the way she runs her hand through her jet-black hair, reminding me of what it felt like between my fingers last night, giving me a taste of what it would feel like wrapped around my fist. I wonder if she knows what she’s doing.I want to be her reward, I want to be her punish—
“Taylor?”
I snap out of my trance. “It’s great. There are lots of trees, fresh air, and people with funny accents. The best part is, Americans don’t give a shit about St. Claire unless it’s for the tax haven, let alone royal family or town gossip.”
She laughs in a way that shouldn’t make me feel as good as it does. “How often do you get recognized there?”
“Never. Only by people who are from here or really avid royal watchers. I’ll only give the first group the time of day.”
“When are you leaving?”
“Two days.”
She looks over to her sticker-clad laptop on the kitchen counter, then back to me. “What the hell. I might have to send some emails beforehand, but I could use the vacation.”
Wait a minute, I almost forgot to tease her about something. I try to do that at least once in each of our conversations. It’s good for her soul.
“You’re not doing this because you’re attracted to me, right?”
Melina rubs her eyes. “Oh my God,” she mutters in a creaky voice. “I shouldn’t have told you that. Why did I tell you that?”
She makes her buttons so easy to push.
I take her hands down, then put both of mine on her cheeks. Her skin is soft and nice-feeling.
I could probably kiss her again.
