Page 82 of Prince Charmless
I’ll admit I’ve been particularly flirty toward Melina. I like watching her squirm. It’s usually not my style. Tom is the one who flirts with everyone. I’m pretty sure he flirts with guys more than I do, and he’s heterosexual. I know because he once came out to me as straight. When I told him that’s not how that works, he insisted he was doing it out of solidarity. His heart is in the right place.
Melina runs her thumbnail along the seam of the paisley couch. “It’s just, what’s all this flirting going to amount to? A date? I’ve never heard of you going on a date before.”
“I’m not a virgin.”
She bursts out laughing. “Taylor, that is not the question I asked.”
Hm. Maybe I got carried away. I just want to make sure she’s not one of those people under the assumption. Though my family is very Catholic, waiting until marriage was never on thetable for me. As gross as it sounds, I’m familiar enough with the monarchy’s history to know it probably wasn’t for my dad either.
I’m not sure what counts as dating. Is having consistent sex dating? If so, I dated Jamie, but I’m still not convinced he’s completely human. I guess Idateda lot in college if I’m going off that definition. I figured I couldn’t be a whore back in the motherland so I took my time living in America as an opportunity to get it out of my system. Everything non-academic from that era of my life is a little foggy. Back then, people were fascinated by me. They wanted to show the sheltered foreign kid all the grimy facets of American culture: frat parties, recreational drugs, furnished basements. (Not a lot of basements on an island prone to flooding.) Sometimes I see my younger self in Tom, playing into naivety to keep relationships superficial. But what else is there to do in New Hampshire besides explore your bisexual tendencies and lament over your dead mother?
“Sometimes Tom gets bored and likes to play matchmaker,” I say. “Once I have a child who turns eighteen, he can reap all the benefits of his title without having any of the responsibility. He’ll set me up with someone and I’ll go to make him happy, but I usually end up scaring them off or vice versa.”
She scoffs. “Who is Tom setting you up with? Some blonde baroness of big pointy tits?” Melina uses her index fingers to mime lasers coming out of her breasts. Does she think she’s not good enough for me? Is that what she meant byfundamentally unavailable?
“Yeah, exactly what I care about, hair color and pointiness of the tits. Yours look great by the way, have I ever told you that?” I gesture to the tits in question. Screw the no-flirting rule. I’m sick of being wholesome.
Her airy laugh fills the living room. That alone turns me on.
“We haven’t even done anything, and there’s already been so much drama.” She holds up her phone to signify St. Claire’s current water cooler gossip.
“Exactly. What’s there left to lose?”
She chews her lip. “You just feel like a bad idea, you know? You just have that face.”
“That’s the most beautiful compliment I’ve ever heard.” I grab both of her soft hands, then inspect her blue fingertips. The sparkles on her ring finger and pinky are a little gift for those who have the privilege of being this close to her.
“Can you fault me for being hesitant?” she asks. “You’re one of the most complicated men on the planet. We’re from completely different worlds, I mean, I live in the country that you’re the prince of. Isn’t that some sort of...HR violation?”
I move my hands to her biceps and shake her. “You’re thinking too much, again.”
She raises her shoulders. “I like thinking.”
“Well, stop. Be spontaneous. You’ve been trying to do that, right?”
Her demeanor shifts. She looks at me like I’ve shapeshifted.
“Meli—”
“Yeah,” she says, leaning toward me. “Yeah, I have.”
She affixes a hand to my face. I tuck some hair behind her ear. She runs her thumb across my cheekbone. I touch my forehead to hers. After what feels like a century of these little exchanges and heavy breathing, we collide. Melina’s lips are soft and pliable, obedient. And she tastes like chocolate for some reason. I thought it was just a fluke the first time, but she definitely tastes like chocolate again. Whatever it is, I like it. I wrap my arms around her waist prompting her to fall on top of me. When she does, our speed increases tenfold. My hand slides down her back as our mouths explore. I persist past her ass to her upperthigh. I bring her on top of me more because I’m greedy and she lets me. Like a blanket, I want to be covered by her.
Melina feels foreign and off-limits, like when we break apart, she’ll slap me in the face and call me a pig. Until then, I’ll savor her so I can remember this moment for the rest of time.
She sits up in a panic. I open my eyes.
“You guys seem like you’re having fun,” Cassie says behind me. “We’ll keep to a different space.”
I turn around to see her walking out of the living room. Cassandra, wingwoman of the century.
Melina uses her middle finger to wipe me off her lips. The subtle way she does it is the hottest thing I’ve ever seen in my life.
“Look what happens when you stop thinking.” She gestures to the doorway.
Maybe she’s right. It feels like we’re teenagers who just got caught.
Melina props herself up on my thighs. “Hey, I don’t think I got a good look at your abs before, could I see them again?”
