Page 32 of Prince Material
That had the others in stitches, of course, even more when I pouted.
“You’re all terrible people,” I declared. “I don’t know why I’m friends with any of you.”
“Because we’re charming and delightful,” Greg said with a grin that had charmed countless tabloid photographers.
The conversation flowed easily after that, with Orson fitting into our dynamic as naturally as if he’d always been there. My friends asked him questions about his photography, his classes, his family, and he answered everything with that quiet confidence I’d come to associate with him. He and Greg got into an animated discussion about modern versus classic architecture, while Tore kept trying to get Orson to share more embarrassing stories about me.
“There has to be something,” Tore insisted. “You’re living with our resident disaster gay prince. Has he tried to microwave metal yet?”
“That was one time,” I protested, “and I maintain that container didn’t clearly state it had a metal handle. Plus, I was twelve, okay?”
“He did wash his red socks with a white shirt again last week,” Orson offered, his eyes twinkling. “Then declared his now-pink shirt to be the new fashion color this fall.”
“Betrayal!” I clutched my chest dramatically. “And here I was, about to nominate you for roommate of the year.”
When Greg mentioned something about his sister Charlotte’s latest charity event, I caught the slight widening of Orson’s eyes, the barely perceptible straightening of his shoulders, buthe didn’t say anything. I watched him carefully, wondering if he was connecting the dots.
When we finally ended the call forty minutes later, Orson was quiet for a moment, still sitting close enough that I could feel the warmth radiating from his body.
“So,” he said slowly, “that was Prince Gregory… Right?”
“You recognized him?”
“Kind of hard not to. He’s only been on every major news outlet since birth.” Orson turned to look at me, his expression unreadable. “And the others?”
I sighed, running a hand through my hair. “Yeah. They’re also princes. Nils is from Sweden, Tore from Norway.”
“Oh god.” Orson buried his face in his hands. “I talked about architecture with the prince of England.”
“Technically, he’s not the prince of… Never mind,” I said quickly when Orson’s face tightened. “I know they’re all royals like me, but they’re my friends and they’ve had my back for as long as I can remember. It’s not easy finding true friends in my world.”
“I can’t believe I told a bunch of princes about that time you got stuck in the revolving door at the library,” he groaned.
“Hey, that door was definitely malfunctioning,” I defended myself. “And besides, they’ve seen me do way worse. Ask Tore about the time we tried to convince the palace guards I could speak to ducks.”
He let out a sigh. “I wish I had known. I would’ve shut up. God, I probably sounded like an idiot.”
“Hey.” I touched his arm gently, trying to ignore how my fingers tingled at the contact. “You were perfect. They loved you.”
“You’re only saying that to make me feel better.”
“I’m saying it because it’s true.” I smiled, remembering oneof my favorite movies. “Have you ever seenNotting Hill, with Julia Roberts and Hugh Grant?”
“Yeah, why?”
“Do you remember that moment where Julia’s character, Anna Scott, is giving that speech in the bookstore? About being just a girl?”
He nodded.
“That’s kind of what it’s like for us. We may be princes, but underneath, we’re just guys, standing in front of others, asking them to…” I trailed off, realizing too late what I was quoting, and heat rushed to my face.
Orson’s warm, brown eyes met mine, something soft and undefined passing between us. The air felt thick suddenly, charged with possibility. My heart hammered against my ribs.
“Thanks for including me,” Orson said quietly, breaking the moment. But his smile held a warmth that made my stomach flip.
I watched him get up and head to his desk, presumably to study, and tried to calm my racing heart. What was happening between us? Was this proof that whatever it was, he was feeling it too? I had no idea, but was I brave enough to find out? The thought of ruining our friendship terrified me, but the way my body reacted to his presence, the way my heart lifted at his smile…
Maybe some risks were worth taking. I just had to figure out if this was one of them.
