Page 61 of Prince Material
It had been three-and-a-half months since I’d met Orson, two weeks since our first kiss, and approximately twelve hours since I’d realized I was falling in love with him.
In love. The phrase felt foreign in my mind, like trying on clothes in a style I’d never dared to wear before. I’d had hookups with anything ranging from bad encounters to spectacular sex, but nothing that had ever made me feel like this. Nothing that had made me want to build something real, something lasting.
Last night, we’d stayed up talking until three in the morning, Orson’s head resting on my chest, his wild curls tickling my chin. He’d been explaining the technical details of how the Egyptians had structured the pyramids, his long fingers drawing invisiblediagrams in the air. I’d barely followed his explanation, but I’d been enraptured by the animation in his voice, the intelligence in his gorgeous, brown eyes, the way his whole body seemed to vibrate with the joy of explaining something he loved.
And then he’d stopped mid-sentence, looked up at me, and said, “You’re not listening to a word I’m saying, are you?”
“I’m listening to every word. I just don’t understand half of them.”
He’d laughed then, that unexpected laugh that transformed his sharp, serious face into something mischievous and young. “You don’t have to pretend to be interested in my obsessions.”
“I’m not pretending to be interested in you,” I’d said, and the words had slipped out before I could analyze them, measure them, weigh their impact the way I’d been taught to do with every utterance since childhood.
The memory made my stomach flip pleasantly. I needed to talk to someone about this feeling, someone who would understand the complications that came with being me. Someone I could trust not to breathe a word until I was ready to talk to anyone else about it. I reached for my phone and pulled up my brother’s contact.
Laurens and I had always been close, partially because we were barely two years apart in age and mostly because we’d always had to have each other’s backs. Growing up in the public eye did things to you as a kid, and we’d always been able to count on each other.
Laurens picked up on the third ring. “Well, well. If it isn’t my little brother, the American college student. To what do I owe this honor?”
“Can’t I just call to say hello?” I asked, sitting up and leaning against the wall, knees pulled to my chest. “Maybe I missed your charming personality and judgmental sighs.”
“You could, but you never do.” His voice was warm with affection despite the teasing. “And my sighs aren’t judgmental, they’re aristocratic. We practiced them extensively in prince school, remember?”
I snorted. “Ah yes, right between ‘Eating Soup Without Slurping’ and ‘How to Smile for Official Portraits.’ Those were the days.”
“Everything okay over there? Classes going well? No international incidents this time?”
I let out an indignant huff. “You’re making it sound like I cause incidents all the time.”
“Well, I wouldn’t quite go that far, but there have been some… misunderstandings.”
“Misunderstandings that were not my fault,” I protested, though I couldn’t help grinning. “And no, no incidents. Actually, everything’s kind of perfect.”
There was a pause on the other end. “Okay, now I’m intrigued. You sound different.”
“Different how?”
“Happy,” he said simply. “Not the ‘I’m pretending everything is fine for the press’ happy, but actually happy.”
I took a deep breath. “I met someone.”
“Ah.” Just that one syllable, but it carried volumes of understanding. “Tell me about him.”
My sexuality had never been an issue for my family, including Laurens. He hadn’t been surprised when I’d told him and ever since, he’d shown his wholehearted acceptance in every single way.
The knot of tension between my shoulders loosened. “His name is Orson, and he’s brilliant. Literally brilliant, probably the smartest person I’ve ever met. He’s studying civil engineering and he’s super passionate about restoring old buildings. He’sfrom New Orleans originally, and his mom and sister are amazing, and—” I cut myself off, embarrassed by my own enthusiasm.
“He sounds wonderful,” Laurens said softly.
“He is. He’s super cute, and he has the most amazing eyes… and when he laughs, really laughs, it’s like… like…”
“Like watching the sun come out?”
“Yeah.” I ran a hand through my hair, smiling at how well my brother understood. “Exactly like that.”
“How did you meet?”
“He’s my roommate.”
