Page 86 of Princess and the Player
And the next.
And the next.
I’ll tell him today,I said after my last doctor’s visit two weeks ago; only when I got back to his penthouse, he’d planned a carriage ride through the park at night for us.
We were a bubble of happiness, a magic spell, and why on earth would I break it?
The following night, I psyched myself up all day, going over the words and how to deliver them gently—only that night as we lay in bed watching TV, Cherry curled up next to me instead of him. She rested her head on my leg while Tuck pouted.
I have had a litany of excuses, but the crux of it is simple.
He is something I never imagined I needed.
And I don’t want to lose him.
He is air. Life. And his flawed edges? His chaos? I love them the most. The struggle on his face when Jasper talks about football, the torment in his voice when he speaks to Nella on the phone, the nights he kisses me, then goes to the third floor and works out for hours.
In the back of my mind, a part of me is praying he’ll fall so deep in love with me that the prospect of a baby wouldn’t be that bad. I just need a bit more time.
The clock is ticking,my head says as I walk down the hall. I pause when I hear Cece’s sugary voice. “The weak can never forgive. Forgiving is an attribute of the strong. You should remember that. It will keep your relationship with Francesca healthy.”
“Isn’t that a Gandhi quote?” Tuck asks.
“It’s a Cece quote. Who’s this Gandhi?”
He laughs, the dark rumble making goose bumps rise. “I never know if you’re serious.”
“Serious is for the dead. Now that is a Cece quote.”
“Hmm. Tell me how you met Francesca.”
I hear Cece exhale. “On the first day of class, she walked in in these outrageously stacked Converse. I giggled, and she gave me a dirty look. We ignored each other for weeks; then one night, I was out at this bar with a guy I was totally in love with. I know, me, right? Anyway, Francesca plopped down next to me on a barstool and said, ‘Your boyfriend is having sex in the bathroom with a girl. Let’s go kick his ass.’ Nohior anything.”
“Did you?”
Cece snorts. “Who do you think you’re talking to? I kicked down the stall, slapped him, then stalked away. Best night ever. Then, she and I got trashed, maybe high, and ended up at Coney Island on the Ferris wheel. No clue how we got there. We vowed our friendship was forever.”
“But you laughed at her shoes?”
“No—I mean, yeah, but it was more about hey, look at the balls on that chick. She’s got something about her that people love—even old Darden.” Her face turns serious. “He was her first friend, not me or Brogan. There’s a pecking order. It’s Darden, me, Brogan, then you.”
I can feel Tuck bristle from here. His voice is silky. “I’m fourth? Fuck that.”
“Whatever. I’m spilling no secrets tonight, but you know how she feels. Just don’t mess with her, ’kay?”
I roll my eyes, turn the corner, and drink them in, my girl bestie and the man who’s swept me off my feet.
The thought stalls as he turns and brings his whiskey to his lips as I walk. I take it slow, swinging my hips. Green eyes blaze with heat, and just like that, my insides quake. Happiness hits my brain, and my smile must be huge because Cece makes a gagging face behind Tuck’s back.
It’s going to end soon,a voice whispers.
He eyes me up and down. “You are fucking gorgeous.”
“She’s my boo,” Cece murmurs.
I inhale his spicy male scent, and my body hums at the memory of us this morning, his maddening tongue tracing circles on my nipples as he pumped inside of me in his shower.
“Do you want a drink?” he asks.
