Chapter Forty-Eight
Marcus
O ur flight from Boston to Orlando took a little over three hours. I was thankful for the time my phone was on airplane mode. Audrey and Melonie kept sending me text messages, giving me encouragement and telling me to keep them updated. The big stuff isn’t even until tomorrow, so I just agreed to text them and shut my phone off when we boarded the plane.
Gigi watched back-to-back princess movies on the flight, saying she needed to “get in the princess mindset” for the weekend. She fell asleep with her head on my shoulder a few minutes into the second one, so I took advantage of the quiet and closed my eyes, too.
We were both jolted from our sleep when the plane touched down. She stretches. “I never sleep on planes. I must have been exhausted.”
“Same. I feel a little better after that nap, though.”
“Me, too.” Her legs bounce up and down as we taxi to our gate. “I’m so excited! We’re really here!”
She stares out the window next to me and I can’t help watching her eyes. They’re bright green and vibrant. I take her hand in mine. “I’m glad you’re excited.”
She loops her arm around my bicep, squeezing. “You’re literally making my dreams come true.”
Something rises in me. I’m not sure if it’s pride, satisfaction, lust, or something else, but I like how it feels. I like how her body feels against me, and I like making her happy. I know I shouldn’t feel that way, but this weekend, I’m going to allow myself to feel and experience everything with her. Even if we go back to our separate rooms on Tuesday, if we put our shields back up when we go back home, during our time here, I want to know what it might be like if she were actually mine.
We check in to the resort, get to our room, and unpack. I made sure Audrey booked a suite with two bedrooms. I didn’t want Gigi to think I assumed we would be sleeping in the same bed. And I certainly didn’t want Audrey or Melonie to question my morals, but I hope the bed in the other room doesn’t see any use in our time here.
Gigi stops in my doorway. “What time is the reservation for dinner?”
I look at my phone for the time. “We’ll head out in about an hour.”
“An hour? Damn, I need to start getting ready.” She’s in her room, door shut, before I can turn around.
After showering and getting ready, I decided not to shave. When Gigi kissed me at the airport, her fingers lingered on my jawline, so I figured she might like the stubble. I steam my light blue dress shirt and dark gray pants, then get dressed, leaving my tie behind in the closet. Slipping on my loafers and fastening my watch, I grab the box I packed for Gigi and head out of my room.
When I get to the common area of the suite, Gigi is sitting in one of the chairs on the balcony. I can only see her silhouette against the setting sun, but I see her curls moving in the wind. As I step closer, I see a ribbon tied in a bow in her hair. At the sight of it, it’s as if my dick is laughing at me for thinking I can wait until we’re engaged to have sex with her.
I open the door to the balcony and she stands. She’s in a black strapless dress that has a flowing bottom hitting just below her knees. She has her trademark eyeliner on, her lipstick is natural and she’s wearing the heels I bought her. This is the Gigi I know, the Gigi I’ve grown to care for more than I care to admit.
“Ready for dinner, prince?”
I don’t answer right away, still letting my eyes roam her body.
“Prince?”
“Fuck, princess. You look perfect. Spin for me.”
She spins, her skirt lifting a few inches, giving me a full view of her legs. “Perfect.” I hold out the box in my hand. “I got you something for the weekend.”
She narrows her eyes at me. “Marcus, you don’t have to buy me gifts.”
“I know I don’t have to. I want to. Open it.”
She lifts the top off of the box and reaches inside. She giggles when she pulls out a rhinestone tiara. “Oh my God.”
I take it from her and place it on her hair. “Perfect. Now you’re a real princess for the weekend.”
“Are you kidding? I’m always a princess.” She opens the camera on her phone and inspects the tiara. “But right now, I feel like an emo princess.” She laughs. “Thank you, prince. I’m going to wear it all weekend.”
I step closer to her, pressing a kiss to her cheek. “Emo princess might be my favorite princess.”
Her eyes move back and forth between mine. “Let’s leave before I keep us here and we have to order room service.”
She steps around me and into the suite. I follow, grab my wallet, and we leave for dinner.