Chapter 15

Fifteen

ALERIC

I tried not to feel embarrassed about my apartment. It wasn’t bad. It wasn’t messy or dirty, and yeah, the carpet needed to be replaced five years ago, and yes, there were oddly shaped water stains on the ceiling, but it was tidy.

It was nicely put together, and apart from those dishes I’d warned Camillo about, it was clean. It had to be that way. I had lived in such chaos after first separating from my parents, and I’d let myself wallow in both my internal and external mess.

Part of digging myself out of the hole was learning to be content with the place I called home. Everything was secondhand except my sheets and blankets, but everything was also so well-loved.

When I walked into the living room with Camillo attached to my back, I felt him squeeze my shoulders tightly. “Oh, Aleric. It’s nice ,” he breathed into my ear.

“You don’t need to lie to make me feel better. I know what it is.”

“No.” He squeezed harder. “Listen. It’s yours. Please sit me down so I can look at you.”

I walked him to the sofa and hesitated because it was nowhere near as nice or as stable as the one he had in his little place. But it wasn’t like I had much of a choice. “I also have a kitchen chair if?—”

“Here, please,” he murmured.

I turned around and bent my knees, ignoring the wobble in my thighs as I sank to the ground. I felt the weight shift as he released me, and I leaned forward so he could adjust himself. Then he touched the back of my neck.

“Aleric.”

I turned, still on my knees, feeling the concrete beneath the trodden carpet padding that was probably nonexistent by now. It took me a moment to find the courage to look up at him, but when I did, he gripped my chin and pulled me into a kiss.

It was soft but demanding, and it overwhelmed all my emotions until my embarrassment was nothing more than a tiny burning ember.

“This place is yours,” he said again, like that meant something. And hell, maybe it did.

“Better or worse than you expected?” I asked.

He sighed. “I’ve stopped letting myself have those kinds of expectations when it comes to you.” He stroked the side of my jaw with the backs of his fingers, tilting his head to the side as he studied me. “I like it here. It feels…safe. Quiet.”

Bowing my head, I nodded and took a fortifying breath. “I know it sounds ridiculous, but I don’t want to leave. I don’t want to give this up. I wish I could do what I love without having to sacrifice this part of me.”

I didn’t think he would understand, and by the look on his face, I was right. He’d never had that option before. He was born into royalty, and even if he abdicated—or whatever it was second-born princes did to give up their titles—he would die royalty. He would always be Prince Camillo.

“You have it for now,” he said after a few moments. He leaned forward again and kissed me. “So. About those dishes?—”

“No. My sink is too tall for you to reach,” I told him with a grin, grabbing his hands. Running my thumb over his perfectly shaped nails, I smiled at the thought of him sitting for a manicure. “And I wouldn’t want the hot water and washing-up liquid to ruin these.”

“Shut up.” He shoved me back into the coffee table, sending me onto my ass. His eyes went wide, but instead of apologizing, he burst into laughter.

“You’re an ass,” I groused.

He grinned. “That is not new information, my darling.”

Heat rushed into my face, so overwhelming I felt dizzy.

Darling. His darling.

His .

The moment between us sobered. He seemed to understand the impact of what he’d said, and I braced myself for him to take it away. But he didn’t. He reached for me and used both arms to pull me back to my knees.

“I like you this way.”

“I can tell.” Pressing my palms to his thighs, I rubbed them up—up, up until they reached that spot on his ribs that made him moan softly. “I like me this way too. But only for you.”

“Yeah?” His question was vulnerable, and so was his tone. “Swear it.”

Oh. That was not a question or a request.

Bowing my head, I took his hands and kissed both sets of knuckles the way I’d seen people do in movies when they knelt before a king. “Only for you, Your Majesty.”

“Highness,” he corrected.

I looked up. “Is there a difference?”

“Yes. Majesty is a title I do not want.”

“Belongs to your brother, then?”

“Eventually.” He took one of his hands back and traced a touch over the shell of my ear, making me shiver. His mouth dropped into a tiny, self-satisfied grin. “My parents for now. My brother’s eldest after him.”

“Were you ever?—”

“No,” he said, interrupting my thought.

“You don’t even know what I was going to ask.”

His grin widened. “Yes, I do. It’s what everyone asks. Did I ever want it? Was I ever jealous? The answer is always no. Not before the accident and definitely not now. I was not born to be king, and I’m grateful the universe saw and understood that.”

Letting out a slow breath, I pushed up, backed him against the cushions, then kissed him. So far, he’d been the one to be so forward—to initiate, to demand, to control. But in that moment, I needed it. I needed to know he’d take it from me like this.

And he did, without hesitation. He wrapped both arms around my waist and tugged until I was up and straddling his legs. They began to spasm so hard he grunted against my lips.

“Should I move off?”

“Don’t you dare.” He held me tighter. “If it bothers you?—”

“No. It doesn’t.” That was the absolute truth. I kissed him again as the spasms began to slow. “But I do think I should go get your chair.”

He pulled back and looked at me. “I don’t mind being up here without it if I’m with you.”

His trust in me was touching. It was something precious, to be guarded. I had no idea what our future could look like, but I hoped that was something I could keep. “Yes, but I’d hate for one of the kids to think it was a toy. Plus, it has all my candy.”

He huffed and waved me off. “Fine. Go.”

I kissed him once more for good measure, then hopped off and jogged for the front door. I didn’t want to leave him for more than a few minutes. I was afraid if he had time to think, he’d have time to change his mind about being here with me.

It wasn’t logical. We’d spent plenty of time apart, and his want for me hadn’t cooled, but I was waiting for that moment—the moment that happened with everyone—where they realized I wasn’t worth the effort.

The moment I saw the look on his face, it would crush me.

I wanted to keep this as long as I could.

Taking the stairs two at a time, I reached the bottom and grabbed the chair, heaving it over my back. His little carrying pack hit me in the back of the head, but I ignored the pain as I walked back up, doing my absolute best not to nick the sides.

It took a little twisting and shoving to get it through the front door, but when I managed it, I found him sitting forward, watching me, clearly holding back a laugh.

“What?”

“It folds, you know.”

I flushed with shame. I did know that. I used a chair just like this on set, but having him here had me all upside down. “Um. I didn’t want to waste time doing that.”

“Mhm.” He lifted a brow as I hit the button that allowed the chair to fold nearly in half, and I pushed it against the wall.

“Unless you want it?”

“I’m quite content here. Though we could move to your bedroom.”

My face heated again. “Uh…no. No, that’s…we shouldn’t do that.”

He tilted his head to the side again. “Embarrassed?”

Crossing the room, I dropped beside him and laid my head back against the worn cushion. “My mattress is secondhand.”

“Oh. That doesn’t bother me.”

“It bothers me,” I told him. “I’m going to order a new one soon. But it felt kind of pointless since I have to move in the next month or so.”

He shifted to the side, then took my hand and began drawing lines along my palm. “Maybe when you move, we can shop together. I can buy you a housewarming gift.”

“You’re warm enough and gift enough for me,” I tried out. God, that was cheesy. No, it was worse than cheesy. It was full cringe.

He was biting back a smile. “Oh. That’s…hmm. Kind of you to say.”

“Shut up.”

He burst into laughter again and dragged me into another kiss. “Would you like to come, my darling?”

Fuck. He couldn’t just blurt shit out like that. I was going to be dead of lust if he kept that up. I slapped a palm over my face and gave a silent scream against it. “Can you not say stuff like that?”

“Not a request I can fulfill, my darling. I’m sorry.”

Dropping my hand, I stared at him. I needed to be honest. I wanted him, but I was not in a good place for sex. “I don’t think I can come right now. I want you so badly, but I’m all…worked up and stressed-out. I don’t know. I’m sorry. It’s not usually easy for me.”

“I understand.” His fingers moved to the side of my neck, pressing against my pulse, which was hammering a little too hard. “This is nice too, you know.”

“Is it?”

“Unless I’m misreading you.” Oh, he looked anxious now. Fuck.

“No. You’re not. I just…wasn’t sure what this was supposed to be. I’m definitely here for how good you make me feel, and I like spending time with you. But I also know you don’t want anything serious, so?—”

“Why do you think that?”

I blinked at him. “Because you said it.”

“I didn’t.”

I was affronted. “Yes, you did. You said a relationship with me would be a bad idea.”

He hummed in thought again, then shook his head.

“No, look, I get it. You’re a prince, and yeah, you’re a super down-to-earth guy, and I love that about you. But I also understand that you can’t be seen with someone like me.”

“Someone like you?” he repeated.

I rolled my eyes. The fucker really was going to make me say it, wasn’t he? “Disaster? Former child actor with a history of public meltdowns and drug abuse? The one everyone’s waiting to fall apart again? I can’t imagine the shit you’ll get for that.”

He sighed and then flopped back, hooking his hand in the front of my shirt to take me with him. We were a mess of tangled limbs, and it was entirely uncomfortable. “This isn’t going to work.” The words stung, even if I knew they were about our positions.

“Let me—” I grunted as I sat up halfway, fixed his legs out straight, then helped him turn onto his side. He let out a happy sigh and pulled me against his front.

“Better. And also, you’re a moron.”

“Thank you,” I said dryly. “I feel so incredibly loved.”

His hand softened against my cheek as he traced my faint freckles. “You’ve been through hell and back.”

“So have you?—”

My words were stopped when he pressed a finger to my lips. “This isn’t a competition, Aleric. Be quiet and listen to me.”

I swallowed thickly and nodded. He didn’t remove his finger.

“You’ve been through hell and back. I know what you told me is only a drop in the ocean of bullshit forced upon you as a child. And I know you were thrown into situations that robbed you of the life you should have had.”

My throat went tight, and my eyes heated. I nodded.

He rubbed his finger over my lower lip, and the gesture was oddly soothing. “I have spent my entire life under scrutiny, and that’s not going away anytime soon. If ever. The last thing I want to do is add to your trauma because if the press get even a whisper of what we’ve done, they will never leave you alone. Never.”

Closing my eyes, I nodded and leaned against him. He held me tighter. “Is it ridiculous to say that I don’t care?”

He laughed. “No. But it’s ridiculous to think you mean that. After everything you’ve been through?—?”

Pulling back, I looked up at him. “Some things are worth it, Camillo.”

He hummed softly and didn’t respond, but his grip on me became almost desperate, and I wondered how long we could stay like this before we had to go.

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