The Guard They Called Princess

Prologue

NATHAN

Dinner has been ready for nearly an hour now, and the motherfucker still isn’t here.

I sigh, trying to remind myself to have patience while I wait for Colson under the cover of the porch roof in the heavy rain.

He’s coming. He’ll be here any minute. Everything is okay. You just need to breathe.

I keep repeating it in my head. Even if I am beginning to sound like Dory from Finding Nemo.

Dating a closeted gay man while he’s married to a woman? Not for the faint of heart.

What’s even worse than that?

I also happen to be Colson’s sobriety sponsor.

Needless to say, timing and relying on plans doesn’t always happen the way we hope for. Staying hidden is absolutely nothing new to us. We’re either hiding at my house from his wife, or hiding at my house from fellow sponsors at Narcotics Anonymous…

Yippee-ki-yay, motherfucker.

I turn my head back toward the house with a heavy feeling swirling in my gut, trying to push the worry out of my head. It’s one trait I’ve never been able to escape in my sobriety. The impending sense of doom. The thought that everything is going to go up in flames for no goddamn reason.

Shaking my head, I swallow roughly.

Find a positive.

All those years ago, when I was a dumbass kid with my own sobriety sponsor, he would constantly remind me.

Find a positive.

My eyes trail over the light fixture and canopy I installed on my front porch.

A fresh build. A build I did entirely by myself—with the help of my construction team only as needed. But a build completed with my own sweat, blood, and tears.

This is my positive, I remind myself.

A home to be me.

Just waiting for the day I can actually call it a home. I’d be lying to myself every damn second if I didn’t say that I was getting utterly tired of hiding the love of my life from everyone around me.

I often ask myself why I do this. Why I continue falling madly in love with a married man. Why I continue waiting, testing my patience? Why, why, why.

But he’s worth it.

God, he’s so fucking worth it.

And I’m holding onto hope that something positive comes from waiting.

Right person, wrong time and all that.

Or maybe it’s just living in the wrong state. Or this specific town. A tiny little town where people turn their noses up at us even hugging, let alone being in a relationship.

A sigh leaves my lips.

What a crock of shit life can be. Thirty-five years old and I’m still constantly being taught that life is severely, inequitably, and ruthlessly unfair.

Just as I go to stand and turn out the lights, my phone buzzes in my pocket, breaking me out of my thoughts.

Colson

On the way.

Sorry

Me

You’re late.

Colson

She knows.

Well if that’s not a way for me to almost shit my pants, I don’t know what is.

Me

She knows???? She knows what?

Colson

Everything.

She hired a PI

I’ll see you soon.

Worry punches straight through me. As much as I should be excited about a text like that—a text that could be the turning point for our relationship—I’m anything but.

Colson isn’t ready for this.

Not yet.

It doesn’t matter how many sleepless nights we’ve shared cuddled up together. How many intimate moments or moments filled with laughing and bullshitting.

I know Colson isn’t ready for this. And I was never going to push it—regardless of how much the ache of loneliness has been eating at me.

Coming out of the closet is fucking scary, but coming out of the closet when you’ve been conditioned by religious stereotypes and happen to be married to the spawn of Satan?

Terrifying.

And yet, Nicole hired a PI.

Nicole probably just outed him, against his will.

What the absolute fuck?

Minutes go by before Colson’s headlights are speeding toward my house. I jog to meet him as he pulls into the driveway. And my heart downright shatters as he gets out of the car, tears in his eyes, and throws himself into my arms.

His rough voice comes out in broken sobs. “Sh-she told ev-everyone.”

Fuck me to tears.

I wrap my arms tightly around him. Our clothes stick to our skin in the heavy rain, but I can’t be bothered to care. “What all does she know?” I ask.

“Fucking everything, Nate!” Colson nearly shouts. “She literally invited my parents over and threw an entire manila envelope down on the counter, full of pictures of us. I’ve never seen my dad go green until tonight.”

I’m struck speechless…

“She told them I got sober to leave her. Then she started accusing me of not being sober. Mom and dad held onto every single word of hers too. Nothing I said was taken into account.”

I swallow the tears in my throat. The emotion and devastation for him. “When did this happen? Just now?”

He shakes his head in my chest, and it’s only then that I notice how bad he’s shaking. Pulling away from him, I grab his hand and lead him up to the front door. His voice is small when he answers, “After church. That’s why I haven’t answered all day.”

A part of me wants to scoff, and the other part of me wants to gag.

The Wicked Witch of the West outed him to his entire family and accused him of relapsing on a day she pretends to be such a saint. “I’m so sorry, baby.”

Colson is quiet.

We both know sorry isn’t going to fix this.

Who knows if anything can, honestly.

Once inside, we bypass the kitchen as I lead him into my bedroom and march straight to the bathroom to crank the shower to the exact temperature I know Colson prefers.

Turning to him, I lift his shirt before placing a soft kiss on his shoulder.

I do the same thing to his legs as I strip him out of the jeans that are pretty much glued to his thighs.

When I stand, I find him just staring at me, curiously.

I raise a brow. “What?”

“Why do you want to take care of me when I’m like this?”

Because I love you.

I swallow the words. “That’s what boyfriends do.”

“Nate,” Colson deadpans, and I sigh.

I refuse to say the words when he’s like this.

Telling someone you’re in love with them while they’re in the middle of falling apart?

Never been the brightest idea. Instead, I hedge around his question.

“Because I care about you, and you’re cold and sad.

Just get in the shower, okay? I’ll warm up dinner.

You’re here now. Tomorrow’s problems are tomorrow’s problems, no matter how earth-shattering they may be. ”

His brown eyes fill with tears again. “Thank you.”

I nod my head, stand, and place a gentle kiss on his lips again before leaving the room. A ghost of a smile graces my lips when I hear the sliding glass door to the shower open.

Good boy.

But as I reach the bottom of my staircase, that ghost of a smile vanishes entirely at the sight before me.

Red and blue police lights are shining brightly outside.

Walking to my front door, I open it and stare out the screen door.

And then I almost throw up at the sight of a sniffer dog going batshit crazy at both of our cars—with a smirking Nicole standing at the very end of the driveway, staring directly at me.