Chapter 15
Fifteen
Daphne
“I’m so sad it’s your last night here,” my mom said over the phone.
I zipped my suitcase and dropped it to the floor. “Me too.”
“I hate that you’re spending it sick and couldn’t at least join us for one last dinner.”
“The dinner they brought up was good at least.”
“You make sure you come say goodbye before you leave. Contagious or not, I’m hugging you goodbye.”
“I will.” I added a yawn for good measure as I climbed into bed.
“Goodnight, honey.”
“Night.”
I ended the call and dropped the sick-girl act along with my phone. I’d spent the last two days holed up in my room, pretending to be sick. I hated lying to my family, but after the yacht party, hiding in my room felt way easier than facing them.
By the time Vittoria’s version of the yacht story reached my mom and grandparents, I’d apparently gotten drunk, stripped in front of the party, and jumped overboard.
Funny how her memory skipped the part where she’d practically delivered Brooks to my bedroom.
Or her little striptease. How convenient.
I was finally getting a taste of the side of royalty my mom had warned me about.
Brooks was another reason I’d been hiding. He was here in Calira to fuck with me. If I didn’t leave my room, he’d get fewer chances to do it.
Tomorrow, I would fly back to Saint Vale. If Brooks somehow ended up on my flight, I’d seriously consider crashing the damn plane.
Ever since finding out about the cameras, I changed in the bathroom, flipped off every corner of my room four times a day, and barely took any calls so he couldn’t eavesdrop.
I picked my phone back up when it buzzed.
Brooks: Take off your clothes. I’m bored, and I would appreciate a good show.
I debated how much prison time murdering a president’s son actually carried … then how many years would be worth it to do just that.
I pressed my tongue against the inside of my cheek to stop myself from saying the words out loud as I typed them.
Me: How about you do it first? Send me a video of you naked to make it fair. Then MAYBE I’ll consider it.
I wouldn’t consider it for shit. But he didn’t know that.
Brooks: There’s nothing for you to consider. I already have eyes on you everywhere.
If that was his pitch for nudes, then his persuasion skills sucked.
Me: Unless those hidden cameras suddenly learned how to take my clothes off, you don’t have any power here.
He didn’t immediately reply this time.
Five seconds passed. Then ten.
I checked the top of my screen to make sure I still had service.
Is he at a loss for words?
When he took too long for my liking, I snapped a photo of my pajama top, making sure my face wasn’t showing. A few strands of my hair fell over the pink satin.
“I’m only doing this because I’m bored,” I muttered to myself, as if that made sending the photo any less stupid.
Me: Still dressed, as you can see. Just like I’ll be every time you’re around.
That got a quick response from him.
A string of fired-off texts blew up my phone.
Brooks: That’s not what I have recorded from the other night.
Brooks: I recall your pussy right in my face.
Brooks: I’m picturing it right now in my mind.
Me: Keep picturing it.
Me: What’s that saying? Take a picture. It’ll last longer.
Brooks: Take a picture for me then. Make it last longer.
Me: *this person has blocked you*
Brooks: lol
Brooks: *this user has licked your pussy*
I typed so fast that I nearly cracked my screen.
Me: OMG! You’re so fucking demented, and that NEVER happened.
Brooks: Thought I was blocked, Princess?
Brooks: You don’t have the balls to block me because you like my dirty talk.
Me: You’re right. I don’t have the balls to do it because I don’t have balls.
Me: BTW, the stuff that comes out of yours is seriously gross.
Me: Like sewer water.
Brooks: Get accustomed to drinking sewer water then.
Brooks: I’ll be honest.
I snorted.
Me: WHOA! That’s a first.
Brooks: You taste delicious.
Me: Remind me to Google how not to taste delicious.
Brooks: No. You need to Google how to swallow cum better.
Me: Maybe I would’ve swallowed better if I’d actually wanted to swallow.
Brooks: I’m not a fan of spitters.
Me: I don’t want you as a fan.
Brooks: Too bad. You shouldn’t have barged your way into my life years ago.
Me: I’ve tried to step out of it.
Brooks: Liar. You’re everywhere I turn.
Me: Don’t select me as your Fawn, and I’ll stay far, far away.
Brooks: I like keeping my enemies close.
Me: I’d be bad for your image. Imagine what the public would think.
Me: A Fawn who thinks your cum tastes like sewer water is bad press.
Brooks: No one in public will ever know you’re my Fawn.
I frowned, hating that it was a secret. That could never be used to my advantage.
Brooks: You’re just Fawn fun before I enter the real world.
Brooks: You’re not marriage or First Lady material.
I stared at the screen, my gut clenching. That one hurt.
Not because I wanted to be Brooks’s wife. That was never going to happen.
He was trying to hurt me. Damn him for succeeding.
I shouldn’t have replied, but I lacked self-control.
Me: What are you looking for then?
Brooks: A Fawn.
Brooks: A pussy to fuck.
Brooks: A mouth to suck my cock.
Brooks: I’m going to make you taste my cum again to take those words back too.
Me: In your dreams.
Me: How do you know it doesn’t taste bad? Have you tasted yours?
Brooks: No.
Me: Anyone else’s?
Brooks: Cum with sperm? No. Yours? Yes.
Brooks: Better yet, let me taste it again to give you the answer. Sneak out of the castle.
Me: Hell no.
Brooks: Why?
Me: You’re not marriage or king material.
Me: You may be the son of the president, but I’m a princess.
Brooks: May the best position win then.
Brooks: But until then, go ahead and do it.
Me: I’m not sneaking out.
Brooks: Put your hand down your panties and let me see you play with yourself then.
I couldn’t stop myself from rubbing my thighs together.
This was the dangerous part.
When our fighting turned into flirting, I forgot why I was supposed to hate him.
Brooks: I’ll think about how good you taste as you do it.
I made the dirtiest face I could at the nearest camera as I typed.
Me: You’ll never taste me again.
Brooks: Wrong.
Brooks: As soon as we get back to Saint Vale, I’m going on a Daphne’s-pussy-only diet.
Me: It’s too low carb for your liking.
Me: I’m actually in the middle of having a chastity belt made with barbed wire as we speak.
Brooks: Do that, and I’ll become a problem for everyone you love.
Brooks: How many times have you touched yourself, thinking about me?
I gripped my phone tight. No way was I ever telling the truth on that one.
Me: Never.
Brooks: Still lying …
Me:
Brooks: That’s not an answer.
Me: It’s the only answer you’re getting.
Brooks: We’ll revisit this conversation when we’re back at Saint Vale.
Brooks had always been different over text, even back when we liked each other. Which made zero sense. His texts were probably the easiest thing in the world to leak.
Behind a screen, Brooks put his guard down. He flirted and joked more. He became easier to like … to love.
Shutting my eyes, I remembered how he’d gotten my number. He’d manipulated his way into that too.
Warm sun soaked my bare skin as I sat on Adelina’s bedroom balcony in my yellow polka-dot bikini, reading The Hunger Games.
Adelina was gone at a hair appointment, and I’d stayed behind.
“Brooks! Your sister’s friend,” one of his friends called in a deep voice. “The blonde.”
I dropped my book and peeked over the railing. Brooks was sitting by the pool with two friends.
All three were shirtless.
All three were hot.
Brooks’s back was to me, but even with my limited view, I knew he looked the best.
He always did in my eyes.
I was the walking cliché of the seventeen-year-old girl crushing on her best friend’s older brother.
“She’s hot,” the same guy said, running a hand through his shaggy brown hair. “What’s her deal?”
Brooks twisted the cap off his beer and leaned back in his chair. “What do you mean?”
“Don’t be an asshole,” the other guy said, raising his beer to his lips. “Is she single?”
“I don’t keep tabs on my sister’s friends. I know nothing about them, nor do I care to.”
“Ouch,” I muttered to myself.
I clutched my chest in fake offense.
“Do you have her number?” his friend asked.
He was quick to answer, “Nope.”
“Can you get it for me?”
“Nope.”
The guy groaned, throwing his head back. “Fucking cockblocking motherfucker.”
“My mom and sister would kick my ass if I helped your dumbass get anywhere near one of her friends.”
“Dude,” the guy said, ripping the label off his beer and tossing it at Brooks, “my dad is a senator. Any girl would love to have me. I’m prime husband material to have a good life.”
I wrinkled my nose at that comment.
My father was also a senator, and I never felt the need to think of myself as some prized show horse.
I had zero interest in this guy, but Brooks deciding that for me still pissed me off.
“Yeah, because you plan to marry her,” Brooks grumbled. “You want to fuck her and run.”
“So? You got a problem with that?”
Brooks went quiet, and it wasn’t until his head tipped back that I realized he was chugging his beer.
He lowered it to the table. “Find a girl your own age. She’s too innocent for you.”
The guy scoffed.
For someone who claimed not to care, he’d been acting different lately.
He’d noticed when I walked into rooms.
Sometimes, he’d stop listening to whoever he was talking to.
Because he was looking at me.
Brooks stood and rolled his shoulders before heading toward the pool.
I couldn’t help but stare.
His muscles flexed as he dove in.
I thought that was the end of it, but it wasn’t.
Later that day, when his friends were gone and I was still waiting on Adelina to get back, I ventured downstairs for a bottle of water, still in my bikini.
I hit the kitchen and nearly turned right back around.
Brooks leaned against the stone waterfall island. His elbows were planted on the counter as he focused on his phone.
Not wanting him to know I’d been staring, I cleared my throat and headed for the fridge.
He slowly lowered his phone to the island. Somehow, I resisted checking if he was staring at my ass.
I did make sure to give my hips a little shimmy as I opened the fridge and conveniently decided I needed a water from the lowest shelf.
This time, he was the one who cleared his throat.
I turned, shut the fridge, and took an innocent sip of water.
He forgot about whatever had been on his phone as his stare drifted down my bikini before slowly making its way back to my face.
I’d be lying if I said I regretted choosing my tiniest bikini when I heard the hitch in his breath.
“Do you want one too?” I asked, holding up the bottle.
He shook his head and dragged his free hand over his face. “Nah. I’m good.”
“Did your friends leave?”
His shoulders tensed at my mention of them. “Yeah, uh … they took off.”
I loved that there was a certain shyness to him at the moment.
He suddenly became very interested in his phone screen. “Speaking of that, my friend asked for your number.”
I shifted my weight, uncapping my bottle. “What friend?”
“Josh.”
The same one he’d refused to give my number to earlier.
“Sure,” I said with a slow shrug. “He’s cute.”
I noticed the way his upper lip curled at that.
I recited my number, and he entered it into his phone.
He held it up when he was finished, grumbled, “Thanks,” and left the kitchen through the patio door.
That night, when an unknown number texted me, I didn’t expect it to be from Brooks.
One text started it all.
My phone vibrated beside me, and I reached for it way too fast.
I hated that a part of me hoped it was another text from Brooks.
I hated even more how disappointed I was when it wasn’t.
It was a text in my group chat with the girls.
Blair: Guess who’s engaged!!
Blair: *attached photo*
Before I could open the photo of her hand, a string of texts came through.
Seraphina: OMG! I LOVE IT!
Seraphina: Enzo was annoying and refused to show me the ring before you left for your trip. I’m proud my big brother did a good job.
Gemma: GORGEOUS! CONGRATS! So happy for you!
I was happy for Blair. Really happy.
But I’d also watched a Fawn and Son marriage fall apart before, and Blair was still new to this world.
Tonight wasn’t the night to rain all over her engagement parade. If shit ever did hit the fan, I’d be there for her.
I typed back.
Me: So happy for you!!! Can’t wait to hear every detail when we get back. Xoxo.
Adelina: Damn, good job, Enzo. Well done.
I clicked on the photo, zooming in on the ring and taking in all the small details. An oval diamond sat in a vintage setting with intricate metalwork under the stone.
It wasn’t just a ridiculously large diamond ring. I could tell Enzo had had it specifically designed for her. Knowing him, there were probably hidden details only Blair would ever notice.
Maybe there is a chance at a happily ever after for them.
My mind tried putting Brooks and me in their place.
Absolutely not.
The group chat died after we told Blair to enjoy her night and made her promise to spill every detail when she got back to SVU. We all sent our versions of goodnight and love ya GIFs, and then I made myself comfortable.
I slept with my phone beside my pillow.
Just in case Brooks texted.