Chapter 12
BASH
The weight of Mama’s medical bills sat on my chest like a heavy weight as I tried to focus on the International Relations reading spread across our coffee table.
Three days had passed since our phone call, and I couldn’t shake the exhaustion I’d heard in her voice, or the careful way she’d avoided mentioning how much the latest round of scans had cost exactly.
I’d texted Dad, and he’d sent me the latest overview.
Eighty-seven thousand dollars. That was what we were looking at so far after surgery, radiation, and the first round of chemo, and she wasn’t even done.
The number kept cycling through my head like grid references burned into memory during a firefight, along with the knowledge that this job—protecting Eddie—was the only thing standing between my family and financial ruin.
It had been a long day already, and I was tired, lounging on the couch as I kept stealing glances at Eddie as he worked at our small table, completely absorbed in whatever he was reading on his laptop.
The late-afternoon light streaming through our windows caught the gold highlights in his hair, reminding me of how soft those strands had felt tangled between my fingers.
Christ, I was losing my mind.
Every time I tried to remind myself why getting involved with Eddie was the worst possible idea—my career, my family’s financial stability, his safety—all I could think about was the way he’d responded to my touch.
The sounds he’d made, the way his body had arched under my hands, the complete trust in his eyes as I’d learned what made him fall apart.
I’d never wanted anything as much as I wanted him.
Not just physically, though that was certainly part of it.
But also the way he made me laugh, the genuine interest he showed when I talked about home, the way he’d looked at me with such understanding when I’d told him about Mama’s cancer.
Like I mattered beyond being the person paid to keep him safe.
Which was dangerous thinking for about a dozen different reasons.
Glenn would’ve had something to say about that.
He probably would’ve reminded me that Pullers didn’t let personal desires compromise their duty, that there were bigger things at stake than what I wanted.
The thought made guilt twist in my stomach, but it wasn’t enough to stop me from wanting to cross the room and find out if Eddie tasted as good as I remembered.
“Bash?” Eddie’s voice cut through my internal spiral. “Could you come look at this for a moment?”
I looked up to find him staring at his laptop screen with an expression I’d never seen before—pale, tense, like he’d witnessed something terrible.
“What is it?” I asked, immediately shifting into professional mode as I moved to look over his shoulder.
Eddie turned the screen toward me, showing me a tabloid website. The headline was sensational:
Prince Alexander’s Secret Gay Affair Exposed – Exclusive Photos and Details Inside.
Below the headline were paparazzi photos of a young man who bore a striking resemblance to Eddie, with the same aristocratic bone structure and the same general build, kissing another man outside what looked like a nightclub.
“I assume he’s related to you?”
Eddie nodded, his jaw tight. “He’s my cousin, though we’re not close by any standard.
Alexander’s always been more rebellious than the rest of us, and I’ve dutifully kept my distance from him.
But this…” He gestured helplessly at the screen.
“This is exactly what the king meant when he said he wouldn’t tolerate any more scandals. ”
I read over the article, noting the salacious details about Prince Alexander’s secret relationship with a commoner, the speculation about other members of the royal family, and the promise of more exclusive coverage in tomorrow’s edition.
“How bad is this for your family?”
“Catastrophic. The king will be furious. The palace will go into full damage-control mode, which means increased scrutiny on all of us. Everyone will be watched more closely, their activities monitored, their associates investigated.”
“Could this mean you’d be asked to return home?”
I’d hoped for an immediate denial, but instead, Eddie let out a deep sigh. “I hope not. I really hope not. But if so, it won’t be an ask. It’ll be an order.”
“Can he force you?”
Eddie let out a humorous laugh. “Yes. He’s the king. His word is law.”
I had absolutely no framework for this. “In which way? You’ll have to forgive me for not understanding, but I’m obviously not familiar with how a monarchy functions. I thought the UK was a democracy.”
“It is. Of course it is. And legally, I can do whatever I please. I’m an adult and all that.
But in reality, I operate within strict limits of what the Crown permits, of what the protocol allows.
If I step out of line, the consequences would be…
” His voice trailed off and his face tightened even more. “Unpleasant. Highly unpleasant.”
I understood what he meant. Wasn’t it the same for me? Of course I could come out as bi and date a man. Legally, there was nothing anyone could do. But would it create major problems in my family? Abso-fucking-lutely.
I sank into the chair beside him, the full weight of our situation settling over me.
It had been all too easy to pretend that our fake relationship and growing physical attraction existed in a vacuum.
But the reality was that we were balanced on a knife’s edge, one recognition away from everything falling apart.
“This changes things,” I said, though I wasn’t sure how.
Eddie laughed, but there was no humor in it. “Does it? Because it feels like a rather stark reminder of what we already knew—that this entire situation is built on lies that could collapse at any moment.”
I hated that he was right. Every moment we spent exploring this attraction, every boundary we crossed, every time we forgot that this was supposed to be professional—it was all increasing the risk of exposure.
We sat there in silence for a moment, the laptop screen casting harsh light on both our faces. Pulling back was the right thing to do. The smart thing. The responsible thing that would protect my job, my family’s financial security, and Eddie’s safety.
But as I saw Eddie’s pale, worried face, all I could think about was how much I wanted to comfort him. How much I wanted to haul him against me and promise that I’d figure out how to keep him safe, keep us safe, somehow.
Eddie shifted in his chair, moving closer to me, and I caught that familiar scent—his aftershave mixed with something that was purely him—and every logical argument crumbled.
The space between us felt charged, electric with the same tension that always crackled between us.
The reminder of what we stood to lose should’ve been enough to make us both retreat to our respective corners.
Instead, it seemed to have the opposite effect, like knowing how precarious our situation was only made the attraction more intense.
“Eddie,” I said, though I wasn’t sure if it was meant as a warning or a plea.
He answered by closing the distance between us, his hand coming up to cup my cheek as he kissed me with the kind of desperation that suggested he was fighting the same internal battle I was.
I should’ve pulled away. Should’ve reminded him about professional boundaries and the risks we were taking and all the reasons why this was a terrible idea. Instead, I kissed him back with matching intensity, my hands finding his waist and pulling him closer.
“We shouldn’t be doing this,” Eddie whispered against my mouth, even as his fingers worked at the buttons of my shirt.
“No,” I agreed, helping him push the fabric off my shoulders. “We definitely shouldn’t.”
But neither of us stopped. If anything, the acknowledgment of how reckless this was seemed to fuel our urgency.
We made it as far as the couch before I was pulling Eddie’s sweater over his head, my mouth finding the sensitive spot where his neck met his shoulder that I’d discovered made him gasp.
“I’ve been thinking about this,” Eddie admitted, his voice rough with want. “About you. About what we did the other night.”
“Yeah?” I asked, my hands mapping the familiar territory of his chest. “What about it?”
“About how I want to try… other things.” His cheeks flushed, but he met my eyes steadily.
“Mmm, like what?”
Eddie’s blush deepened, but his voice was steady when he answered. “I want to taste you.”
Christ. The words alone were enough to make my vision go blurry around the edges, but the way Eddie said them, with such earnest desire, made my cock twitch with interest. “Hell, yes.”
He sank to his knees instantly.
I let my hands wander along the ridges of his ribs, finding the thrum of his pulse beneath soft skin.
Part of me expected him to hesitate, but he didn’t.
Instead, Eddie’s hands trembled with urgency as he unfastened my belt with the focused energy of a novice volunteer working outside his comfort zone, both eager and awkwardly earnest.
For a split second, I wanted to laugh, not because it was ridiculous, but because it was so goddamn endearing how determined he was to take control of the situation.
As if he’d spent the last several days steeling himself for this very moment, rehearsing what to do in the privacy of his room after I’d fallen asleep.
He pushed my waistband down and then paused, glancing up at me with a question in his eyes. It wasn’t the same look I’d caught before, the nervous, uncertain one. This look was pure trust, and the weight of that nearly unmoored me.
“You don’t have to,” I said, voice hoarse enough to betray how much I wanted him to.
His gaze never wavered. “But I want to.”
I lifted my hips and he dragged my pants and underwear down. My naked ass meeting the cold chair had me wince for a moment, but any discomfort was forgotten when I saw how Eddie looked at me. Or, more accurately, at my cock.