Prince Player(138)

Soon, our meals are finished, and we’re leaning back, stuffed to the brim.

“What did you think?” I ask her. “Best food ever, right?”

She nods. “And enough to feed a horse.”

“Easily. Two horses, I bet.”

She grins. “I like it here.”

“I’m glad. I love this place.”

I’m about to ask her something else about her life when suddenly the door opens. I’m expecting the waitress, but instead it’s a man I don’t recognize, tall and thin, wearing a suit and an overcoat.

Sadie turns to look at him. “Reginald?” she asks. “What are you doing here?”

“Excuse me, Miss Sadie, but it’s time.” He nods at his watch.

She narrows her eyes. “We just finished. We’re having a nice time.”

I feel a thrill run through me.

“I’m sorry, Miss Sadie,” Reginald says. “But your parents expect you promptly at ten.”

She looks surprised. “It’s that late already?”

Reginald nods. I check my watch, and sure enough, two hours slipped past without us realizing.

“Well, then,” I say, knowing when it’s time to let things take their course. “We should say good night.”

She nods and stands up. I can tell she wants to say something, but I don’t give her the chance.

“I had fun,” I say.

“Thanks,” she says awkwardly. We’re both aware of Reginald watching, his disapproving stare making her squirm a little.

I just ignore him. “Call me sometime. I had a good time.”

“Okay,” she says, pausing. “Good night.”

“Good night.”

She glances back at me as Reginald sweeps her away, taking her out of the room. I watch her leave and feel disappointed. It doesn’t occur to me until she’s gone that I never gave her my number.

I don’t know what I expected. That date went well, very well. I couldn’t have hoped for more, not on a first date, let alone one chaperoned by her family driver.

Still, I wanted more. I wanted to bend her over that table and fuck her goddamn brains out. She’s so uptight but I can see the freak underneath that fake classy exterior. I know she wants it as much as I do, but her breeding and the way she was raised is holding her back.

I’ll break that, though. I know she’ll call. She’s too fascinated by what I said earlier, even if it did make her a little mad. She’s never been talked to that way before, but she wants more.

I’m willing to give it to her. But I have to be patient. She’ll come to me, sooner or later. And if she doesn’t, I’ll find a way to get what I want.





4





Sadie





Breakfast in the Tillman household is practically a spiritual thing.

I wake up early, my mind still buzzing over my date the night before. I blink at the weak morning light filtering in through the gauzy white curtains and sit up. My bed is huge, a four-poster, probably an antique. I’ve been sleeping in it since I was a kid, and I suspect that my mother gave it to me as some kind of princess fantasy fulfillment for herself.

I love my little corner of our apartment. I have my big beautiful bed, my little desk with my laptop, my dresser, and a deep walk-in closet. I don’t have a television, because that stuff can rot my brain, according to my father, but that doesn’t matter. I spend most of my time in here, because there’s one more special thing that I love even more than everything else.

I get up and stretch, then head into my closet to throw some clothes on. I turn on the light and grab some sweats and a t-shirt before turning to the other side of the closet.

The wall is covered with shelves, and the shelves are full of books. It’s basically my own little library. My father converted my closet into half a bookshelf when I was younger and he realized that I loved reading. So half of my closet has all my clothes, and the other half has all my books, and it’s basically heaven. There’s a big, thick cushion on the floor in the back left corner and some candles sitting on the shelves. Sometimes, I come in here and light the candles and leave only a single weak lamp on as I curl up in my little nook and read.

I smile to myself as I head down toward the kitchen. Our apartment takes up two whole floors in a nice building right downtown, and it’s been in our family forever. The place looks like it was decorated in another century, because it really was. Old oil paintings hang on the walls and they sometimes clash with the more modern flourishes my father has put in place since he inherited the family home.

I pause at the top of the steps. I can hear voices downstairs, my family all sitting down at the table to eat. I think back to my date with Gavin and I can’t help but smile.