Miles nods. "Is she?"
"Sort of. We haven't talked about guys in a while. I've been trying hard not to think about anything but midterms and medical school."
"Have you made any decisions about where you're applying?"
"Not yet." I pull my gaze back to Miles's eyes. There's so much in them, so much I'm never going to figure out. "But I don't want to think about it tonight."
"Princess, I think you might be taking advantage of me."
My lips curl into a smile.
"Just because you're royalty, that doesn't mean you can use me for my body. Even if I am a scoundrel."
"No?" I take his hand and place it over the curve of my hip, so his fingers graze my bare skin. "You're not desperate for me to take this off?"
He shakes his head.
"So you're desperate for me to leave it on?" I press my body against his. "You have a fantasy of screwing the princess?"
"You sure this is what you want?"
I nod.
"Then let's go."
"Where?"
"My place in Malibu."
"Now?"
He stands and offers his hand. "Hey, Princess, I've got the fastest ship in the galaxy. I can get you wherever you want to go in the blink of an eye."
"You mean the death bike, don't you?"
He smirks. "You'll hurt her feelings."
Chapter Twenty-Two
I change back into my clothes for the ride to his place. It's still freezing and terrifying on the motorcycle. But that's nothing compared to all the feelings stirring inside me.
We spend the night on the couch, watching science fiction movies. Truth be told, there isn't that much watching going on. Mostly kissing, touching, fucking. It feels amazing, being this close to him. It's like we're in our own little world. Our own bubble.
Like nothing can bring us down.
We spend the night together in his bed. Spend the morning on the couch, sipping coffee and kissing and not really watching The Matrix movies.
The house is beautiful and bright but this time, it's touchable. It's intimate. It's mine. He's mine. I know he's not, that we agreed to keep this all benefits, no friendship but it feels like he's mine.
I press my lips into his. He tastes good. His legs feel good between mine. His chest feels good against mine.
But there's this sound. This annoying melody. It's familiar. It's loud. Dammit.
That's the ringtone I assigned for my parents. And I've been dodging their texts for weeks. There's no more dodging. Once they escalate to phone call, they call and call and call.
"Sorry, I have to take this." I push off the couch and grab my phone. Deep breath. "Hey, Mom. How are you?"
"I've been worried. Did you get my message about Thanksgiving?"