16. Christian

If there wasa word to describe my life, it would be wait. Wait for my dad to die so Phillip takes the throne. Wait for everyone older and more senior than me to go into a room so I can follow behind. Wait to be told what to wear, where to dance, what fork to use. Wait until things are different and maybe then…

Wait.

Wait.

Wait.

I was tired of waiting.

As the wheels of Kale's private plane touched down back in New York, I untangled our hands, which had been tangled together for hours, and stared at my fingers. I'd expected my hand to tremble in the air, for what I'd just done was the greatest act of rebellion I'd ever dared to imagine. The whole flight, between Kale's gentle kisses and soft touches, I thought about the words that made up my life before him.

Wait, of course, being a prevalent one.

Leave, being another that came up often.

Patience.

Expectations.

Tradition.

Roles.

Rules.

And it felt like a silly thing to measure my life as before Kale and after Kale, but since I'd met him on a New York sidewalk weeks before, I'd also known pleasure, adventure, and more commonly—and surprisingly—submission.

The conversation we'd had at Parrish's apartment before he decided it was a good plan to kidnap a prince felt like it had barely grazed the surface of some of the things we did together, some of the things he wanted to do. Because my whole life had been people demanding that I submit to them, that I concede and give over bits and pieces of myself so I could fit in the mold they'd built for me generations before my parents had even been born.

Then—Kale. And he had demanded a different kind of submission from me. One that was taking much more time and work to understand. The one thing I knew, though, was that I wanted it.

I craved it.

"Are we just here for a meal?" I asked, trying to act casual as the door to the plane opened and a gust of sharp city air blew into the cabin.

"I think that's entirely up to you," he said.

"Is this more of that ‘I have the control' thing?"

"Yes and no." His eyes sparkled and he held his hand out for me. "I don't know what it's going to be like for you to go home after this. Whether it would be better for you to stay a day and go back, or wait it out until they come to collect you."

I swallowed back bile because I didn't necessarily think one would be worse than the other. Both would draw equal amounts of scorn, but surely the punishment would be worse if I warranted an international search and recovery team.

"I don't think I have an answer for that, so let's start with a meal and we can go from there, I think."

"Do you want to rest awhile first? Get used to the time?" Kale led me down the stairs and straight into the back seat of a waiting black town car. As soon as the door closed behind us, it was like being sealed into a vacuum. The only sounds I could hear were our soft breaths and the incessant thrum of my pulse just beneath my skin.

"Are you taking me back to The Plaza?" I asked, leather seats creaking beneath my weight.

"I'd take you home."

Something about the word choice exploded in my chest like a barb, and I rubbed over my sternum, trying to soothe the unexpected ache that came with his broad usage of the word home instead of the personal. It was just…home. Not his home. A fantastical idea took root in the back of my head that one day I could have a home with him, but that was…

No.

That was a daydream too far because I didn't even know the man beside me beyond he made me come harder than I ever had in my life and he was sure nice to look at. I also knew he'd flown around the world to see me, then properly kidnapped me because he wanted to take me on a date without being interrupted by my security detail. Kale had shown me big things with small actions, and all of it added up to more than just sex.

"Home sounds nice," I said softly, even though I knew better than to allow myself the fantasy.

Even though I'd only used the stolen phone to communicate with Kale, and I was with him, the phone was still in my pocket. I pulled it out, swiping open the screen and pressing Parrish's phone number onto the keys so I could send him a text message.

Me: Can you do me a favor?

Parrish: Another one?

Me: Unfortunately.

Parrish: What do you need?

Me: I want them to know I'm gone.

Parrish: Have you lost your mind?

Me: Maybe, but once they know I'm gone, tell them I'm coming back.

Parrish: And when are you coming back?

I glanced at Kale, who was not even trying to hide the fact he was looking at my messages.

"How long had you planned on staying?" I asked. "Before we decided to leave?"

"Two nights."

I nodded, telling Parrish.

Me: I'll be home in three days.

Parrish: You…you're not at my apartment, are you?

Me: No

Parrish: You've lost it.

Me: Tell Niko I'll be home in three days. Tell him to tell my dad or Phillip or whoever. Tell Niko not to come for me. Tell him I'm safe here.

Parrish: It's his JOB, Christian.

Me: Just a few days.

Parrish: No promises.

Me: Thank you.

Parrish didn't say anything to that, and I knew I'd really have to make it up to him once I got home. He'd gone above and beyond for me the past week, the past lifetime. He never shied away from using his freedoms to get me the relief I was so desperate for. Hell, he'd gotten me Kale. It was just one more ask, and then…I'd deal with the rest of it once I was home.

"Your friend cares about you a lot," Kale murmured as I slid the phone back into my pocket.

The windows of the town car were tinted, but I could still make out the connected concrete and brick structures that reached straight up toward the sky. There were dozens, hundreds of people on the street, bustling past each other, paying no mind to anyone else. Maybe that was what I loved about New York, the anonymity of it.

"His father is my father's most trusted advisor," I said.

He snorted an amused sound in the back of his throat. "Is that a real thing? Not just in the movies?"

"It's a very real thing."

"Can I ask you a question I have no right asking?" Kale propped his head against the window, angling his knees and body toward mine.

"I think we're past the point of formalities."

He gave a weak shrug. "If you hate it so much, why don't you abdicate?"

"Abdication would be for my older brother or my father," I said.

"Or just…I don't know what the term is, but you know what I mean."

"I've thought about it a lot more since I met you than I had before," I admitted.

My cheeks burned, but covering them would have been too obvious. Officially stepping back from my responsibilities and duties as a senior member of the royal family wouldn't have been as earth-shattering as if Phillip decided to denounce his role, and in a way, I wondered if my own rebellion had already paved the way for me to make that decision for myself. Sure, I had charities and all of that work that came with my title, but was any of it really important? It wouldn't hurt anyone if I was to turn my back on it, but what would my life look like if I were to actually leave the palace? I'd never had the opportunity to live on my own before, to have a job, and even though I could still live off the family money without being active, I wouldn't want to do that. I'd hate feeling like I was taking advantage, but…

"Don't do it for me," he said softly.

I barked out a low laugh, the idea not as preposterous as either of us wanted it to be. "I'd never."

Kale nodded, like it had been an instruction given during one of our little games and I'd done my part in the whole thing.

"Good," he said, avoiding my stare.

"Good."

The silence turned awkward and heavy, like we both knew if he asked me to walk away for him, I'd do it without a second thought.

The drive from the airport to Kale's house took almost an hour, and he seemed content to let me wordlessly stew across from him for the rest of the drive. He fiddled on his phone with his right hand, left hand wound tight around mine as I stared out the opposite window. It was as if the last words spoken had carried far more weight than either of us expected, but they were in the open now and there wasn't anything either of us could do to take them back.

The car came to a stop alongside a curb, and Kale slid his phone back into his pocket with a sigh. Squeezing my hand, he waited until the driver came around to open the door.

"A short nap," he said, voice scratchy. "A little acclimation, then we'll eat."

"Then we'll eat," I agreed, stepping out after him onto the sidewalk.

Kale's house looked like every other building in New York. Too tall and too narrow, sandwiched tightly between two other buildings with a similar profile. But his was built from bricks with white framed windows and wrought iron flower boxes, a black front door, and a tiny little porch light. I didn't know what I'd expected for the interior, but it definitely wasn't the wide-planked wood floors and quaint homey feel the place gave off.

"Do you want a tour first or do you want to go to bed?" he asked, tossing his keys onto a small table in the entryway.

"Bed," I rasped, not because I was tired but because seeing Kale's home was more than I could bear. If I were to walk through the rooms and see his things, it would make him more real and that dangerous daydream would turn into something far too big for me to safely contain.

"Bed it is," he said.

I followed him up the stairs to a small bedroom with three tall windows and a painted brick fireplace. The floor was the same wood as the lower level, but he'd layered rugs on top of each other, overlapping shapes and colors and patterns beneath the simple king size bed that faced the fireplace. Anyone else would have looked at the room and said it lacked character, but I'd never seen a room that felt more like Kale to me. Even though I didn't know Kale at all.

"I have to catch up on some work," he said, pulling back the covers on the bed. "My office is one floor down if you need anything, but…you can make yourself at home."

"Don't threaten me with a good time, Mr. Sheffield," I teased, toeing off my sneakers and flopping dramatically onto his bed.

Kale breathed out on a smile, his entire body leaning forward like he wanted to crawl under the sheets with me, but at the last minute he went upright again. I smiled at him, eyelids closing in a slow blink. Maybe I was more tired than I'd realized, the whirlwind events of the past day finally catching up to me.

"Get some rest, princess," he said softly, taking a step back.

I reached for the button on my jeans, and Kale swallowed, shaking his head before turning away from me entirely and pulling the door closed behind him on his way out. It was easy to hear the echo of his footsteps down the hallway and then the stairs. The wood floors were gorgeous, but did little to muffle the sound. Then it was the low hum of his voice as he started a phone call, and I stripped out of my pants and my shirt before climbing under his blankets.

Kale's bed smelled like him in a near overwhelming way that made me sad and horny all at the same time. Rolling onto my side, I looked out the windows on the far wall, wondering if the trees blossomed in the spring and if so, what color were the flowers. I fell asleep quickly, the comforting sound of Kale's voice vibrating up through the floor, dancing with the legion of horrible ideas about a future with him that I knew I'd never be able to shake.