Chapter 12

Chapter

Twelve

brIAR

I'm proud of myself.

My roommates left an hour ago for pre-drinks and the Vibes party, and I'm exactly where I want to be.

And this time, I told them. No more maybe or ummm or we'll see . Just I don't want to come tonight. Which is only true for one of the definitions of the word come … but they don't need to know that.

Despite the rain outside, my window is cracked open enough to be pushed the rest of the way. And I left my bedroom door unlocked, too. That way, Prince has his choice of entrances… so to speak.

Thump .

The front door slams open and hits the other side of my bedroom wall. My whole body twitches with surprise like a fish marooned on the rocks, and then I catch myself.

Damn it, I'm supposed to be asleep!

I collapse into the pillows again, flailing around as I try to artfully-yet-casually arrange all my limbs on the mattress.

"Briiiiiar!"

My heart instantly sinks.

Shit. That's not Prince. It's Robby, and he's hollering at the top of his lungs, hammering on my bedroom door.

"Hey, old man! Wake up!"

Shit. Did something happen at the bar? "What? Give me a second!" I call back, worry rising in my throat as I scramble to find my boxers.

It's only been an hour. What the hell could have happened for him to come back? For me, of all people? Among the many other things I'm not : a first aider, legal expert, or bondage professional.

I'm just tugging my waistband into place when I hear laughter echo in the front hall.

"Assholes," I grumble, marching for my bedroom door. I can't believe I was actually worried for a second. They'd better have a good reason for interrupting my private time—er, I mean, sleep —tonight, of all nights.

I wanted everything perfect and ready for Prince… including me. And thanks to these dumbasses, my hard-on has basically fled to start a new life abroad.

"You'll wanna hear this?—"

"Hear what?" I demand, yanking open the door. I'd like to think I'm glaring at them, but I'm really just blinking like an owl into the blinding hallway light.

"This!" Robby shoves something into my hand. They're suddenly all quiet—or as quiet as they can be when the air is crackling with excitement.

"It better be a winning lottery ticket," I grumble as I squint down at the paper in my hand. It's a flyer for tonight's party—and it's weirdly sticky.

"Ew!" I shove it back at Robby. "Has this been spunked on?"

"No, dumbass. It's ice cream."

"And that isn't a euphemism for a Canadian's cumshot," Robby cheerfully clarifies. "But no—look!" He jabs a finger at the photo in the middle of it.

I roll my eyes, look down, and…

My heart just stopped.

Shit.

No. No way. I feel like I've seen a ghost.

I rip the flyer right out of Robby's hands to look closer. I want to shake my head, but I'm almost frozen to the spot.

I know the man looking up from behind a DJ deck like he's irritated by the camera's presence.

The headliner tonight is none other than the Daddy-turned-wicked fairy. And pushed up on his forehead so he can see is a feathered red-and-black mask.

His name is DJ Prince. As in… my Prince.

"Holy shit," I breathe out.

My friends are all waving their hands and talking at the same time, but I can't pick out voices over the thunder of my heartbeat in my own ears. And I feel like I just got hit by a freight train.

All along, it was the same guy? I should have known. It was too much of a coincidence.

I just didn't want to see it. But it makes sense.

That's why he didn't want me to see him in the light. That' s why he picked me, of all people, to stop and talk to that first night we met.

Is this supposed to be a punishment for how we treated him? Am I just some kind of joke to him, or a game?

My friends are slowly realizing something is wrong. They're elbowing each other, hissing under their breath until they're all just silently staring at me.

"Briar…?" Robby's brows furrow in confusion. "We—We thought you wanted to talk to him…?"

I do. I mean… I did . A few days ago, I would have jumped for joy and kissed them all.

But now…

Now, I feel like I've given so much of myself—my innocence, my desire, my heart—to a man who was laughing at me all along.

"What—" Robby whirls around, and then I hear it too.

There's a noise outside. The front door handle is rattling softly, like someone's just put a key into the lock.

All my roommates are staring at the front door. I'm frozen in my bedroom doorway, the only one who knows who's there.

Prince is about to step right into the light.

I'm so fucking scared that I'm right about this. I'm scared that the truth that's about to be exposed will break the fairytale spell between us—and break my heart.

But it's too late to change course.

The door opens, and here he is.

The Prince who stepped through my window and into all my daydreams... even the soft, tender ones I barely hoped for.

He's standing at my front door, illuminated by the beam of light that spills out into the evening. And he's even wearing that same fucking red and black feathered mask.

"You?" Robby exclaims. "What the hell?"

Prince stops in his tracks, clearly taken by surprise. Behind the mask, his eyes dart between all my roommates… and then they land on me.

I recognize those stormy gray eyes now—the slope of his shoulders, the smell of his cologne, all of it.

His eyes soften as soon as he sees me, but my jaw is just growing tighter and tighter.

Prince looks down at the flyer in my hand. His lips slowly part, his shoulders go stiff, and he looks back up at me like a cornered animal.

"Tell me I'm fucking wrong," I breathe out.

Was it a prince or a wicked fairy sneaking through my window, whispering sweet promises in the dark?

I don't even know if there's a difference anymore.

"DJ Prince," Jeff murmurs as my roommates start to put together the pieces. "You're that guy from the bar? And the coffee shop?"

With one shaking hand, Prince pushes the mask up and off to sit on top of his head. "I am," he says, talking to them but looking at me.

"Jesus Christ." My whole body seems to collapse as I sag against the door frame. "Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck ."

The sweet-tongued prince who came for me in the dark is the prickly Daddy who came for me in the light.

At least I know why I liked them both so much. Because I was falling for the same man all along… and he knew it.

He just didn't want me to know.

" Fuck ," I breathe out, and Prince still says nothing, just watches me with that guilty look.

My heart twists so sharply that I think it might have just snapped in two. My hand flies up to my chest like I'm suddenly trying to keep all the pieces of my heart in place.

As Robby draws himself up to his full height, he turns up the volume on his voice. "What the fuck are you doing in our house ? Are you stalking him?! I swear?—"

"I-I can explain," Prince murmurs, holding up a hand. "But you might want to hear it from him first."

Suddenly everyone turns, staring at me for some explanation, when it was Prince who knew what the fuck he was doing all along.

Prince stares pleadingly at me, but I shake my head slowly.

"N-No," I breathe out, my throat seizing up.

I don't even know what I'm saying no to.

No, this can't be true? No, I don't want to give you another chance? No, I'm not going to explain why you had the lockbox code for our house?

Or… all of the above?

It hurts like hell to see the look on his face—a look that tells me he knew damn well that he wasn't acting like the hero of my story. Despite all his pretty words, he was the one keeping me in the dark.

Robby huffs, glaring and bristling at Prince like a wild boar prepared to charge. "Briar?" he asks.

Fuck. Now he knows my name. But I guess it's too late anyway.

My eyes are still locked on Prince. The world is going blurry with tears, but I still can't miss the movement of his soft lips forming the shape of my name… mouthing it like a prayer.

I don't want to hear him say it out loud. It would hurt too much.

"Get out," I breathe out.

My hands are curled into fists all of a sudden, my whole body stiff with outrage and disappointment and fear.

And a bone-deep humiliation that, for the first time, doesn't feel good.

"But—"

"Get out ," I snap, so loudly that even Robby jumps. "Now!"

Prince's face crumples.

That look makes my heart explode into even tinier fragments, and I wish it didn't. I wish I could just be so pissed at him that nothing he says or does can slip in past my defenses and touch me again.

But I feel his pain on top of my own, and I can't stop the tears spilling from my eyes, running down my cheeks.

Prince stumbles backward off the step. He takes another pace back toward the gate, still staring like he can't quite believe what he's hearing. Like he's hoping I'm about to change my mind.

I shake my head.

Prince's shoulders crumple. He tears his gaze away from mine, whirls on his heel, and shoves his way back through the gate to vanish into the night.

"And don't you ever try and sneak back in here!" Robby hollers after him, stomping to the gate and shielding his eyes against the rain to watch him go.

Then he storms back in and slams the door.

I'm still blinking back my tears, but suddenly I'm being steered to the living room, pressed into a chair, handed a mug of hot chocolate.

Someone's telling me to drink up so I don't go into shock. I nod automatically and sip, still staring into space.

I'm gradually becoming aware that my friends are all talking over each other in a clamor of voices.

"What the hell is going on?"

"He's fucking stalking Briar, dude. I can't believe it!"

"I can. I knew he was up to no good."

"How'd he get the code?"

"Should we report him?"

"Who used the lockbox last? Did they scramble it afterwards?"

My head is whirling.

No. No, I'm not doing this again—going along with everything.

I suck in a quick breath and set down my drink. "Wait."

Kurt glances at me, then nudges Robby, who's talking loudly about a video doorbell.

I'm going to have to speak up if I want to be heard.

The Prince I've always dreamed of… if he ever existed… he'd be proud of me for doing this.

That hurts even more. I swallow hard and curl my hands into fists again as my throat goes tihgt.

The old Briar would have just let them keep talking, so long as I never had to think about it again.

But I'm not that guy anymore.

Of course I'm nervous about it. I'm not busting at the seams to admit that Prince has been sneaking through my open window to ravish me while they all thought I was having wholesome early nights in bed.

But a wise Daddy—or a wicked fairy, or just a cruel prince—once told me that everyone wants to know and be known.

I'm not just a vessel for him, or for anyone else. I have dreams of my own. Some of which happen to be pretty fucking filthy... and I'm trying to be proud of that.

That means waking up and learning how to let people in through the front door.

"Wait!"

Silence falls as everyone stares at me. I gulp another mouthful of hot chocolate for fortitude, and then I draw a breath.

"There's something I haven't told you."