Chapter 14

Chapter

Fourteen

brIAR

I can't believe I'm doing this.

"Are you sure this is enough to get me in?"

We're all huddled together in the lineup for Vibes. Two of my friends are holding umbrellas, trying to keep the rain from dribbling down between them, but it's a losing battle.

My friends are all in elaborate latex and leather and kinky stuff, and I feel like I'm showing up for a costume party.

"You're fine. Leave it alone," Robby tells me, smacking my fingers away before I can tug at the shoulder of my white toga. "Just look what everyone else is wearing."

I see partygoers who clearly understood the assignment, and others who just wore the same old stuff they always wear. I'll fit right in wearing Robby's toga, along with Jeff's lace-up gold boots and harness, and a feathered gold mask that Theo mysteriously found after last week's party.

"I'm not wearing anything underneath. That's kinky, right?" I quip, and they all crack up laughing.

It was sweet how fast they whipped up an outfit for me, the moment I told them I wanted to come with them. And I'm just surprised that I finally feel good coming out.

Maybe it's because, at last, they all know… and nothing's different.

I mean, they obviously teased me for being a freak. But no more or less than they all tease each other. It's nice to finally be included. I didn't realize how much time I've spent silently fretting that maybe I'm the real freak here.

Maybe our freak flags are a little different, but I'm not alone with it anymore.

There's his face again. The closer we get, the more copies of Prince Charming's face I see. The posters are plastered all over the windows, until it looks like he's staring at me with irritation from every which way.

I'm still not sure how I feel… but at least I know what I want.

I had to come out tonight to see Prince in his element… and hopefully talk to him one more time.

Earlier, I didn't act like my best self—like the man Prince has been teaching me to become. I was too lost in my own hurt to realize that, for a second time, I didn't stand up for him, or even for what I want.

That's not to say I'm not mad at him. Because I totally am. I don't know why he kept his identity secret from me… but I'm ready to hear his side of the story, too, before I make any hasty decisions.

I don't know if he'll forgive me, or if I'll forgive him, or both.

But I need to see him in the light—even if it's the glare of neon lasers—to understand something about him that I've never gotten to see.

We're at the front of the line now, and everything is a blur. I hand over my ID and cash, get them back, hold out my arms for the scanner, and laugh nervously as the security guy waves a wand and pretends to sprinkle fairy dust over me.

Then they wave me inside, and my friends point me toward the main room. It's already packed, and I can't help but be happy for Prince. If nothing else, at least tonight was the breakout hit he wanted it to be.

"You want company?" Robby leans in to holler at me, and I smile and shake my head. His eyes are already wandering to the darker side rooms.

I cup my hands around my mouth, next to his ear. "I'll be okay. Go have fun."

Robby winks at me and mouths, You too . Then my friends melt away into the crowd, and there's only one thing left to do.

I sidle into the room, hugging the wall until I can make out the DJ booth…

There he is. Under the dim lights, on the edge of the crowd, mask pushed up to his forehead again as he looks between the booth and his audience. He's not quite dancing, but he's moving with the crowd.

The closer I get, the more I can see him watching everyone yet no one, utterly in the zone. That must be how he looks when he's with me—responsive to the slightest change in the energy and desires.

That's how he anticipates my needs, like he's reading my mind.

It's one of his gifts—one of many. And I can't shake the feeling that I jumped to conclusions. There's a reason it seemed so unbelievable that he was lying to me, or playing games, or steering me the wrong way.

Because that's not what he meant to do.

I think he just forgot that I'm not a collective entity of an audience to be guided and steered from afar. I'm one person—one scared boy, one Sleeping Beauty who's only just learning how to wake up and go after what I want.

Now I know why I'm here.

I'm here to dance, and study him, and let his spell fall over me once more. From the middle of the dance floor now, there are too many surging bodies for him to know who I am… but I'm close enough to see him, standing alone behind the decks.

How the table turns. Or the turntables.

I just have to pray that afterward—when I approach him—he's ready to let me in.

I don't know how much time has passed. Hours, certainly. I've downed several bottles of water, and turned down quite a few guys hitting on me.

I've already got a date tonight… whether he knows it or not.

He doesn't talk very much during his sets. Whenever he does, his voice is that sultry, dripping-sweet honey I know so well.

And this time, I hear what I've been waiting for. He's thanking everyone, announcing a surprise guest DJ who's taking over the decks until the end of the night… and he's stepping away.

As the track changes and a cheer goes up, I quickly elbow my way through the crowd toward the front. Prince is melting into the shadows against the wall, staring across the crowd with a look I've never seen on his face before.

He looks wired, yet exhausted. He's pouring sweat and smiling, but there's a sadness in his eyes. I'm just steps away as he slips out from behind the booth, reaching up for the mask like he's considering pulling it back down.

I step out of the shadows and into his path.

God, he's taller than me. I had no idea until now.

Prince sidesteps automatically, nodding politely without looking at me like he's trying to turn me down.

There's no way he'll hear me say anything, this close to the thumping speakers. My heart pounds nervously in my chest as I step again to block his path.

He looks up this time—stares at me, past the flimsy gold mask—and then his jaw drops.

I don't even need to take off my mask. He knows me.

Prince reaches for my hand, and I let him take it to pull me towards the far corner of the room. He effortlessly strides through the crowd, and they just seem to part for him without even knowing they're doing it. It's something about his presence that makes them step aside for him—and me.

That's hot.

With every step, it gets just a little bit quieter. It's still loud by the time we reach the corner, but I don't think either of us can wait long enough to reach somewhere truly quiet.

He spins to face me, his eyes intensely burning with something I can't quite place.

"You came."

I nod as he studies me. He reaches out as if to touch the sweat sheen on my forehead, then hesitates. I bite my lip, nervous all over again as I watch him drop his hand.

"Been here a while?"

I nod again, fumbling with the ribbon at the back of my head until my mask slips off. "I had to see you." I fidget nervously, poking my finger through one of the eyeholes to spin the mask nervously around my hand. "You made me… wake up and open my eyes."

Prince hesitates, watching me with a small, guarded frown. "Did I? Or did I pull the wool over them?"

I wince, but I nod anyway. "Yeah. I know what I want now."

The hope on Prince's face is almost painful to witness. He bites his lip and shoves his hands in his pockets. But even my brave prince can't bring himself to ask. I think he's too afraid of what I might say.

If I didn't already know my answer, that would be my biggest clue… but I think my heart knew all along.

"I want you, Prince. I didn't have to see you to know that. Finding out who you were… it didn't change that."

I can see the breath rushing out of Prince's lungs as his shoulders slump with relief. He reaches out to take my mask from my hand, tucks it into his back pocket… and then he drops to his knees in front of me.

Holy shit.

My cheeks burn as I look around quickly, trying to see who might be watching us. I mean, I didn't think we were done this conversation. And we're right in public! Should we be picking up where we left off?—

Prince laughs loudly as he takes both my hands. From the grin on his face, he knows exactly what I was thinking.

Oh. I leapt to conclusions again, didn't I?

"I owe you an apology," Prince tells me, raising his voice and speaking a little slower to make sure I can hear him over the music. His lips pull down into a ragged, sorrowful frown. "Hiding the truth was wrong. I'm sorry, Beauty. I didn't mean to hurt you."

My chest goes tight and warm and fuzzy all at once. I lean down to wrap my arms around his shoulders, pressing my face into his hair to let him know that he's forgiven.

Then I tug him to his feet and wrap my arms properly around his waist, breathing in the sweat and faded cologne—the smell of Vibes, I know now.

"I just want to know why," I tell him as I press my face into his shoulder, swaying gently with him despite the pounding beat.

Prince goes still, and I pull away enough that I can see his face. And the look I see there… it makes me stop on the spot, too.

I just want to hug him until all the pain goes away.

"I… I'm used to getting rejected. With a face like this, you know…?"

My jaw slowly drops.

Fuck. Really? I never would have guessed that he felt insecure that way.

No wonder it hurt so much when I didn't stand up for him in the bar—or just now, at home.

I happen to think his face is suited perfectly to his soul. Maybe it's not conventionally beautiful, all artificial and smooth and perfect… but it's intense in exactly the right way. Every wrinkle and line is its own story.

As far as I'm concerned, he's fucking gorgeous.

"You—what? No. What?" Prince gives me a sheepish smile, but I'm not going to let him cut me off yet. "No," I tell him again, poking a finger into his chest. "I don't know what made you hold yourself back, but you're not allowed to use that excuse again."

He blinks at me like he's startled, and then he slowly frowns. "Yeah. Maybe you're right. It was something else…" he muses, rubbing a hand over his chin.

I think I know what it is, too.

Prince is easily among the hottest men in this room… so long as his face is this open and vulnerable. But I've just spent hours watching him look like a man hiding in the spotlight, keeping everyone happy but miles and miles away from him.

Maybe he's only been letting people see his walls, the dryness and sarcasm and distance. I saw flashes of it the first time we met at the bar. But I saw a lot more than that, too. And my heart aches for all the pain I didn't know about while we were in the dark.

"Listen," I tell Prince firmly, and he glances at me like he's surprised to hear so much resolve in my voice. "I want you. I don't want to hide you away in the dark. I want everyone to know that I want you—even my friends, when they're being overprotective jerks."

Prince manages a shaky smile at that.

It's my turn to try to sink to my knees.

Prince loops an arm around my waist, holding me up like it's second nature.

This is the man who took my innocence and my heart and gave me my future. No matter how much I squirm to tell him that I'm not falling and it's a deliberate maneuver… he can't even think of letting me go, just in case.

I clutch his shirt tightly in both hands instead, staring into those beautiful stormy eyes.

"I'm sorry, Prince. I swear I won't do that to you ever again." My throat is tight, and tears are leaking down my nose again. "I'm done trying to sleepwalk through life. I promise. If you want me…" I draw a deep, shaky breath. "I want you. God, do I ever want you."

Prince leans in, and even though I pucker up, he's not aiming for my lips. He kisses my nose, my forehead, both cheeks, my eyes… all over my face, until my tears slow down.

He thinks I can't see the tears in his eyes that way… but I can. When he finally leans down into me, resting his forehead on my shoulder, I grab my chance to hold him tight.

"Oh, Beauty. I've been waiting a lifetime to hear someone say that."

"I know," I whisper as his hands come to rest gently on my back, and mine on his. We're swaying gently again, ignoring the beat thrumming through our chests, and the crowd, and everything besides each other.

At last, I mumble, "It's Briar."

"Briar." Prince smiles slowly. "My beautiful Briar. I'm Prince. But I guess you know that now…"

I can't help cracking a grin. "Yeah. I think I saw your face somewhere. A wanted poster, maybe?"

"Funny," Prince snorts dryly.

I giggle, and at last I can't hold back the ear-to-ear grin. "Prince," I repeat, just like he did. " My Prince."

"Always," Prince swears, and then he pulls away from me to take both of my hands. "I'm free to go home." Then a mischievous sparkle appears in his eye. "Or the darkroom is right that way… or we can do it against this wall, if you're not too shy…"

"Shut up ," I snort with laughter. "I thought?—"

"Oh, I know what you thought, Beauty." Prince chuckles. "You have far too many dirty thoughts for a face as pretty as yours."

He's still grinning wickedly as I drop one of his hands and spin around to march for the entrance of this room. I don't remember where I'm going, but I know where I want to go: home.

"Too much time in the dark for you lately?" Prince asks, taking over leading the way before I can even ask.

"Yeah," I admit, glancing up at him. "I want to meet you in the light." Then I blush. "You can surprise me in the dark for round two, later. At home."

"Perfect."

Prince pulls me against him right in the middle of the doorway and kisses me so deeply that he almost bends me in two. I'm dimly aware of the whoops and hollers and cheers from nearby—and I can't stop blushing as I let go of everything.

At last, I sink into Prince's arms, and he catches me. He sweeps me clean off my feet, and even if I squeak with surprise, I trust him to know what I need. In yielding to him, I'm showing Prince—telling everyone, too, even without saying a word—what I need and want.

I want him. I need him to be the beast, the prince, and the fairy for me.

And I'm going to be his Beauty. I'm going to tell him every day that I want him. And I'm going to mend his heart until he forgets how to be wicked at all… except in the middle of the night, when I need it the most.

"Your castle or mine?" I ask him playfully.

He grins down at me. "You've shown me yours. I'd like you to see mine. It's on the second floor, so there's no climbing into windows. And definitely no climbing out of windows."

"We don't need windows anymore," I whisper. "Take me there, Prince."

I wrap my arms around Prince's shoulders, and he carries me outside into the warm, rainy night.