More on this book
Community
Kindle Notes & Highlights
“What?” she says. “I want to be prepared for my first-ever royal wedding.” “You went to prom, didn’t you?” Alex says. “Just picture that, only in hell, and you have to be really nice about it.”
He’s too perfect. Alex wants to poke it.
“Sugar, I cannot express to you how much the press does not give a fuck about who started what,” Ellen says. “As your mother, I can appreciate that maybe this isn’t your fault, but as the president, all I want is to have the CIA fake your death and ride the dead-kid sympathy into a second term.”
So, you can hate the heir to the throne all you want, write mean poems about him in your diary, but the minute you see a camera, you act like the sun shines out of his dick, and you make it convincing.”
“Do you see what I mean now?” Alex says. “This dude is reading Charles Dickens … for pleasure.”
Whatever, fine. Henry is annoyingly attractive. That’s always been a thing, objectively. It’s fine.
One does not foster a lifelong love of Star Wars without knowing an “empire” isn’t a good thing.
HRH Prince Dickhead
It’s intimidating and thrilling, living up to that kind of rich, untouchable fantasy. That’s what people see, but none of them know about the Great Turkey Calamity. Only Alex and Henry do.
“I mean, er, should we, I dunno, slow down?” Henry says, cringing so hard at himself that one eye closes. “Go for dinner first, or—” Alex is actually going to kill him. “We just had dinner.”
God, if any ghosts of Founding Fathers are hanging around the White House tonight, they must really be suffering.
“I don’t actually care,” he says, and grabs Henry by the stupid collar of his stupid polo and kisses his stupid mouth.
“I suppose so. Thank you. For listening.” “Yeah, of course,” Alex tells him. “I mean, it’s good to have times when it’s not all about me, as tedious and exhausting as it may be.”
“I want,” he says, “to do the absolute last thing I’m supposed to be doing right now.” Alex juts out his chin, grinningly defiant. “Then tell me to do it, sweetheart.”
“This has been going on for seven months? That’s why you—Oh my God, I thought you were getting into international relations or something.” “I mean, technically—”
Thinking about history makes me wonder how I’ll fit into it one day, I guess. And you too. I kinda wish people still wrote like that. History, huh? Bet we could make some.
The phrase “see attached bibliography” is the single sexiest thing you have ever written to me.
“How’d she take it?” “I mean, she doesn’t care that I’m bi. She kind of freaked out it was him. There was a PowerPoint.”
“Sometimes you just jump and hope it’s not a cliff.”
Henry leans down to meet Alex’s mouth, and Alex is. Well, Alex is so in love he could die.
“Yeah?” Alex says, still yelling. “How ’bout I just keep yelling and we see which of the papers show up first!” He turns back to the window and starts flailing his arms too. “Henry! Your Royal fucking Highness!”
“I never thought I’d be stood here faced with a choice I can’t make, because I never … I never imagined you would love me back.”
Alex turns away from him, falling back on his heels like he’s been slapped. “Fine,” he finally says. “You know what? Fucking fine. I’ll leave.” “Good.” “I’ll leave,” he says, and he turns back and leans in, “as soon as you tell me to leave.” “Alex.”
He realizes, suddenly, Henry’s crying. He swallows. That’s the thing: he doesn’t know. He doesn’t know if this is supposed to be some kind of consummation, or if it’s one last time.
Don’t miss it this time. He’s too important.
Henry huffs a laugh. “You’re one to talk. I wasn’t the one who stormed the palace in a fit of pique to call me an ‘obtuse fucking asshole.’” “In my defense,” Alex says, “you were an obtuse fucking asshole.”
but trying to give you up this week nearly killed me. And when I woke up this morning and looked at you … there’s no trying to get by for me anymore.
One day. If there’s any legacy for me on this bloody earth, I want it to be true.
“I don’t think I told you, but she, uh. Well, when she fired me, she told me that if I wasn’t a thousand percent serious about you, I needed to break things off.” Henry nuzzles his nose behind Alex’s ear. “A thousand percent?” “Yeah, don’t let it go to your head.”
“Diaz, you insane, hopeless romantic little shit,” says the voice of the President of the United States, muffled in the bed. “It had better be forever. Be safe.”
And then, inexplicably, you had the absolute audacity to love me back. Can you believe it?
AN INCOMPLETE LIST: THINGS I LOVE ABOUT HRH PRINCE HENRY OF WALES
19. The way you look when you first wake up (I know I already said this, but I really, really love it). 20. The fact that you loved me all along.
I didn’t even know what you were offering to do to yourself. God, I want to fight everyone who’s ever hurt you, but it was me too, wasn’t it? All that time. I’m so sorry.
I love him, with all that, because of all that. On purpose. I love him on purpose.”
And he does the thing Alex loves so much: He sticks his chin out, steeling himself up. “I’m not a coward,” he says. “And I don’t want to fix it.” Philip slants a harsh, humorless laugh at him. “You don’t know what you’re talking about. You can’t possibly know.” “Fuck off, Philip, I love him,” Henry says.
“For what it’s worth,” he says to Philip, “that is the bravest son of a bitch I’ve ever met.”
