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That was one of the shitty aspects of being single. No one to touch, no warm body to cling to on a cold night in bed, no one to complain to when things didn’t go your way.
“You’re going to burn in hell,” I muttered. “As long as they have an espresso machine, I’m cool with it.
It was the single most intimate and erotic experience I’d ever had. And I couldn’t help but wonder if it would remain so for the rest of my life.
But most of all, when I limped out of bed the next morning, I heard the quiet echo of his last words mumbled into my hair in the middle of the night. I’m not sure I can live without you.
“If you don’t get your scrawny ass down here, I’m quitting the royal service and he can dress himself. I’d be just as happy dressing the rich and famous at Hermès.”
“I really care about him, Grandpa Wilde,” I said quietly. “When I left him at Gadleigh, it was like I left one of my lungs there too. I can hardly breathe.”
“He’s such a good fucking human being, you know?” I added in a rough voice. “So beautiful. His heart is so pure. He deserves so much.”
That was my heart right there, and it was walking around free as if it didn’t belong in the center of my chest.
