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He said royals was really a boring theme unless he could dress up like a princess. “I’ve been a prince all my life, what fun is that?”
When Lizzie and Tristan walk in together a moment later, I do my best not to act like a jealous weirdo. It’s okay: Creed does it for me. “You’re such a fucking fool, hanging out with another girl when you’ve got a beautiful girlfriend right here.” “Quiet, sloth,” Tristan snaps back, meeting Creed’s dark stare with one of his own. He might be a ‘charity case’, but the filthy rich brat inside of him is still there, waiting to rear its wealthy head. “Why don’t you go take a nap somewhere and mind your own business?”
I’m all dressed up in a white gown that looks a little too much like a wedding dress for my comfort, similar to the one I wore in San Francisco but with even more frills and glittery bits. When the guys saw me, I swear, Creed, Zayd, and Tristan looked terrified … while Wind and Zack looked far too excited. I’m honestly not even sure which of their expressions was worse.
“What do I get if I win?” Harper asks me, smiling prettily. She has a nice mouth. If she used it for something other than smirking, sneering, or scowling then maybe more people would notice? “There’s nothing you have, Working Girl, that I can’t get for myself.” “You mean besides real friends, a dad that love me unconditionally, and your ex-fiancé?” I quip, and Harper stands up, slamming her palms flat on the table. Becky stops laughing, and Ileana pauses to fix her boobs in her too-tight corset.
“You didn’t actually make all of this stuff, did you?” I ask, and Windsor gives me a weird look. “Why not? What else do I have to do? I’m a prince, for fuck’s sake.” Oh, well, okay. I suppose that makes sense.
“Come to my family’s estate in Napa. We’ll be celebrating … what is that grisly American holiday that celebrates genocide and racism, Thanksgiving is it? … yes, we’ll be celebrating Thanksgiving there. Mother will be attendance, if stuffy princesses are your sort of thing.”
“Oh come on, Marnye, don’t tell me her constant hounding of Tristan doesn’t piss you off.” “I, well …” I’m in polite company, so I may as well … “Okay, yeah, it frustrates me. I can’t get a second alone with him. She’s literally always there.”
“No, I mean that we’re all eighteen now. Not just me and you, but your other lovers as well.” “Lovers,” I say, feeling my face heat up. I guess Zayd, Creed, and Zack are lovers, aren’t they? Since we’ve had sex … Although I still haven’t quite braved the blow job yet.
“They’re all free to make their own choices now,” Windsor continues, drinking the rest of his wine, and then setting the glass down to refill it. “They might not like the options they’re given, but they have them.” “Who, specifically, are you talking about? Yourself?” I ask, and Wind shakes his head, pushing red hair off of his face with his palm, so that it sticks straight up. “Certainly not. I’ve already told you, I want to marry you and ride off into the sunset.” I snort, but the way Windsor York holds his face … makes me wonder if he isn’t at least a little bit serious.
“I mean all of them. Zayd, Creed, Tristan, Zack.” He stops talking, and I turn back to look at him. “I must tell you something, but you need to keep it quiet.” “Infinity Club?” I ask, and Windsor nods, searching my face. He’s done so much maneuvering behind the scenes to keep me safe, to keep me happy, to keep Charlie safe and happy. I owe him so much, this bully of bullies who strode in and chopped Harper du Pont’s ponytail off as a token of friendship.
“She’s a wealthy heiress to a massive hotel chain. The entire reason the Waltons didn’t want their daughter with a Vanderbilt—that is, their endless void of debt—is not so important now. It’s going to get paid off.” “Lizzie told me she won a bet against her parents, so that they’d consider Tristan …” “And she did, and they did. The marriage only just happened last week; I’m probably one of the first to know about it.” He finishes his wine and sets his glass down. “So … Tristan could choose Lizzie, if he wanted. And maybe then, his father would take him back?” I have no idea what to say, so I
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“Zack’s family want him with someone presentable, someone with good blood. Probably one of the very girls you’ve already ousted from the school—or will oust, more than likely.”
He’s telling me this because he wants me to know how hard their choice would be, if they were really and truly to pick me.
“Creed, well, you could probably have Creed if you wanted. Easily. Kathleen is essentially a Pleb herself, a self-made woman. She likes you, a lot. They seem like a nice family, too.”
“And Zayd, well, his grandmother won’t like you, but she doesn’t like her son much anyway either. Zayd could be with you, if he really wanted, but do you trust someone like that? A rock star?” Wind moves around the counter when I try to leave and blocks the doorway. “You’re being an asshole right now,”
“Then there’s me. I have my own fortune passed down to me from my father. It’s more than enough to live on, and have fun with, too. We can do all sorts of things together, Marnye, if you wanted.” “We’re only eighteen,” I whisper, looking away.
“No. I don’t give ultimatums to friends. Milady, I don’t care what you do with the other boys. If you want me to stick around, I’m here. I’ll give you whatever you want. And if what you want is to tangle those threads around your fingers, and drag them to Bornstead, fine. I’m trying to tell you that I’m not the problem.” “You’re saying you don’t care if I keep dating them, even in college?” My voice comes out a cracked whisper, half strangely hopeful but also broken and melancholic. Because college seems so far away, and I know that even if somehow, Windsor is offering me an impossible chance,
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I know I have sins to repent for, and giving you what you want isn’t one of them. Let’s go to Bornstead together, and I’ll hold your hand, even if someone else is holding onto the other side.”
“Think about my offer,” he whispers, one hand sliding up my waist to cup my breast through my shirt. He kneads the flesh, encouraging my chest to lift into his hand, offering myself up to him. “But also, think about everyone’s motives. Nobody is fully selfless at any given time. Think about my offer, too, and why I made it.”
He strokes its neck for a moment, and then grabs a handful of mane, mounting it and then quite literally riding off into the sunset. He certainly is the epitome of charming prince, isn’t he? Only … his horse is black, not white. Maybe that’s a telltale sign right there?
“Sometimes, we take pleasure in whatever we can. Nobody knows how much time they have left, Marnye. Either of us could fall off one of these horses and die today. Who says Charlie has less time left than anyone else? Let the man read his ending, and don’t let yourself fall victim to pity. He doesn’t want that from you.”
“Because he loves you. Pity does nothing for the one being pitied. It’s an empathetic agony to the one doing the pitying.
letting my dad win at checkers. I take notice of that because I know for a fact that he hates to lose. Despises it. It brings out that awful darkness inside of him.
“I missed you.” “Did you?” I quip, and his full, lush mouth curves into a smile. I’ve forgiven him for the Jalen incident. We all make mistakes, surely. But … I can’t stop thinking about what he said, about his father and grandfather. They want him with someone who has better breeding, more money. Surely I’m none of those things. And Zack and I, we have a tumultuous history. Yet when I look up at him and into his brown eyes, I feel like a woman who’s wrangled herself a bear. He has teeth, but they’re not for biting me. “I told you, Marnye, I love you.” He says it so plainly that I can’t help
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He parks, and gets what I’d really consider a triple frisking before security is satisfied. “They just profiled me,” he grumbles, but then, he’s a straight, white male so lucky him if this is the first time that’s ever happened.
“Hey, did you and Wind fuck yet?” he asks, and the blatant way he stares into my eyes with his emerald green ones makes me choke. “Seriously, Kaiser?” Zack scowls, but Zayd ignores him, putting his hands on his hips. “I’m just saying, it’ll be kind of hard to pick between us unless you’ve fucked us all. Chemistry is a huge part of like, love and all that romantic shit.”
“You want me to fuck Windsor and Tristan?” I ask, and both boys exchange a look before glancing over at me. “You haven’t fucked Tristan yet?” Zayd clarifies, and I give him a look. “I’ve been honest with you guys every step of the way, whether it’s just kissing or … something more. Don’t you think I’d have told if you that’d happened yet?” “Holy hell in a handbasket,” Zayd murmurs,
“I’ve got something for you in my pocket.” I reach down and accidentally cup his ass while I’m looking for the pocket opening, and Zayd whistles. “It was an accident,” I sputter, but he gives me this panty-melting look with half-lidded eyes and a sideways smirk. “Sure it was. But hey, consent is sexy, and I consent all the fucking way for you to grab my ass.”
Of course, Dad just happens to be standing there when he does it, right next to Windsor. “Marnye Elizabeth,” he breathes, his face a mask of horror. Because of Jennifer, I know how he feels about cheating, so I push away from Zayd and make him set me on my feet, so I can explain. “It’s not what it looks like,” I breathe as Zack comes to a stop behind me. I’ve got both palms up in defense. “Dad, I wouldn’t … you know how I feel about cheaters.” “You and Windsor broke up?” he asks, glancing over at the prince. Wind raises one brow and looks back at Charlie before turning to me with a slight
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“I’m … dating five guys,” I say, and what’s left of Dad’s eyebrows goes up. Dad … He glances over at Andrew, and he raises his own hands in defense. “Oh, no, not me. Definitely not me. I’m more likely to date five guys than your daughter—not that she isn’t fabulous, just …” He shrugs
“So,” Charlie starts, looking at Windsor then Zack then Zayd … “These guys and … the Cabot boy, and …” “And me,” Tristan says,
“No, I’m sure you didn’t, Mr. Reed, but if you can forgive me for speaking frankly, I’d like to reassure you that your daughter not only handled herself in a matter befitting a lady, but she also kicked our asses before she forgave us.” He tucks his sunglasses into his pocket. “Marnye has a big heart; she forgives too easily,” Charlie says, studying the group of them. “I swear, if you’re playing some sort of long game …” “Long game?” Zack ask, and Dad glances his way. A shock of adrenaline courses through me, and I lick my lips. If I said I hadn’t at least considered that possibility, I’d be
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“Sir,” Zayd says, shaking out his shoulders and exhaling. “I understand your concern, but I want you to know that … I’m in love with your daughter.” He grits his teeth, like this is one of the hardest things he’s ever done. “I have been since Halloween of first year, I just … we’re all mixed up in a bunch of bullshit.” Holy fuck, did Zayd Kaiser just announce his love for me? And in front of my dad, too? I’m not sure if I should swoon or maybe just curl up and die of embarrassment.
I’m in love with your daughter, too, and … I can never say enough about how sorry I am over what occurred in middle school. I’m willing to spend the rest of my life trying to make up for it.” Aaaand, another surge of emotion I don’t know what to do with.
“I’d also like to take this moment to profess my love,” Windsor says, putting his palm over his heart and lifting his chin. “It’s a royal proclamation.”
“I love your daughter, too,” he says, and I swear, if there was a single spot on my body that wasn’t red, it would be now.
Tristan turns away suddenly, closing his eyes. He’s the only one who’s not going to say it, isn’t he? “You don’t have to say that.” “It’s the truth,” Creed says, pushing blond hair off his forehead. “It’s … I’ve felt this way for a while.” Miranda comes up to stand on my other side, giving me a sympathetic sort of look.
“Okay then. Okay. My daughter has … five boyfriends.” He curses under his breath and shakes his head. “I’ll be damned.” He wanders out to the porch, pops the top of one of his fancy apple ciders, and looks out at the vineyard. “Well, that wasn’t embarrassing at all,” I whisper as Miranda gives me a huge hug.
The boys watch us walk out, but they know better than to follow. I need a minute. How the hell am I supposed to choose now? Fuck you, love. Like, seriously, fuck you.
“You know what my mom said when I told her I was a lesbian?” Miranda asks, and Creed rolls his eyes like he’s heard this story a thousand times. “She said thank god for that. Boys are so gross.” “Isn’t that a sexist thing to say?” Creed retorts, and Miranda spins on him, standing wet and dripping behind her as she tries to sunbathe. “First off, get the fuck out of my sun. Second, no. Don’t you understand that when women say all men are trash, it’s not hate speech, it’s just an anti-patriarchal movement that has more to do with the bullshit system rather than each individual dude on a personal
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Two filthy rich boys doing domestic chores. It’s kind … of cute.
“Pretty sure this whole game is about showing off whose cock is the biggest,” Zack says, eyes narrowed as he glances over at the prince. “Well, she hasn’t seen mine, but how about the rest of them?” Wind asks,
“I’m surprised you’re not wearing a red coat, considering your lineage and all that.” “Please, you Americans and your British insults. They’re nothing but sad. Frankly, I find them quite pathetic. If you were to really come at me, you’d know I hadn’t been laid in years, and you’d call me a fuck-useless tosser, and be done with it. Now piss off, and let’s start the match.” He gallops his horse into the field as Creed looks me over and offers up a smile that’s nothing sort of lascivious. “You’re scary, when you smile like that,” I tell him, but he seems to take it as a compliment
“Good. I want the whole world to know I’m not afraid to fuck them up if they mess with my uke.” I narrow my eyes on him, but he’s so damn full of himself, he just turns away and straightens out his red coat. “I am not an uke,” I grumble, because uke is literally a word derived from the Japanese verb ukeru which means to receive. And if you were thinking dirty, you were right. The uke is the one who, um, receives the anal sex in a male/male relationship.
Tristan finally makes his way out of the stable on the back of a gleaming white horse. I sort of feel like he and Windsor should switch; it would suit their personalities better. But then I see the way he rides, his back straight, head up, like a true aristocrat, and I shiver all over. In that red jacket no less, he looks like a king. A god. “Damn, if I were you, I’d want to fuck him, too,” Zayd murmurs,
“Alright, your highness, where’s my horse? Let’s get this battle started and shed some blood!” “It’s disturbing,” Creed drawls at her, eyes heavy-lidded, “how excited you are by the thought of violence. And Mom thinks I’m the bully in the family.”
I’m not much into sports, but watching my boyfriends ride around in sexy outfits on the backs of beautiful horses is a real treat,
The two teams are fairly evenly matched, with both experienced and inexperienced players (Zayd is a cutie, but he’s kind of useless, as is the security guard that got wrangled into the mix), and the score is close.
“What an insufferable brat your friend is,” he says, struggling to control himself. He hates to lose. Hates it. And he just lost on his home turf to Tristan Vanderbilt of all people.
“What are you doing?” “I don't know,” he says, closing his eyes for a moment before opening them back up. “When it comes to you, Marnye Elizabeth Reed, I haven't the slightest idea. I thought you'd be a fast burn, fun way to pass the time …” He steps forward, that daffodil and leather polish smell of his tickling my nostrils. It's mixed with that fresh sweat scent that brings to mind all sorts of naughty things we could be doing in the dark. “Instead, you've become a slow burn obsession.” “An obsession, huh?” I whisper, finding it very hard to breathe in the dusky warmth of the barn.
