No Prince

by Stevie J. Cole

“Well, that might change things.” Her finger trailed down my chest. “I do like a bad boy.” Most girls did. It was their kryptonite.

“I’m trying to decide where I’ll fuck you first.” His whiskey-laced breath fanned across my lips, causing heat to unravel in my stomach. “On the hood of your boyfriend’s shiny car or one I steal.”

“I don’t have sex, Monroe.” I leaned over, gripping the edge of the mattress while I inched close to her reddening face. “I fuck.”

I was no damsel, and Zeppelin Hunt was certainly no prince.

I keep thinking about kissing U.

Monroe rolled her eyes at him. “Your maturity never fails to astound me, Hen.” His wide-eyed gaze met mine. “She just called me a chicken!”

Lololol

Yeah. Right. Don’t forget who I am. A guy who used to be a player and was taken to his knees by a girl who stole his heart.

“God, you used to have so much game.” “No. I used to be the game, Roe.”

That’s what love did. It made people blind. It made people do stupid things. Like stay in Dayton…

“This is how you grew up?” He stared down into the drink. “This is messed up, Monroe. It’s like I’m in Deliverance. I mean, not that I’d mind if some hot guy in a wife-beater told me to squeal like a pig, but…”

He was no prince, but Zepp Hunt was mine. Always.