Chapter 12: My Dark Prince: Chapter 11

Age sixteen.

Another summer, another rose.

“A purple-blue rose. The rarest color of all for a rose. Coincidentally, the color of your eyes.” Ollie dipped his head to kiss the back of my free hand, his gaze never wavering from mine. “And my balls all year-round.”

I laughed. “Pervert much?”

“Much. So freaking much, you have no idea. And you’re the pervert’s girlfriend.” Oliver plopped down beside me in a heap of bronze, muscular limbs. “What does that say about you?”

I arched an eyebrow. “That I have questionable taste in boys?”

Ollie’s chest rumbled with laughter as he bent for another quick kiss. I stared down at my plain top and jeans, wishing I had a chance to throw on the cute dress I’d sewn for this very occasion. His first day back in Switzerland. Seb had warned me that his brother would try to surprise me.

Still, Oliver had managed to catch me off guard on the edge of the lake, laying on the grass under the drowsy sun, tracing the shapes of fat, fluffy clouds with my finger. He’d tucked the rose into my hair, as he always did, propping himself on one elbow, staring at me with a dreamy grin.

I plucked it out of my hair and pressed it to my nose. “Where’d you get it?”

“Austria.”

I picked a velvety petal from the rose, rubbing it between my fingers. “Is it naturally blue?”

“Nope. They personally grow the roses with a special dyed water. They haven’t managed to breed this hue of roses yet. Trust me, I’m super invested in this start up.”

“Breed?” I snorted. “You just wanted to use that word.”

He rolled his eyes. “Guilty as charged, smartass.”

“Why are you invested in blue roses?”

“Because once they become a commodity, I’ll be able to send you some every weekend.”

It felt like he pulled the ground beneath my feet, teaching me that I could fly. Like I was floating in the air, under some kind of spell.

Oliver tugged the petal from my fingers and dragged it across the side of my neck, making my entire body bud into goosebumps. “Apparently, blue roses symbolize unrequited love and a deep desire that cannot be attained.”

I swallowed hard, my heart swimming in my chest. “Your love is not unrequited.”

He slid his nose against mine. “No?”

I shook my head, so our noses brushed together in a kiss.

“Good.” He gave me a quick peck on the lips. “Did you fall for anyone else during the school year? Is there anyone I need to kill?”

I almost choked on my laugh. Thus far, my time at Surval Montreux could only be described as challenging, to say the least. I stood out like a burger in a fruit bowl.

For one thing, I had no parents. The other girls smelled that weakness from miles away. Saw that I never strayed too far from campus, always staying during vacations and breaks while they chartered private jets to luxurious condos to spend time with family. My parents barely took my calls, and when they did, they used the sixty or so seconds to berate me for reaching out to our extended family members.

“You have to stop pestering my sisters,” my mother would scoff. “You’re wasting your breath. I’ve told you a thousand times, I am not in contact with any of them. They’re too jealous of our wealth and success.”

Didn’t matter. No one ever answered my calls. Eventually, I stopped trying.

My classmates made nicknames for me. Nerdiac, bookworm, weirdo, loner, and the one that stuck – Crier Rose, thanks to the time I got caught bawling my eyes out in a bathroom stall after my parents forgot my birthday. They managed to turn the things I took pride in – my intellect, my introversion, my sensitivity – into insults.

For another, I decided to throw myself into studying. If I didn’t have any family or friends, at least I’d have a bright future. I’d lie in bed imagining the life I’d have when I move to America. The friends, the dorms, the parties, the spring breaks.

I would make up for lost time. I’d create my own bubble of people who cared about me.

This will all be a distant memory.

Though I knew, deep inside, that trauma leaves permanent marks. Distance just lets us see how far we’ve come.

“Of course I didn’t fall for anyone else.” I popped a lollipop into my mouth, swirling my tongue against the pink sucker. My lips were swollen and probably cherry-red from the candy, and I knew he wouldn’t resist a real kiss. “Did you fall for anyone else?”

“Nope.” He grabbed my hand, peppering it with fluffy, feathery, deliriously happy kisses. His warm breath skated over my fingers, his lips grazing my open palm and knuckles. “I don’t think you understand. I’m so next-level obsessed with you that I don’t even tell my friends about you. I’m such a goner that the idea of other boys knowing about you makes me sick with jealousy. The other day, Romeo saw a picture of you on my screensaver and asked who you were, and I flat-out punched him.”

“Hmm.” I reached to kiss his lips. “Toxic masculinity, my favorite flavor in boys.”

I licked my lips, and he laughed into our kiss, trying to capture the tip of my tongue with his teeth.

“Boys?” he growled. “Plural?”

“Just the one. You.”

“Crap.” He sighed. “This is bad.”

He kissed my cheek. The tip of my nose. The edge of my lashes.

“What’s bad?”

“How entangled you are in my soul. It’s like … a hair ball. I can’t unravel it.”

“So poetic.” I snorted. “John Keats has nothing on you.”

“Don’t think about other men when you’re with me.”

“Ollie, John Keats has been dead for over two hundred years.”

He turned to kiss my bare shoulder. “Still not dead enough for me.”

My spaghetti strap pulled down to my elbow, the curve of my breast popping through the hem of the fabric. When he was here, I lived life to its fullest. Suddenly, I appreciated everything. The scent of flowers blossoming and sweet water running. The sound of birds chirping and the laughter of complete strangers as they, too, made happy memories.

“Are we looking at clouds?” he murmured into my temple.

“We are.”

I weaved my fingers in his, and it felt so natural, so right, like we’d spent no time apart at all.

I studied the sky. “I see a bunny.”

He pointed at a cloud across my left shoulder. “A massive penis.”

“Ollie.” I slapped a hand over my mouth, trying not to cackle.

“C’mon, you’re laughing because you know it’s true. It has a crown more royal than Prince Edward.”

“Now I’m going to punch you.”

“Don’t threaten me with a good time. Every time you touch me is a call for celebration.”

I stretched across the manicured lawn. A ladybug landed on the tip of my fingernail, and I let it explore. Oliver placed his chin on my shoulder. We both watched it, silent.

“How’s the sky?” He traced the path the ladybug took up my wrist, referencing what I’d said the night of our first kiss. Since then, he often asked this. “Still falling?”

“Not when you’re around.”

“Told you I’d hold it up.” His grin tickled my shoulder. “I was thinking …”

I scrunched my nose. “Thinking or fantasizing?”

“Both. Always both when it comes to you.” He captured my hand, interlacing our fingers after the ladybug flew away. “Our parents see each other every day and their summer houses are across from one another. Why don’t you come stay with us for the summer? You can take the pool house.”

I swallowed hard. Any other girl would tell her boyfriend that her parents would never let her spend an entire summer with a horny teenage boy, but in my case, I thought my parents would be relieved if I suggested it.

They still loathed the idea of me. Only now, it made sense. I was living, breathing proof of my mother’s infidelity.

Ever since I’d discovered Cooper’s existence two years ago, I’d searched for information about him. I hit a dead end every single time. The idea of broaching the subject with my mother frightened me, but I wanted desperately to find my biological dad. I’d played that night a million times in my head. My only regret was that I’d been too much of a coward to step forward and beg Cooper to take me with him.

Mom didn’t know me at all. I’d take instant noodles, dirty tap water, and a loving dad over whatever this was. Any day of the week. A full heart is worth more than a full wallet.

“I’ll see about it.” I flicked the lollipop in my mouth into the garbage bag with my bottled water and candy, watching the same ladybug land on my chest. It stopped when it felt it dip, then rise with a breath. Then continued about its exploration.

“It’s just a suggestion.” Ollie rose on his elbows, tucking a lock of hair behind my ear. “No pressure or anything, but every moment I spend away from you is torture.”

I scooped up the ladybug, resting it on the grass above my head before rolling to face Ollie. “What if you don’t feel that way anymore in two, three, five years? When you go to college and meet all those beautiful girls?”

“I meet beautiful girls every day.” He shrugged, and even though the words were meant to comfort me, to prove a point, they made my chest squeeze so painfully I couldn’t breathe. “No one is going to be as pretty as the girl I’m in love with. That’s just science.”

It wasn’t the first time he’d told me he loved me. He’d said it last year, over the summer, when we skinny dipped in the lake.

I knew that he meant it.

I also knew that feelings, like seasons, had the tendency to change.

“Hey, you, look at me.” He pawed my face, bracketing it with his big palms, staring deep into my eyes. His eyes were thunder crackling in my chest, splitting it in two. “I know what you’re thinking right now, and you need to unthink it, pronto. Forget about how young we are. How the odds are stacked against us. Forget about statistics, and life experience, and all the bullshit. Remember the things that count, okay?”

“What are those things?” I asked, proud that my voice didn’t waver. That it didn’t crack halfway through.

“That I’m yours. Completely. Unconditionally. Tragically. I will take your hate over anyone else’s love. Your anger over anyone else’s compassion. Your tears over anyone else’s smiles. A moment with you over anyone else’s forever. You’re the one.”

He leaned forward, his mouth crashing against mine, in a kiss that was slow, and pure, and reassuring. I tasted like cherry lollipop, and he tasted like sweet summer and forever. The grass blades tickled our ears. He opened his mouth, his tongue sliding against mine, his fingers gliding up the nape of my neck. His short nails grazed my scalp, making goosebumps bud across my skin.

My nipples puckered under the fabric of my flowery summer dress. I wasn’t wearing a bra. I knew Ollie could feel it. I felt him, too. A moan escaped my throat as our tongues danced, tasting, teasing, searching. We molded together, the sun licking at our bare skin, and in that moment, I felt invincible. There was no obstacle too big. No problem too fatal. Not when I had Oliver by my side.

If the sky fell, he’d hold it up.

“You’re my one, Briar Rose,” he whispered into our kiss. “And my goddamn only.”