Chapter 25: My Dark Prince: Chapter 24

Age nineteen.

“Happy eighteenth birthday to me.” Briar Rose lifted her tequila shot skywards. “Bottoms up.”

She pressed the glass to her lips and tipped her head back. I did the same, searching her for signs of an impending breakdown.

Her parents hadn’t shown up to their Geneva home to celebrate her birthday – or her graduation. They’d left a message with the housekeeper. Something about receiving a last-minute invitation to Martha’s Vineyard from a rising senator.

Since then, Cuddlebug had erupted into a crying mess every other hour. So, I made the executive decision to pull her out of that house with the depressing memories soaked into its walls.

We took the train to Paris overnight to spend her birthday somewhere neutral. As soon as we got here, she dragged me to a shady parlor, where an inked-up goth girl tattooed her hipbone.

For her next conquest, she wanted to pump her stomach full of booze for her first legal drinking experience.

I arched an eyebrow, studying my distraught girlfriend. “Are you okay?”

She looked like something out of a Pinterest board with her blush sequin minidress and her hair up in a Chanel ribbon.

Briar Rose rapped her knuckles on the sticky bar, swirling her index finger for another round of drinks. “Peachy. Never been better.”

The bartender sidled up to us, dishing out four glasses for a flight. As we waited, Briar Rose snatched up my untouched shot, swinging it back like a pro. Our years of sneaking drinks here and there obviously hadn’t gone to waste.

She bit into a slice of lime, discarding it without a wince. “Thanks for coming here.”

I flung my arm over the back of her stool, searching her face. Legally, she could drink in France, but I knew getting shitfaced in the middle of a crowded Paris bar wouldn’t help her feel better.

I wasn’t prone to panic. But I felt pretty panicked right now. Briar Rose having shitty parents wasn’t news to me. However, seeing her defeated, frustrated, hopeless sure was. She usually kept her emotions at bay, resilient and steadfast.

“Of course.” I flicked the tip of her nose. “I wouldn’t miss seeing you for the world.”

She ran the tip of her finger over the rim of her empty shot glass, staring into the bottom of it. “But you weren’t supposed to come this summer.”

“It’s fine.” I swiveled in my seat, readjusting the blue rose tucked behind her ear with a smile. “There is nowhere else in the world I’d rather be.”

Calling the last couple days a shit show would offend shit shows all over the world. For the first time in fourteen years, my family hadn’t scheduled a summer in Geneva. Instead, Dad had rented a lake house in Central New York for a month.

Not for vacation. Nope. He made it clear he expected me and Seb to take part in an intense internship in Savannah. Within the next ten years, Dad anticipated handing over The Grand Regent to us, and he’d be damned if we drove the chain into the ground.

It was time. In a few months, I’d enter my second year at Harvard. Seb just finished high school early, too, so neither of us could worm our way out of it.

I planned to spend next month traveling Europe with Briar Rose before she joined me at Harvard. We’d officially made it. Or so I thought.

A couple nights ago, she called me in tears, hyperventilating over being alone in that damn house. I dropped everything and boarded a plane to Geneva, leaving a trail of disoriented staff, one very pissed-off Sebastian, and an overbearing father with smoke racing out of his ears.

I leaned over to kiss her forehead. “I came, anyway.”

She whipped her hair over her shoulder at the same time, unintentionally blocking my lips. I could still catch her breath. Stale, sour alcohol. I wanted to kiss away her drunkenness, her pain, her distress. Wanted to drink it from her lips. To carry the burden of her heartache.

“Well, Cuddlebug, I think it’s high time for dinner.” I clapped once, flashing her my winning smile. “Who’s with me?”

“Hmm. Toddlers, pensioners, and people who don’t own a watch?” She arched an eyebrow. “It is five in the afternoon. Screw food.”

“Glad to incorporate it into our sex, if that’s what you want. But you still need to eat.”

“Not hungry.”

“Baby, I love you more than porn, pizza, and cold Belgian beer on an August afternoon, but if you don’t pad your stomach with carbs, you’re going to spend the night at the hospital for alcohol poisoning, and that is a lame way to celebrate eighteen years on this planet.”

Briar Rose pouted and flipped the empty shot glass upside down, her chin propped on her fist. “I’m beginning to see there’s not much to celebrate, anyway.”

“Cuddlebug …”

She ripped her gaze from the glass, hanging her purple-speckled blue eyes on my face. A screen of tears covered them. “It’s true, though, isn’t it?”

My heart broke into a trillion fucking pieces. “It’s not.”

“I’m grateful to be going to Harvard with you. Grateful that, from now on, I’ll spend holidays with your family. And I am so freaking grateful for your devotion, your dedication, your love … but you’re just one person. You’re an island, Ollie. My island. My happiness, or lack of, is solely dependent on you. If you vanish from my life—”

“I’ll never vanish from your life.”

She smiled sadly. “If you vanish from my life, you take away the best parts with you. In fact, you take away the only parts I care to lose. You’re the best and worst thing that’s ever happened to me, Oliver von Bismarck. If I lose you, I have nothing left.”

There was nothing I could say to that. Her feelings were valid, and I couldn’t blame her for them. Her parents had thrown her in an all-girls school, where she didn’t fit in, thereby eliminating any chance for her to make friends. They never spent time with her, never introduced her to her relatives, and never bothered to fall in love with her. She was completely alone.

With the exception of me.

All I had to do was make sure I was enough.

I rummaged in my pocket for my wallet, threw a few bills on the bar top, and shoulder-tackled her midriff, carrying her out of the bar over my shoulder. Cuddlebug didn’t even protest. She might have been half-comatose at this point.

I barreled out of the bar along Rue de Rivoli, my girlfriend still flung over my shoulder.

“Hmm.” She grazed her fingernails over my back in a way that made my dick hard and my skin tingle. “I thought Rivoli was Italian, not French.”

I took a deep breath. “You mean ravioli, baby.”

“I want ravioli. You’re right. I need some carbs in me.”

You need some me in you.

And here came problem number two.

We hadn’t done the deed yet.

Well, not a problem per se. Our shared virginal status probably should’ve bothered me more than it did, but I couldn’t give any fucks. (All puns intended, of course.)

Up until now, it never felt right. Not when Briar Rose and I only saw each other eight weeks out of the year. I figured it would happen when she joined me at Harvard. There’d be dates. Movie nights. An unlimited amount of time to build that everyday intimacy. I was fine being a nineteen-year-old virgin, but twenty-year-old virgin was stretching it.

“God, your ass is so delicious.” Cuddlebug hiccuped, massaging my butt cheeks through my jeans in the middle of the busy street. “I want to bite it.”

“Compliments to the Smith machine. I never miss a leg day.” I tried to keep my tone light, searching for a restaurant that wasn’t too packed. It was summer in Paris, though. Everything was busy.

Another hiccup. “I think we should have sex.”

“I think you should eat, drink a gallon of water, and take an eight-hour nap,” I countered.

No way in hell would I have sex with this woman when she was in a vulnerable state.

“I know exactly what I’m doing, Oliver. Even if we break up tomorrow morning, you are still the only person I’d want to give my virginity to.”

“As happy as I am to hear this, Cuddlebug, no one is doing anything until you feel better.”

I spotted a small café at the end of the block and hurried toward it. We were drawing curious looks, not to mention a few scandalized glares from women who did not appreciate my parading a young woman in a minidress around like a prize.

The buttery scent of croissants assaulted my nostrils the second we walked into the café. (Well, I walked. She rode.) I claimed the furthest seat in the corner and ordered everything on the menu. Soups, sandwiches, desserts, smoothies, and coffee. Plus, two bottles of sparkling water. Then, I watched my girlfriend wolf down most of the table’s contents.

“Slow down now, Cuddlebug.” I stroked her hair as she ate like a woman who had just been rescued from living in the wilderness for six years. “The food isn’t running anywhere.”

“I’m not even that hungry.” She set her fork down and tipped her head back, closing her eyes. “I’m just trying to fill a hole inside of me. But no amount of food is going to do that.”

“You’re right. Food is not going to fill that hole.” I gulped, hating that the second we talked about holes and filling them, my dick totally thought about a different hole. “But good friends will. A new family you’ll start one day. You have so much more to live for. Your life has barely begun. And I can’t wait to take part in it.”

She stuck her pinky out, a glob of sauce on the tip. “Promise?”

I looped mine around hers and shook. “Promise.”

“It feels like the sky is falling.”

“If the sky falls, I’ll hold it up for you.”

Briar Rose grinned, satisfied by my answer, and proceeded to finish off the croissant.

After she cleared out every single plate, I took her to the nearest hotel room and tucked her on a settee in the lobby as I paid for a room. With the key card nestled in my front pocket, I carried Briar Rose honeymoon-style to our suite. By then, she’d long since knocked out, snoring against my chest, which pounded like a jackhammer.

My phone danced in my pocket. Dad. Or maybe Seb. They’d both decided to tag team me, riding my ass about bailing on the lake house. Sure, they liked Cuddlebug a lot, but they couldn’t understand why I had to drop everything just to be here. Not when she’d join me in America in a handful of weeks for freshman move-in day.

The handover, the company presentations, the board meetings. Dad threatened to hand it all over to Seb, which frankly, sounded like a good time.

Briar Rose and I thought the worst job in the world was being an empty suit. Her – because she blamed her dad’s work ambitions for her loneliness. And me – because I wanted to do something that made me happy. I didn’t know what that was, but she’d promised to help me find out.

The ringtone died in my front pocket, then restarted all over again as I maneuvered Briar Rose onto one arm and inserted the key card into its hole with the other. I kicked the door open and careened inside with my passed-out girlfriend still in my arms.

She hacked out a snore of gargantuan proportions when I collapsed onto the king-sized bed with her.

I fished my phone out, jerking my hair by the roots as I swiped the screen to answer the call. “What?”

“You’re fired,” Seb announced with an obvious Cheshire grin.

I shot up and wrestled my jacket off my shoulders, rummaging my pockets for my wallet. “You’re not my boss.”

“Not yet.” Sebastian tsked. “Dad is super pissed, though. He thinks you bailed for pussy.” He paused for a second. “In other words, he knows the truth.”

“That’s bullshit, and you know it.” I threw a glance behind my shoulder to check on Cuddlebug. Out cold.

“Even if I know it, Dad doesn’t.”

I found my wallet in my back pocket. “Don’t care.”

Truly. Not sure what difference the presence a nineteen-year-old college kid would make in the hostile takeover of a failing Savannah hotel. They’d survive without me.

And also, I’d never ditch the official internship to get laid. Even if it meant finally doing the deed with the girl I’d loved ever since I was potty trained. (She beat me to that by a whole six months, by the way.) Plus, Seb would make a better CEO than me anyway. My baby brother had the intellectual and analytical advantage over me, though I made up for it with stubborn drive.

“You should.” Seb paused for theatrics. “I convinced Dad to give me the keys to the North Oaks ranch at the end of the summer.”

“Motherfucker,” I seethed, stomping out of the room. Cuddlebug needed water and painkillers. Stat. “You knew I wanted to take Briar Rose there.”

I’d planned everything. I’d invite all of my close friends to the Minnesota ranch to introduce her to people I knew she’d get along with. Romeo. Zach. Some girls from Harvard that weren’t mean girls. Come fall, she would storm onto campus with a fleet of friends. It would not be a repeat of Surval Montreux.

Now Seb beat me to it.

He always had a competitive streak. Life was one big, fat race to him.

“You snooze, you lose, buddy.” My baby brother chuckled. The familiar crackle of a beer can opening accompanied it. The douchebag probably had his feet mounted over Dad’s office desk, his phone pinned between his ear and shoulder. “I have big plans for that ranch. Lots of parties.”

I blasted in and out of the elevator, pouring onto the Parisian street. “Yeah, yeah.”

“You know I’m a sucker for a good lake. I need to keep my rowing schedule intact for next season.”

I pushed the door open to a pharmacy, ambling straight to the stupid drunk tourist section, stocked full of painkillers, anti-nausea medicine, and small toiletry bottles. “You forgot to ask why I’m here.”

While I considered Romeo and Zach my closest friends, Sebastian had been born to be my best friend. Literally. Mom said she created him for me after I kept clutching onto my cousin’s son with my baby death grip.

Still, he didn’t know a lot about Cuddlebug’s situation. (Hell, Rom and Zach didn’t even believe she existed.) Partly because I wanted to protect her privacy, but mostly because Seb didn’t give two shits about anyone who wasn’t himself.

I always thought Seb needed a tragedy to shake him up. Something to remind him he wasn’t that untouchable.

“I didn’t forget, dude.” Seb laughed on the other line. “I just didn’t care enough.”

I wanted to punch his face in. Instead, I scooped up a basket and started loading it with things Briar Rose needed. Doliprane, fluids, electrolytes, carbs, and zinc.

“Your asshole ways are going to catch up with you one day,” I grumbled, heading toward the cashier. I didn’t want to waste any time. I needed to be back in that room in case Briar Rose threw up or something.

“Nah, I’m lightning fast. Oh, by the way.” Seb snapped his fingers on the other line. “I also convinced Dad to let me have the green Lamborghini for the summer. It was pretty easy to sweet talk my way into it, since I caught him bitching and moaning about your flaky ass to Manuel.”

Dad’s COO and right-hand man. Great. Word was out around the company that I was an irresponsible POS.

“I’m getting back there as soon as I can.” I slammed my teeth together, tossed a few notes in the cashier’s direction, and stormed back to the hotel. “I just want to make sure Briar Rose is okay.”

Seb’s turned serious for the first time. “Is she sick?”

“No, nothing like that. Just having a shitty week.”

“My Spidey senses are telling me yours is about to get even shittier when you come back here.”

I seriously hated him sometimes. “Can you at least tell him it’s an emergency?”

I could call Dad up myself, but it would take me a few hours. Taking care of Briar Rose required my laser focus right now.

“Sure, if I remember.”

“Not everything is a joke, Seb.”

“No.” He yawned. “But this conversation is, or I wouldn’t laugh.”

“I—”

But he hung up on me.

Bastard.