Player's Princess (A Royal Sports Romance)(55)

"I want to lie with you a little longer."

"You can lie with me as long as you want."

I roll over in his arms and tuck myself against him. I could sleep like this forever, swaddled in his arms, pillowed on his shoulder, pressed against his skin.

When he starts to snore, I sit up and gather my clothes. I dress slowly, not caring that the sweat will soak through. I take down his hoodie and put it on, and sniff it, and breathe him in.

He wakes as I dress, and watches me.

"I want to wake up next to you every day."

The words land on me like a blow.

You can, I think. For a time.

Then they'll take you away from me.

"I need to get home. Tomorrow. After class. Yes?"

"It's going to be harder to get away."

"I know. It will have to be after dark. We will not have much time."

"We'll have enough," he says as he stands and dresses. "I know I can't walk you back. Let me take you to the door."

We repack everything in a single overstuffed bag, and I carefully keep the lingerie out of his sight. Carrying one overstuffed bag that pulls at my fingers, I kiss him on the lips and dart away from the house, back to mine, and clamber through my window.

I sit on the floor and lean back against the wall. If I keep him, I lose him.

"I don't want to be a princess anymore," I tell no one in particular.





Chapter Ten





Anastasia



I arrive early to my first Monday morning class, American History. My bodyguards stop at the door to the lecture hall, scanning the room for threats even though I am alone.

Alone with Professor Grandolf.

She looks at me the way she might look at a particularly loathsome insect she has discovered despoiling her pantry. I start toward my customary seat and find her approaching me.

"Good morning, Miss De Vries," she says, purposely denying me my royal style.

If only she knew how much I want to get rid of it.

She lowers her voice.

"I don't know how you got your hooks in him, you little slut, but you're going to pay."

When I turn to look at her in shock, she steps back, grinning.

"So I hope we can reach an understanding about that," she says cheerily as students begin to file in.

I see Jason enter at the top of the hall. I look at my usual seat, within glaring range of the professor. I can't be near her, but I can't flee. She knows.

What will she do with that knowledge?

Jason looks at me, beckons me. I cross the aisle and sit away from him, and text him using my computer rather than my phone. At least I can type in complete sentences.



Anastasia: I want to sit with you so badly. Grandolf frightened me.



Jason: What?



Anstasia: She said, "I don't know how you got your hooks in him, you little slut, but you're going to pay." What does she mean?



I look back and shift in my seat, watching him type.



Jason: She said that to you?



Anastasia: Yes!



Jason: Stay calm. Don't react. Pretend you don't know what she means.



Grandolf starts her usual sardonic greeting and sends the assistants out with the papers. I take mine back, dreading that I received an F-, no matter what I actually did. To my surprise, it's been fairly graded a B+, with points off for grammar. Foolishly, I never let Jason proofread it for me.

I tuck it away and sink into my seat. I want this class over with desperately.

This is torture. I want to sit with my…

My boyfriend. I want to be like the others. I want to be normal. I want him to protect me from her. He can, I know he can. I am surrounded by guards, held in a gilded cage, and yet my protector is held at arm’s length. I can’t stop myself from looking back at him.

Every time I look back, I see Grandolf glaring, something vicious in her eyes, a wolfish cast to her grin. When I first began taking her classes, I was envious of her. I thought she was pretty, even beautiful. Now all I can see is some venomous creature.

Class drags on. It feels like she goes a minute over on purpose. I look down and my notes are sparse. I will have to rely on Jason to help me, but I don’t want to waste our time with such things as this.

My phone jumps in my pocket.



Jason: Tonight. Dark. I’ll come for you. Outside fence.



I am nervous and fidgety for the rest of the day, distracted and vacant. My knowledge of economics carries me through that class, as usual. The tedium grows unbearable. When the day finally ends, I rush home, threatening to break into a run at every moment.

Still, I must do my homework. I have been reading analyses and papers on The Great Gatsby trying to understand what it means, thinking of Jason's soft, compelling narration. I have a good enough grasp on the history work for the moment. I would have Dee proof it for me, but it would come back with more errors and probably more stains from pizza cheese.

When it is done, it is not yet dark.

There is a knock on the doorframe. When I acknowledge him, Thorlief inclines his head in respect.

"Yes? Speak freely."

"Princess, that is why I have come." He steps into the study. "Might I close the door? I would rather not risk that Bjorn hear."