“Hiking? That's awesome. I love hiking as well.”
Finally, the conversation seemed to be flowing smoothly as she told me where her favorite hiking spots were and how often she got to do it. As we talked, I found that we had a lot more in common that what I had previously thought.
She told me more about her family, and I told her about how my father had passed when I was a child. I found myself opening up to her like I never had with anyone else, not even Edward or Maggie.
Eliza made it easy to just be myself. It didn't feel like she expected me to act a certain way or speak a certain way. No, on the contrary, she wanted me to just be Drew. Just plain ol’ Drew Harrington; and I loved it. It was refreshing to be with someone who I could trust to not be after my money or just trying to get to my mum. I knew that Eliza was different. She wasn't what I called a hanger-on.
“Hey, would you like to order something to eat?” she asked.
At that point, I was willing to do anything if it meant I got to stay a while longer. I was enjoying our time together, and I didn't want it to end.
“That sounds great,” I said, even though I wasn't hungry.
“What will it be?” she asked as she stood and walked to the desk on the other side of the room.
I couldn't take my eyes off of her as she bent over to retrieve what appeared to be menus from a drawer. Her bottom looked so good in her yoga pants, and I felt myself wanting to smack it lightly. It was round but not huge; just perfect enough to grab onto and hold tight.
She raised up so quickly that her breasts bounced a couple of times, causing my dick to begin to rise again. What the hell did this girl have that made me hard so quickly?
“Okay, we can order either Thai food or pizza. I'm afraid everything else is closed,” she said as she sat next to me.
She was closer than before, our legs and arms brushing ever so slightly. I could smell her sweet perfume, and my cock was getting harder by the second.
God, what was she doing to me?
I had always heard that guys peak sexually around eighteen years of age, and I believed it. It seemed since I'd entered high school all I wanted to do was to fuck. Here was this gorgeous woman in front of me with tits that would drive a blind man wild and an ass that made me almost cream my pants at the mere sight of it.
Damn, this girl had the entire package. Body, brains, and beauty. I had to have her, and I promised myself that night that she would be mine eventually.
***
Eliza and I ended up talking for several hours after the pizza was eaten. I felt at ease with her and it was the most amazing feeling that I'd ever felt with a girl. I didn't want the night to end, and I had a sneaking suspicion that she didn't either.
“Well, I guess I have to be going.”
“Oh my goodness, I had no idea that it had gotten so late,” she said as she looked at the clock.
“Me either,” I reiterated when I saw that it was almost four in the morning.
“I really hate for you to leave in the middle of the night. I mean, it could be dangerous driving back when you're sleepy,” she said.
Damn, let that mean what I thought I was hearing. She wanted me to stay?
“I guess it could be,” I said, wanting to just do away with the games and tell her that I was staying the night with her. But I wouldn't do that. I wanted an invitation.
She glanced around the flat. “Why don't you just stay here? I mean, you can get a few hours’ sleep then go home before class.
My heart was racing, and I felt as if I would explode with happiness. I had to act cool and collected. “Okay, if you're sure you don't mind,” I added for effect.
She smiled her sexy smile. “Of course, I don't. I wouldn't have asked if I did.”
She moved toward the hall and what I expected to be her bedroom. “Come on, I'll get you fixed up.”
My dick started to rise up again. Was it possible that she was going to go to bed with me? No way, she wasn't like that. I had to remind myself that this girl was different.
“Come on, silly,” she called out from the other room.
I had no choice but to follow her, so I did.
Her room was beautifully decorated with white walls and white lace curtains. There were pink flowers everywhere—on the duvet, the pillows, hell, even the chair had pink flowers on it as well. But somehow it all made sense and fit her personality. Her room smelled of her, sweet and sensual. Was I going to be in that bed with her tonight? I doubted it, but I could fantasize about it.
“Okay,” she said as she opened her closet. “Here is a blanket and a pillow for you. Just toss it across the couch and lie down. I know it's small, but it's really comfy.”
Shit! Way to dash my hopes of getting laid tonight.
My face must have given away what I was thinking because she asked me the most embarrassing question.
“What? Surely you didn't think you were going to sleep in here with me? Did you?”
I smiled. “Of course not, Eliza. We’ve only just met and are friends. I would never think such a thing,” I said, trying to cover my disappointment.
She smiled. “Good, now come on, and I'll help you get this on the couch.”
She led the way, and I followed, never taking my eyes off her ass. I put my hand on my crotch to try to push down the general so that she wouldn't see my erection. It was no use, the only thing that was going to take care of that was to either fuck her, jack it off myself, or let it go away on its own after she was out of my sight. Since the first two weren't even remote possibilities, I'd have to deal with blue balls for a while longer.
Eliza fixed the blanket and pillow and then turned off the overhead light. All that remained was the light that was coming from her bedroom down the hall. Shit! She looked hotter than ever, and my cock was dying to get to her.
The expression on my face must have given it away because she looked at me in a weird way.
“Is something wrong? Is this okay for you?” she asked.
“Oh yeah, this is fine. I'm just tired I guess,” I said, hoping she hadn't noticed that my Johnson was trying to escape my pants in pursuit of her pussy.
She smiled. “Okay, good night,” she said softly.
My heart skipped a beat. “Good night.”
She started to walk away but then turned back to me. “Andrew?” I heard her sweet voice say.
“Yes?”
“I'm glad you came over tonight. I really enjoyed talking with you and just being with you. You're not at all what I expected, and I'm so glad that Haddish paired us up.”
I was elated to hear that she really did like having me as a partner. “I'm glad he did too. Thank you, by the way,” I added.
“For what?”
“For treating me like I am a regular person. You don't know how it feels to wonder if others only want to be close to you because of who you are or what you own. It's horrible always being suspicious of everyone and not trusting anyone. But I feel that I can trust you, Eliza.”
“You're welcome. I do only want to get to know you just for you. I want nothing from you at all; I promise.” She crossed her heart, and it was a cute gesture.
She walked toward me and stopped just in front of me. She stared up at me. I was towering at six-feet-one, and she couldn't have been more than five-feet-two. The look in her eyes said that she wanted to be kissed, but I was afraid to. It was too soon.
She stood there, body pressed to mine, looking into my eyes.
Damn, Drew! The signals were there. Kiss the girl.
I bent down slowly and put my lips on hers. She didn't move. Instead, she pressed hers into mine, and her tongue found its way into my hungry mouth. I kissed her passionately, almost angrily as she pressed her firm tits against my chest.
Oh damn, they felt so good against me. I would come soon if we didn’t stop. Drew, get a fucking grip.
She giggled against my mouth, and I looked down, knowing what had happened. She had felt my engorged cock against h
er stomach. “Wow, someone is happy,” she said without taking her mouth from mine.
I was dying to take her pick her up and lay her across the bed and have my way with her, but I wouldn't allow myself.
“Yeah, about that…” I pulled my mouth from hers and backed away. “I don't want you to think that I came here with these intentions. I didn’t expect that we would kiss.”
“Drew,” she whispered. “It's okay. I kissed you first.”
Technically, she had, so I didn't need to feel bad. I was, however, embarrassed that my Johnson had poked her in the belly.
“You're a great kisser,” she said as she moved in for another. “And your cologne is so intoxicating.”
I knotted my fingers through her hair and tilted her head back, methodically kissing her. I drove my tongue deep within her mouth, imagining it was my dick she was sucking. I got so carried away that I could feel myself about to unload in my boxers.
I quickly let go and pulled away from her. “No,” I said forcefully. “We can't do this.”
She looked confused. “Okay, but if you want to, it’s alright with me,” she said in a voice so sexy that I almost changed my mind right then and there.
“I do, trust me, Eliza. I want nothing more right now than to have you, but I respect you too much for that. I can't allow it.”
She smiled as if I had passed some sort of test. “Andrew Harrington, you are one of a kind.”
She walked toward her room and then turned to me. “Do you know that most guys would have taken me to bed and not thought twice about it?”
“I'm not most guys,” I said as I met her in the hallway. “I am the one guy who is different. You'll see.”
Chapter 8
Eliza
As I snuggled into my warm bed, I caught a whiff of Drew's cologne that lingered on my face and hands. He smelled divine, like fresh citrus with a touch of spice and musk. I had no idea what it was called, but it was very sexy, just like him. I glanced at the clock and saw that it was almost five in the morning, but I wasn't sleepy. Instead, I was elated, and I knew that I wasn't going to be able to sleep even if I tried.
I smelled my hand again and smiled as I took in the fragrance of a Prince. Would I ever wash my hand again? That was a question I wasn't sure how to answer. I giggled slightly thinking of how schoolgirl-ish I was acting, but I was smitten and I couldn't help myself. After all, I was a schoolgirl; one in university, but a schoolgirl, nonetheless.
After a few more minutes of tossing and turning, I decided to get up and write in my journal. It was what I did when my mind was heavy with thoughts or my heart was weighed down with emotions too strong for me to carry. My journal was my place of escape, my best friend who never dared spill any of my deepest secrets. My journal was the one whom I knew I could trust when I couldn't tell a living soul what I was feeling. That was precisely the case at the moment.
No one could know that the Prince had spent the night in my flat. No one could know that he was fraternizing with a poor commoner such as me. No, he would be the headline of every newspaper and tabloid across the world, and so would I for that matter. It was something of which I wanted no part.
I had watched my father report on things that Edward had done throughout puberty, and I hated every second of it. I didn't like that my dad was in the business of making money from other people's public failures or falls from grace. It disgusted me, actually. I had always been ashamed of his work and when asked by my teachers or friends, I would lie and say that my father was disabled and couldn't work. I would sometimes make up outlandish tales for my peers in elementary school that I knew would make them say, “ooh” and “aah”. Once I told two of my classmates that my dad had gotten attacked by a shark off the coast of Australia while he was surfing, rendering him unable to ever work again.
I remembered the looks of complete horror on those two boys’ faces when they heard it, and then I fretted when they asked if they could come to my house and see the scars. Needless to say, I never made up anything quite as gory as that again. When you were in the sixth grade and children were bringing their mums and dads to school for Career Day, you had to find a way to make your father unavailable. I thought my dad knew that I was embarrassed by his line of work because he'd asked me one day if I wanted him to come and speak to the class, and I let out a scream and flung myself onto the floor where I had a tantrum. After that, he never spoke of work around me again. I saw his name in the byline whenever I was brave enough to pick up one of the trash magazines, and I was disgusted every single time.
After getting out of bed, I turned on the small lamp on my desk and grabbed my book and pencil and began to write.
Dear Journal,
I can't believe what is happening to me. I met Prince Andrew Harrington in the parking lot at the café, and he offered to fix my broken down shotty car. I refused and acted like a complete ass to him. I pushed him away out of fear.
Later that day, Professor Haddish assigned us as partners on a class project that is going to take four months to complete. At first, I was furious, afraid, and nervous. I was super scared that he would find out who Dad is and turn on me. I was afraid that he would tell my classmates whose daughter I am and they would all shun me. But that didn't happen. No, just the opposite—Prince Andrew, or Drew as he likes to be called, is here, sleeping on my couch tonight.
There is something else before I go to bed. We kissed … a long, slow, passionate kiss. I must admit that I have zero experience with kissing boys, but as far as I'm concerned, he's the best! I wanted more tonight, and I felt as though he did as well, but he refused me, which makes me happy. He said that he respects me too much to just take me to bed. It's a good thing he did that, given that I am still a virgin. I would have probably given in and slept with him out of sheer desire, but I am exhilarated that he wants to wait.
Stay tuned, Journal… I have a feeling this is just the beginning of my fairy tale.
With that, I put my pencil down, turned off the light, and climbed into bed. I smiled as the memory of us kissing and embracing kept playing on repeat in my mind until I finally fell asleep.
***
When my alarm buzzed at eight am, I felt as though I'd been hit by a bus. My head ached from lack of sleep, and my body was tired. I didn’t feel like getting up for my shift at The Pour Pauper. Then I remembered that Drew was on my couch, and my eyes suddenly sprang open. My heart fluttered, and I wanted nothing more than to see him before leaving for work. Jumping up, I nearly tripped over my duvet when it caught my big toe. I laughed as I wiggled free from it and ran into my bathroom to brush my teeth before Drew had a chance to wake up. I threw on a little eyeliner and mascara, trying to deter attention from the dark circles under my eyes from lack of sleep.
After giving myself the once over and approving the end result, I opened the door and tiptoed to the living room. I was anxious to see the handsome guy laying on my couch. As I rounded the hall, I could see the blanket folded neatly and placed on the chair along with the pillow. Andrew wasn't there. Was he in the kitchen? I stepped through the door to find it empty as well. Where did he go? I walked to the window and looked outside to find that there were no cars parked along the street.
My heart sank. What happened? As he lay in the dark, did he finally put two and two together and come to the conclusion that my father was James Noble, tabloid reporter extraordinaire?
Oh my God!! I had to find out what happened and why he left.
I quickly turned to gather my books and noticed a note on top of the pillow and blanket that were piled on the chair.
Eliza,
I had a great evening with you.
See you tomorrow.
—Drew
My eyes welled with tears as I read the short note. Even though his message was simple, I could feel the meaning behind every word. Drew wasn’t your typical eighteen-year-old guy. He had the opportunity to take me to bed, but it was obvious he wasn’t a hit it and quit it kind of guy. He was
interested in getting to know me before we took that step in what I hoped to be a relationship. This guy was a keeper and I knew it. He was kind, gentle, respectful, and honest—everything that a woman wanted in a man and more. I was euphoric that he wanted me as much as I wanted him.
I took the note to my room and dated it then slid it into the pocket on the back cover of my journal. One day I’d be able to read it and remember the exact date I realized that I was falling for the Prince of England.
***
The morning shift at The Pour Pauper was always hectic. Businessmen, university students, and commoners alike all stopped by the café for their morning fuel. This morning was extra frustrating, because I couldn’t get my head out of the clouds long enough to focus on any task that I was doing. I’d burnt the batch of blueberry muffins, knocked the carton of milk off the counter and spilled it all over the cabinets and floor, and currently—my most horrid incident of humiliation—I’d fallen face first into the high-top table when delivering a coffee order to two young men.
Typically, orders were called out and customers would come to the counter to pick them up. But, for whatever reason, Ariand had told me to take this order out to the customers who were seated in the far counter. Laughter rang out all around me, and I hurried to my feet and picked up the cardboard cups and pasties. Coffee was splashed all over the floor, so I pulled a rag from my apron pocket and cleaned the liquid up the best I could. I’d have to get a mop and clean the floor properly.
“Clumsy, wretch, what the hell is wrong with you?” the husky voice chided, pulling my attention away from the mess on the floor. I looked up at the preppy guy sitting with his back ramrod straight, a rotten sneer on his face. I felt like all eyes were on me, and I was horrified.
“I-I’m so sorry, sir. I tripped.”
“Sorry? Listen, pauper, your pathetic apology means nothing to me.”
“What did you bloody trip over? Your tattered wretch skirt or your own two feet?” the other guy, a lean chap wearing a rugby jersey, asked, laughing. “There wasn’t a damned thing in your way, wretch!” The two idiots roared with laughter, but I didn’t understand why they were being so cruel and ugly to me. Something had tripped me, causing me to spill their drinks and burn myself as well.
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