Against Fate: A Prince Castle Novel

by Damian Bloom

  My heart flutters at his words.

  The truth is that I have no idea what Adam and I are. I know we’re not a couple because that’s something he’s sworn off. What I know is that in a short time, Adam has become my best friend, and I’m so glad to have him in my life.

  I throw my hands around his neck and kiss him so hard I run out of air. We’re instantly spotted.

  “Guys,” I hear Tanner shout, “they’re already at it.” When I turn around, he’s watching us from the doorway, a mischievous glint in his eyes.

  I resist the urge to hold Adam’s hand on the way to the door. “You weren’t kidding when you called this place a castle, huh?” he mutters, taking in the large house.

  We find the motley crew in the kitchen, from where I know beyond any trace of a doubt they’ve been spying on us.

  Keith’s the first to shake Adam’s hand. “You must be Prince Charming.”

  “I’m afraid Mr. Charming couldn’t make it today,” Adam says with a pleasant smile. “I’m just the horse.”

  “He’s a stud alright,” Eric whispers in my ear. He was the happiest of the bunch when the rumors first started making the rounds of the house, about how me and my “writing coach” were “getting it on”. They all had to meet the guy who’s managed to make me renounce my monkhood and—although I’ve never confirmed this—get rid of that pesky virginity. They then began dropping hints, speaking about how happy they’d be if I brought Adam home to meet them. And when they saw that didn’t lead anywhere, they threatened to show up at his door. Damn it, why does Peter have to know where he lives?

  “Don’t you happen to have a brother?” Eric asks when it’s his turn to shake Adam’s hand.

  “It’s nice to finally meet you,” Tanner says. “Luis has told us literally nothing about you.”

  As Adam shakes hands with everyone, I’m busy darting cautionary looks left and right.

  Adam pushes past my brother’s reached-out hand and pulls him into a warm hug. I, along with everyone else, raise a confused eyebrow. Seeing our faces, Adam says, “I owe my entire career to your brother.” He then tells us how Peter managed to rescue his deleted manuscript, and I’m surprised I’ve never heard this story before.

  “That’s actually how you and I got to meet,” he continues, speaking directly to me. “That’s how Peter convinced me to help you out with your writing.” Something flashes over Adam’s face. Something like melancholy, joy, gratitude maybe. It’s a sweet expression.

  The guys aww around us.

  “You lovebirds are gonna make me tear up,” Keith says.

  Despite the nerves that have still not let go of me, my insides light up with joy over my worlds colliding.

  We gather in the living room, and Tanner orders some pizzas. Adam and I sit next to each other on the couch. I try to keep a respectful distance, and Adam doesn’t seem to want to put on a show either. However, he stretches an arm over the back of the couch behind me to subtly acknowledge that we’re there as a pair of sorts.

  I’m fairly thoroughly roasted, but more respectfully than I expected. The guys are holding back. There’s only a handful of jokes and comments that make me blush, all of them things I expected—my incurable romanticism, my lost virginity, marriage.

  My friends are having the time of their life, which I anticipated, but I’m particularly happy to hear Adam’s rumbling laughter. From time to time, when no one’s looking, he finds an excuse to touch me, either brushing his leg against mine or gluing his forearm to my upper back. It makes me swoon. It feels so cozy.

  The others mostly miss these quick gestures of affection, which I’m sure they’d love to tease us for. Peter is the only one who catches Adam holding my hand for a short moment. I see my brother fix our clasped hands then look away, his mouth pressing into a bewildering thin line. That’s when I realize how off he’s seemed the entire afternoon, laughing dryly whenever everyone else laughed, eating little, and speaking even less. I make a mental note to ask him about it later.

  After pizza, Tanner brings out a few six-packs of beer.

  “What do you mean you’re not drinking?” Tanner looks almost offended when Adam refuses a beer.

  “I’m driving.”

  “Oh, come on,” Eric says with a dismissive flick of the wrist. “Just stay the night. What are boyfriends for?”

  Adam winces imperceptibly at the word “boyfriend”. He then turns a questioning gaze in my direction. I nod. “That’s a good idea. Why don’t you stay over?”

  He lowers his voice so only I can hear him. “You want me to?”

  “Of course.”

  Adam flashes me the most heart-warming smile. “Okay, Tanner, I’ll have a beer after all.”

  He ends up having about three, just like everyone else. Not enough to truly make him tipsy, but enough to redden his cheeks in the most adorable way.

  The more fun Adam has, the more relaxed I become, to the point where I can’t remember what I was stressing about in the first place.

  Peter offers to refill one of the chip bowls, and I take advantage of Adam going to the bathroom to sneak on my brother’s trail.

  “That was a cool story,” I say, creeping up on him. I press my face to his back and squeeze him hard into a hug.

  “What story?” Something in his voice still sounds off.

  “How you saved Adam’s career.”

  Peter scrunches up his nose. “Oh, he’s exaggerating. Anyone could have recovered his files.”

  I lean against the counter and try to make eye contact, but all his attention is directed to the chips he’s shaking into the bowl, like it’s a vital and demanding task. “But it wasn’t anyone. It was you. The greatest thing in his life might not have happened if it hadn’t been for you.”

  Peter shrugs. “Whatever.”

  Loud laughter ignites in the living room, and I think I make out Adam’s voice in the din.

  “You don’t like Adam very much, do you?” I ask.

  “I think he’s a very cool guy.”

  “Then what’s the problem?”

  My brother drops the bag of chips down on the counter. “Who said there’s a problem?”

  “What was that look?”

  He frowns. “Which look?”

  “The one you gave us when he held my hand. You’re not happy about me and him.”

  Brows still furrowed, Peter continues to avoid my gaze. “No, sure I am.”

  “Do you want to try that again, looking me in the eye this time?”

  Peter sighs, then shoots me a stern look. “Did you already forget what Grandma Hattie said?”

  That’s what this is all about? I thought he believed Grandma’s visions were just silly superstition. “Oh, now you’re a believer?”

  “No…I mean, yeah.” Peter slouches. “I don’t know. It’s weird that she got so many things right, I guess.”

  I nod. “She’s never been wrong.”

  “Then what’s this all about?” He points an arm in the direction of the living room, which is still teeming with voices. “You should see the way you look at him. You’re crazy about the guy.”

  I press a hand to my warm face. “And your point is…?”

  “He’s your heartbreaker. How can you not see that? He made you fall madly in love with him, and when he lets you down, you’ll crash harder than you can imagine now.”

  He might be right about that last part. There’s no denying I’ve had my head in the clouds lately. My chest’s so light it’s like I’m floating. It’s no longer as easy to picture this thing between Adam and me going south. It almost makes Grandma’s words dismissable, as if they no longer apply to me, but to an older, obsolete, vincible version of me.

  “I don’t want to see you in pieces.” Peter’s face contorts with poorly hidden contempt. “And everyone hanging out with him today…It feels wrong. Like chumming up to the asshole who hurt my brother.”

  “He hasn’t hurt me.”

  “Yet.” Peter runs a tired hand
over his face. “You know I can’t just stand by and watch someone hurt you. He’s lucky I haven’t kicked him out yet, as innocent as he may be.” My brother grimaces over the word innocent, like it’s bitter on his tongue.

  I sidle up to him and fish a chip out of the bowl. “You know I believe in Grandma’s visions,” I say, nibbling on the snack. “But what am I gonna do? Live like a monk for the rest of my life? It’s like you said, everyone gets hurt. It’s life.”

  Yes, I realize, Adam is the only one who can break my heart at the moment because he’s the only one who has it. It’s in his possession.

  My stomach tingles. I’ve never felt the way I feel about Adam. For anyone. And isn’t this what I’ve been dreaming of for so long?

  “If fate is as strong and immutable as my feelings for Adam, there’s nothing I can do about it anyway.”

  Peter’s head hangs with defeat.

  “I really like him, Peter,” I say, squeezing his shoulder. “Please be happy for me.”

  He sighs when he pulls me into his brotherly hug. “Okay. But you should tell him that when this is all over, he’d better watch his back.”

  When. Not if. It’s only a matter of time until this sweet dream comes tumbling down.

  I try to hide the gloominess that blossoms in my chest behind a chuckle. “I’m not telling him that.”

  As if on cue, Adam sweeps into the kitchen. “There you are,” he says, finding me cradled in my brother’s arms. “Everything alright?”

  Peter tenses around me. “Yes, we’re just catching up since he’s barely seen me the past week.”

  Adam smirks but tilts his head in a sort of apologetic bow. “Sorry about that,” he says. “I realize I’ve been pretty selfish, keeping Luis all to myself.”

  I burn with the desire to rush into his arms. You can be as selfish as you want.

  My brother attempts to smile, but it’s a struggle, so I hurry to pull Adam away before he picks up on the weird mood.

  “I think it’s time for me to show you my room,” I whisper, thrusting myself against him.

  His eyebrows twitch, just like the corner of his mouth. “Oh, yes, I can’t believe I haven’t seen where you sleep yet.”

  I lead him by the hand to my room. When we enter, I look at the place through new eyes. There’s barely any space that hasn’t been conquered by books, which inevitably makes it look rather messy.

  I’ve never thought about it before, but I suddenly notice how my bedroom chronicles my entire life. Books line the walls, nestled together based on the stage of life they found me in. There’s the fairy tale books I learned to read on, the young adult novels I’d always save up for and spend all my pocket money on in high school, the New Adult stuff I’ve begun reading in recent years, which makes me blush and boner up. Of course, there’s Grandma Hattie’s chest, the real source of my love for books, with its classics and old-school romance. And somewhere under the bed, collecting dust, I’m sure I must have some of my very first books—more pictures than words. In a way, letting Adam into my bedroom means offering him a clearer view of who I am than I could ever paint with words.

  After he does a full 360, his eyes wide and full of curiosity, and I tell him the history of Keith’s mural, Adam looks out the window at the dark street. He almost trips over the open book trunk, and he asks me about it. Although I’ve mentioned Grandma to him before, I now go into heartfelt detail about her and her impact on my childhood.

  Adam and I lie down on the bed as I speak about long-gone days, still so vivid in my memory that it wouldn’t surprise me to find out I’m six again. “Grandma’s the reason I love books as much as I do. Romance, too.”

  “I’d love to meet her.” His words give me pause. Surely simple fuck buddies don’t bother with meeting each other’s grandmothers.

  I feel Adam’s heartbeat under my hand. Gazing into his breathtaking eyes, I can’t help but wish I could read his mind and find out what he thinks, what he feels, what this really is. But I don’t want to scare him away with needy questions.

  “I think she’d like you.”

  “And why’s that?”

  “You’ve got this...old-school-romance darkness about you. You’re the brooding hero type.”

  Adam chuckles. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. I’m all rainbows and sunshine.”

  “I’ve noticed it from the moment I met you.” I shrug.

  His eyes twinkle with interest over the topic. “What did you think of me when you met me?”

  “That you were an annoying know-it-all, if I’m honest.”

  He shakes with laughter again. I find myself needing to pinch myself to check that this world in which this gorgeous and charming man is lying in my bed is, in fact, reality.

  “But you didn’t seem all bad. I knew there must be more hidden under the rough exterior.”

  “You wanna know what I first thought of you?”

  “That I’m stupid and childish for believing in love?”

  “That too.” He flashes me a smile. “But mostly, I thought you were one of the most gorgeous men I’ve ever met.” The words sizzle in his mouth, as hot as my insides right now.

  I kiss him, simply because I now can. And because it’s the best thing in the world.

  “Man, I couldn’t get you out of my head,” he admits, scratching his beard.

  “I couldn’t stop thinking about you, either.”

  Running a hand through the hair on the back of my head, Adam rolls us over so that he now lies on top of me. I feel him warm and heavy and real and present, and I can’t believe this is my life now. Try as I might, I can’t imagine anything better. I can’t believe there could be anyone better than Adam for me out there. If there is, I’m convinced Adam has spoiled me for him, because he’ll have some large shoes to fill.

  I’ve learned that if I lie next to Adam for more than five minutes, it’s a guarantee he will slip a hand inside my pants. Which he does now, sliding it between my cheeks and rubbing the tip of his finger against my hole.

  He was inside of me just this morning, but I already miss the feeling.

  “You got lube?” he asks, lips pressed to mine.

  Shit. “No.” The last time I slept in this bedroom, I was still a virgin. “I could ask one of the guys, but…” I cringe, and he picks up on my discomfort.

  “Nah, you don’t have to do that if it’s awkward.”

  “I’ve got an idea.” It’s something I’ve been dying to do with someone for as long as I can remember. It’s like I’ve got an interminable bucket list to which I’ve been adding romantic activity ideas my whole life, and now I’ve finally found a partner in crime to work through it with. “You like baths?”

  Although it’s got a massive shower, Adam’s bathroom lacks a bathtub, which is an almost unforgivable flaw if you ask me.

  His face spreads into a devilish grin. “I love baths.”

  I fill the tub with warm water, dumping in salts and a vanilla-scented bath bomb. As we wait, Adam sits down on the edge of the tub and pulls me into his lap, snaking his arms around me, caressing my lips with his.

  I help him out of his clothes, and he helps me out of mine, and suddenly, we’re in the water, holding each other. I’m not sure how comfortable it is for Adam, who’s far from a good fit for the tub. He’s got one leg stretched out over the rim, the other pressed against the tiled wall. I’m lying on my back, flush against his chest.

  With a lazy hand, Adam runs a finger over my neck, my chest, my hips, between my legs. Under his touch, I get hard instantly, and he begins to stroke me. He’s learned the language of my body so thoroughly over the past few days. He now knows that touching my inner thigh will get me hard as surely as pressing a button, that gently biting my neck will set me purring like a cat, and that the involuntary little arch of my back during anal is an invitation for him to fuck me harder.

  The hand that isn’t rubbing my dick roams over my chest, squeezing and prodding. He pinches my nipple and turns, an
d I gasp as silently as I can manage. Adam chuckles, pressing his face to the back of my neck. He kisses my upper back, and it’s as warm and relaxing as the bathwater.

  Similarly, I’ve learned a lot about myself over the past week. As Adam continues to explore my body and reveal his to me, I grow more and more comfortable with myself and him. I have no problem expressing what I want, sometimes with much more honesty than I would ever allow myself with anyone else.

  Fuck me harder, pin me down, I want to choke on your cock, these are things I’ve heard in porn but never imagined would leave my mouth.

  But Adam loves it. I can always see or feel him shiver with desire when I express my sexual needs. His dominant nature fits my naturally submissive one like we were made for each other.

  Before beginning my sex life, I had no idea just how fun sex can be. I definitely had no clue how much I would enjoy submitting to Adam, being taken and used by him, made to yield under the strength of his much larger, much stronger body. I’ve learned how much I can discover about myself in being possessed by him.

  But as rough and dirty as the sex might sometimes get, once the orgasms have come and gone, Adam never forgets to lather me with kisses. He cuddles me, caresses me, makes me feel like I’ve finally come home.

  And over and over again, in a maddening, confusing loop, the same question arises in my mind. How can anyone be better for me? How can there be a better fit?

  Adam wraps both his arms around my torso, squeezes me close to him until it’s hard to breathe. He sniffs hard. “You smell like me.” He says it with an extremely pleased grin.

  “That’s because I’m yours.”

  “You are?” He traces his fingers down to my hips. One hand glides down to my crotch, the other to my ass. “Is this mine?” he asks, giving my penis a light squeeze.

  “Yes,” I pant.

  He grabs my ass forcefully, which makes me gasp and whine, most likely too loud for the walls of this house. “And who does this belong to?”

  “To you. It’s yours.”

  Adam growls behind me, nibbles on my earlobe. “That’s right. You’re all mine.”