by H J Welch
It seemed impossible to believe that Matty could have something fun and casual for a week, though, without getting attached. The truth was, he liked Cas so much that it scared him. He’d realized that in the moment they’d been about to kiss, and been interrupted by the phone call, which felt more and more like a signal from the universe to call it quits before Matty really got hurt.
Because, yes, he was still raw from Jeremy dumping him. But this felt like it could break him more. Cas was a hundred times the man Jeremy had been. Could Matty really risk getting closer when he’d only have to leave again?
Urgh. He was so bored of his own brain, and he’d had enough. He took another glug of wine. He didn’t really have the kind of friends he could talk to about sex and stuff back home. In fact, he was quite a loner. He narrowed his eyes at the sisters, who were watching his internal debate with amusement, as if they knew exactly what he was wrestling with.
“So you’re saying you think Cas is really into me, and that I should throw caution to the wind and text him back?”
Shommie blew a raspberry. “I was saying that when we were on the tea. But if it takes vino to make you start seeing sense, I’m gonna go ahead and order another bottle.”
“Ohh, and let’s get chips,” said Esosa eagerly, picking up the menu.
“Oh, um,” Matty began, his anxiety spiking, but Shommie arched an eyebrow at him fiercely.
“Now, I know you’re not going to stop me and my sister spoiling you, too.”
“And we don’t even expect to get lucky after,” Esosa added wickedly. “We’ll let you save that for after your dinner date tomorrow night.”
“You have a date, Uncle Matty?”
Shit. Matty hadn’t realized that the kids had skipped closer to their table again. They were out of breath and had different colored chalk smudged on their hands and faces where they’d obviously gotten bored of hopscotch and just started rolling on the damn ground. Matt was horrified, thinking of all the germs, and not sure if he should tell Finley off. But without batting an eyelid, both Shommie and Esosa magically produced wet wipes from somewhere and began attacking their squealing kids, in between managing to order another bottle of wine from the passing waitress, as well as some snacks.
Matty blinked, his mouth hanging open in awe as he looked back at Finley. Before he could panic, though, Shommie held out a wet wipe in front of his face, which he gratefully took. It was as if the woman had eight arms like an octopus, she was so on top of everything.
As if the universe was trying to illustrate just how not on top of everything Matty was, a voice piped up next to their table. “Excuse me?” a woman asked in a pleasant voice with a Rosavian accent. “But is this someone’s phone?”
Matty looked up from his chalk-covered niece to see a slim woman with bright red nails and a severely tight ponytail of long dirty-blonde hair. For the briefest second, Matty wondered if he’d seen her somewhere before, but then he was distracted, because she was indeed holding out a phone.
Matty’s phone.
“Oh my god!” he spluttered as he lunged for it. She handed it over without pause. “Where did you-? Thank you! Oh god!”
He couldn’t afford a new phone, but more to the point, he couldn’t be stranded in a foreign country without a way to contact his sister, unless he borrowed Finley’s phone. But that would leave her without a way to communicate to her mom, and…
He made himself breathe as he clutched the damn thing to his chest. “Where was it?” he managed to ask the woman without passing out.
She smiled kindly, though, and just shrugged, like what she’d done was no big deal. “On the ground by your chair, there,” she said, pointing. “I guess it fell out of your pocket or something? I hope it’s not cracked?”
Matty inspected the screen and used his fingerprint to unlock the phone’s systems. He breathed a big sigh of relief. “No. Everything seems fine. I can’t thank you enough.”
But the good Samaritan just shook her head and stepped back from the café’s outdoor space into the plaza. “It was my pleasure. Have a good day!” She waved at them as she melted into the busy afternoon crowd, and Matty took a long deep breath of relief before placing the phone in front of him on the table where he couldn’t possibly lose sight of it.
Because – he realized with startling clarity – if he lost that phone, he’d lose the only way he had of contacting Cas. He had no idea what his last name was. He’d saved his contact details as ‘Cas Rosavia,’ and that wouldn’t be nearly enough to find him on any social media platforms.
For all Matty had been avoiding responding to all three of Cas’s texts, it hit him like a wrecking ball that he didn’t actually want the option to be taken away from him.
Not one bit.
“That was a close call,” Shommie commented sagely.
But it seemed not everyone was so easily distracted. “Well?” said Finley impatiently as Matty finally finished cleaning off her hands.
“Well, what?” he asked with a frown.
Finley huffed. “Do you have a date or not? And is it with Cas?” she added in a sing-song voice, then proceeded to making loud kissing noises.
Matty huffed. “I feel like I’m being ganged up on.”
“That’s because you are, sweetie,” said Shommie with a wink.
“It’s not a date, Finley,” Matty said, still unsure if he was even going to say yes despite the scare with his phone. “We don’t know each other.”
“But that’s what dates are for,” insisted Finley. “Getting to know each other. Look.” She put her little fists on her hips and scowled impressively for an eight-year-old. “When you have a target in your sights, you have to fire! Otherwise you get all wobbly and you might miss.”
“This is a little different than shooting an arrow,” said Matty weakly.
Finley smirked and crossed her arms. “But Cupid used a bow and arrow, didn’t he?”
“The kid’s got you there,” said Shommie as she grinned around the lip of her wine glass.
“Fine,” said Matty, all of a sudden giving up. He had too much else to worry about – real concerns about his sister’s health. Why was he still doubting himself so badly? He picked up his phone and showed it to all the women meddling in his love life. “You win. I’ll text him right now.”
Finley air punched. “Yes! I told you so!”
“Brat,” Matty mumbled fondly.
But he was an idiot, truly. He couldn’t even try and deny the way his heart flipped when he reread Cas’s last, simple message. He wanted to bring Matty to his home and cook for him. Why was he fighting a good thing so hard?
That sounds wonderful. Send me your address and I’ll be there at seven? Thank you.
“And, send,” he announced triumphantly as their fresh bottle of wine and snacks arrived.
Finley cheered, so the other kids cheered too without really knowing why, then descended on the bowls of hot, salty fries that Esosa had ordered for them. But Shommie took a second to reach over and squeeze Matty’s knee under the cheap plastic table.
“Now, promise me,” she said softly and sincerely, “that you’ll go and do your very best to have a good time. You’re a nice lad. You deserve a holiday romance.”
Matty attempted to swallow the small lump that was doing its best to lodge in his throat. “Thank you,” he whispered, accepting another top up to his glass.
He was Vacation Matty. And Vacation Matty got a little day drunk and took a chance on gorgeous strangers. He’d only regret it if he didn’t.
And, honestly, really – what was the worst that could happen?
Chapter Eight
Cas
What the hell had Cas been thinking? He couldn’t cook.
He pressed the heels of his palms into his eyes and groaned. His rather nice apartment might have been decorated with several bunches of fresh cut flowers thanks to Valentina, but now it smelled like burnt garlic and despair.
He had half an hour until Matty a
rrived.
A thrill ran through Cas. It was okay. Everything was fine, because Matty had finally texted him back and said he was coming over. So long as he showed up, Cas could gloss over his lack of culinary skills with some dazzling conversation. He’d successfully entertained far duller men than Matty during the countless state dinners he’d attended. Cas’s witty repartee had healed international relations and secured trade deals in the past. All he had to do tonight was show Matty how much he liked him.
Which, really, couldn’t be that difficult.
“Okay, okay, I can fix this,” Cas muttered to himself as he opened the window and wafted some of the smoke out.
Really, it was an outrage that he and his brothers hadn’t been taught to properly prepare any kind of meal. Sure, he knew how to start a fire with flint and could survive in the wilderness through foraging. He could also speak six languages and attempt small talk in at least another three, he was practically a historian with regard to his own country’s legacy, and he was a borderline anthropologist in countless other cultures.
But he’d just had to Google ‘How do I cook rice?’
He rubbed his hand over his face and groaned, laughing at himself. At least he was already dressed in his favorite teal cotton shirt and navy dress pants, freshly shaved and doused in just the right amount of cologne. Although, usually, that meant formal events. Not a one-on-one date with a guy he really fucking liked.
He was just playing pretend in this small apartment, acting like he knew what the hell to do with the box of eggs and cubed chicken that were currently mocking him. He was a total fraud, and Matty was going to see right through him. He’d been spoiled his whole life. For heaven’s sake – Nanny had buttered his toast until he was ten years old! He should have stuck with the sushi restaurant and ordered take-out. He and Matty only had a short amount of time together, and Cas was wasting his time worrying over how much chili paste to add to this damn sauce. He should have-
There was a knock at the door.
Matty was early, but only fractionally. Cas had been standing there working himself into a state the whole time. He’d wanted everything to be perfect, but when was anything perfect, really? People always said it was the thought that counted. Hopefully Matty would appreciate Cas’s good intentions.
He made sure the gas was switched off before dashing from the kitchen. “Uh…just coming!”
He’d just pour Matty a glass of Zasfer, and then continue to muddle through with the recipe that had seemed so simple earlier. This wasn’t the end of the world.
Cas hurried through the apartment, stopping briefly to check his hair was okay in one of the mirrors and that he hadn’t splashed oil on his shirt or anything. Then he lunged for the door, praying Matty hadn’t gotten bored and wandered off in the age it had taken Cas to move his ass across the apartment.
However, when he finally yanked open the door, Matty was standing on the other side, looking uncertainly at his phone. At Cas’s sudden appearance, he gasped and looked up. “I-I was just checking I had the right address,” he said quickly, waving the phone at Cas.
Fuck. It had only been a couple of days, but Matty was a sight for sore eyes. For the first time Cas had seen, he wasn’t wearing jeans. Instead he was sporting a beige pair of chinos with a navy and white horizontally-striped long-sleeved T-shirt. It clung to his body like all manner of sin. He looked up with those blue eyes, so bright against his pale skin.
Cas’s insides twisted with want and longing, and his heart fluttered with happiness. “You’ve got the right address,” he murmured, feeling the sappy grin spread over his face.
Who cared if he’d failed at the first hurdle when it came to cooking? Matty was here, and they could just damn well order takeout.
“Please, come inside,” said Cas, his manners switching on automatically thanks to a lifetime of training. He stood aside and swept his arm toward the living room, which the front door led straight to. “I’m so glad you came.”
Matty blushed sweetly as he stepped in and allowed Cas to take the jacket he’d had slung over his arm. It was only in that moment that Cas suddenly realized that Matty must still have the old school hoodie that Cas had lent him for their little picnic. He loved the idea that it was still in Matty’s possession, and the strategic part of his brain noted that it gave them an excellent excuse to see one another again, should they need it.
The romantic side of him just loved the idea that it might keep Matty warm.
After Cas hung up the jacket, he closed the front door then turned back to face Matty, who was looking a little like a deer in headlights. For an awful second, Cas was frozen with indecision, not sure if they should hug or shake hands or bloody bow to each other. But once again, Cas’s manners took on a life of their own, and before the moment could become too awkward, he touched Matty’s elbow and leaned in to ghost a kiss over his cheek.
“Did I mention it was good to see you?” he murmured as he stood back. After their little hiccup, he figured he might as well make his intentions crystal clear.
Matty took a breath and clasped his hands in front of his stomach. “You, too. Really. Look…I’m so sorry I avoided you. I can be a little weird sometimes. My ex-boyfriend liked to play games and mess me up, and my so-called parents have given me a few serious trust issues. And I promise I won’t mention any of them again now I’m here.” He grimaced and waved his hands. “What I’m trying to say is, thanks for not giving up on me. I’m really excited for dinner.”
He offered Cas a hopeful smile, but for a second, Cas wrestled internally.
Should he come clean?
Matty had just been vulnerable and admitted that his ex was a player and his parents had given him trust issues. And here was Cas, hiding a huge part of who he was.
But he wasn’t lying. Was it so terrible that he didn’t want Matty to treat him differently, which he undoubtedly would if he found out that Cas was a damned prince? No, they were just two guys having dinner. Cas would never, ever mess Matty around. In fact, he’d do everything he could to keep him safe and having a good time.
So he shook off his doubts and snorted, holding his hand out toward the kitchen. “I wouldn’t be too excited. It’s all gone horribly wrong. Come on, let’s head in so I can ply you with bubbles, and hopefully your meal won’t taste so awful.”
Matty gave him a curious look as he followed Cas into the next room. Cas was aware out of the corner of his eye that Matty’s head was twisting and turning as he took in the high arches between the rooms, the vaulted ceiling, the chandelier, the original artwork, and the view that showed off the river Urden and half of upper Alpina.
Even when he was trying to be simple and modest, Cas wasn’t sure he was capable.
Much like his cooking abilities.
“It was supposed to be a Thai curry,” he said apologetically as he opened the fridge to retrieve one of the bottles of Zasfer.
He’d had a fondness for Thai food since his school days, when he, Leo and Jules used to sneak into Alpina for dinner, sometimes with Prince Dante of Thedes as well, seeing as he and Jules had always been two peas in a pod in those days. It had been the closest thing to normalcy the four princes had found back then, as the restaurant had never given them the royal treatment. In fact, the family had always gently teased them, making Cas feel like a regular teenager for once. He’d hoped to recreate some of that nostalgic sense of belonging for Matty tonight, but…
“I burned the garlic, and then you arrived. I think I managed to chop up most of the ingredients okay, though,” he added brightly as the cork burst free with a loud pop! Cas expertly snagged one of the flutes he’d had out already, pouring Matty his glass before any of the bubbly could escape out of the neck.
He handed his date the glass with a shy smile, but Matty’s eyes were wide and his brows raised. He accepted the glass almost without appearing to even see it. “I can take a shot at it, if you like?” he asked hopefully.
Cas stared at him. “But…
I said I’d cook for you?” he replied weakly.
Matty smirked around the lip of his flute and took a long sip, his throat bobbing as he swallowed.
Cas’s cock throbbed at just the sight of it.
“Yeah,” Matty rasped, a playful tone to his voice. “But you’re fucking it up.”
Cas barked out a laugh. As much as he adored taking care of Matty, he loved it when Matty stopped worrying and started teasing. It was incredibly sexy.
“Oh, and you could do so much better?” Cas asked, equally as playful as he poured his own glass. A full one, this time. He didn’t have to drive anywhere.
Matty’s expression became quite serious and earnest. “I can already see what I’d do from the ingredients you have out. Were you following a recipe, or can I just improvise?” He blushed again, Cas’s new favorite sight. “You’ve been so kind to me. So generous. I’d really love to reciprocate, if I can?”
Cas’s insides squirmed, and his heart ached. Sure, his cock was definitely still awake, but Matty was practically begging to cook for them so he could repay Cas in a way that made sense to him.
Suddenly, that great gulf of a power and wealth imbalance didn’t seem so enormous. Suddenly, they were just two guys, fumbling their way through a cute second date.
“Be my guest,” Cas said warmly.
Matty took a sip from his glass, then set it down on the counter so he could roll up his sleeves and get to work. He moved with ease around the kitchen, his eyes dancing as he focused on sorting through the ingredients. Cas gave him the recipe that he’d been attempting, telling Matty that he really didn’t mind if he followed it or not.
Cas leaned against the counter, sipping his sparkling wine and watching Matty work. He wondered if Matty knew he made little humming noises when he concentrated, or if he felt the smile that was playing on his lips. Damn, Cas wanted to step behind him and wrap his arms around his waist and kiss his neck. Matty had smelled of fresh soap and a woodsy aftershave when Cas had leaned in for that chaste kiss by the door. He licked his lips, already craving another hit of the scent that was purely Matty.
