"What's the castle like? Is it really a castle?"
"It's three hundred years old, but my ancestors began building it a hundred years before that. The Old Keep is smaller and at the foot of the mountain. It is bigger than this building, but not by much, and it is square. The New Keep is on the mountain slope. It is more what you would think of as a castle. It has five towers and a curtain wall thirty feet high, but it is more of a palace than a castle."
"Wow, must be really posh."
I shake my head. "No. It's cold and drafty. The walls are stone with tapestries to hold in the heat from hearths in winter, and it is hot in the summer when the sun heats the stones."
"Wow, your castle isn't air conditioned?"
"No, but it is beautiful. The interior of the island had a limestone quarry before it flooded. The walls are bright white and catch the sunlight on bright days until they glow. It looks like magic."
"I saw pictures of it," he confesses. "I was curious. You make it sound way more interesting. I'd like to see it someday."
I stick my fork in something Jason called "SOS," and scoop it onto a piece of toasted bread. It's a little too salty for my taste but reminds me of the fish stews I used to eat at home.
"You like it?"
"Yes. Why is it called SOS?"
"My dad used to call it that. He was in the Army. Stands for 'shit on a shingle.'"
I look down at my plate with wide eyes.
"It's just a name, honey. Eat up."
There is so much, I can barely finish half. Do Americans eat like this every day? I would not know. I only see people eat in the cafeteria, and the food in the cafeteria is barely edible.
"Do we have to go now that we're done?"
"Nah, they'll let us sit here all day if we want."
"Oh. What is your home like? Do you have a house?"
"Eh, had. I grew up in a trailer park."
I blink a few times.
"You don't know what that is, do you?" Jason sighs.
I shake my head.
"Trailers. Ah, they call them mobile homes now, but they're trailers, like the big trucks pull, you know?"
"You lived in one of those?" I ask, astonished. "Why?"
"Not like one of those, no, but it's the same idea. It's a long rectangle thing with wheels, and you can pull it with a truck. They make them in a factory. It had windows and carpet and all that, like a regular house, and we lived in one because it was cheap."
"Cheap?"
"Dad was a pipe fitter." He shrugs. "Mom didn't work; she took care of me and my little sister."
My chest tightens. He refers to them in the past tense. I should say something, but what?
Before I can answer in my own question, he cuts me off.
"So we had our lovely home. A doublewide."
I poke my food. "There is nothing, I…."
"What?"
"I… it seems like you are unhappy with where you grew up."
"Well, we can't all be born in castles."
I turn in my seat so I can face him. "Jason, listen to me. I do not care where you were born. If you were born in a trailer or a castle, it matters nothing to me. You are who you are."
"I've heard that a lot," he sighs. "Maybe it doesn't matter to you, but it matters when—"
He cuts himself off, and shakes his head.
"When what?"
He slips his arm around me. "Ana, there's stuff in my life I just don't want to talk about. Let's do something fun, huh?"
I nod. "Yes. I would like fun."
"Good, come on. Have you ever been to a mall?"
"No?"
"Holy God, you've been here for what, over two years now and you've never been to the mall? Come on!"
Jason pays the bill and leaves money on the table. I blink a few times at that. Why is he giving the waitress extra money? No one does that where I come from. I wonder if I should ask him, but hold my tongue.
We sit on a bench outside and wait for another bus. This one takes us up a ramp and onto the highway. I glance to my left and gasp.
It's huge.
"Is that the mall? It's bigger than the castle!"
"Yeah, that's the mall," Jason says, leaning against my back as I stare.
"It's so big. What's in there?"
"I'll show you. Just wait."
The bus stops, and we dismount again, among a small crowd of people. It's a long, brisk walk to the mall, and it's even bigger than I thought it was. The walls are as high as the castle's, and the doors are like gates. I take Jason's hand as we walk inside, and he holds mine firmly.
The ceiling lofts high overhead, and the hallway is broad enough for twenty people to walk abreast.
"Don't stare," Jason laughs.
"How can I not?"
"Are you really impressed by this?"
"Yes! Look at the fountain!"
I slip his hand and run forward. I stop at the edge. Water rises in spouts high overhead, and falls back into the basin.
"There's no fish," I sigh, slightly disappointed.
"What? Fish?"
"No fish in the water. It should have fish. I like fish."
"You like fish." He smirks. "Okay, good to know."
"Why are there coins?"
He shrugs. "People throw them in and make wishes."
I dig in my pocket and find a few stray coins, and clasp them in my hands. "Wish first?"
"Yeah."
Jason looks at me strangely. I press the coins against my palms and think. What would I wish for?
My throat tightens.
I almost wish I wasn't a princess. No, that would be foolish. I wish I could stay with Jason forever. No, this is our first date. I shouldn't let myself fall for him. I must keep my head, no matter what my heart, and other things, want me to do.
No.
I wish for Jason to be happy, I tell myself, and throw in a coin. I wish for Dee to be happy. I wish for Jason's roommates to be happy. I throw in one coin for each of them, and then one coin with no wish at all. Perhaps it will help the others along, give them more power.
Jason takes my arm.
"Come on. Let's go look at stuff we can't afford."
There are so many stores, so many things. When I stop to stare into a toy store, Jason stops with me. Then he tugs my arm and guides me inside.
"I was just looking."
"Hey, everybody loves this stuff. Who cares how old you are?"
The store sells building blocks. All sorts of things can be made of them. Castles and pirate ships and other stranger things, things from movies and from outer space. Some are displayed in glass cases, and I stare at them in wonder, awed by their complexity.
Jason picks up a box from the shelf, a construction set that assembles into a castle, and pulls me along to the checkout counter. He reaches for his wallet, and I grasp his wrist.
"No," I chide him.
I open my purse and hand over my credit card. When Jason sees it, his eyes widen a little.
"You have one of those black cards? I didn't know they were real."
When I take it back, I turn it in my fingers, studying it. "Mother gave it to me for emergencies."
"Emergencies," Jason says. "This is an emergency."
The clerk puts the package in a bag, and Jason takes it.
"I should carry it," I say.
"No way. Come on, let's look around some more."
There is so much here. Every few feet is a new store. I stop at one of the clothing boutiques and stare in through the window, heavy with longing.
"Go in," Jason urges.
"I don't know…."
"What's wrong?"
"I have never chosen my own clothes before. I have always worn what was given to me."
"This place is a little high-end, but I don't think it matters. Come on, let's look around."
Jason leads me inside. I feel overwhelmed at first. So many choices. When I finally begged Mother to let me wear jeans, she had to approve them first and I was give
n a supply. The ones in here are cut so low they barely cover anything, and the legs are so skinny they must be as tight as leggings.
"I'll wait while you try them on."
I look at him. "I can try them on?"
He sighs. "Yes, Princess. Come on, the dressing room is over here. Grab some things."
I fold some clothes over my arm as we walk toward these dressing rooms, choosing almost at random. I see one top in particular that brings a smile to my face, and snatch it while Jason is distracted.
Once we arrive, he sits on a bench outside.
"Go in there and change, and then come out and show me."
I lock myself inside and slip out of my clothes. I pull on a pair of jeans so tight they look like they are painted on, and the t-shirt I saw that I liked.
Then I walk out to see Jason's reaction. He looks up, and his mouth falls open slightly before he closes it. I stand before him in skintight black jeans that barely cover my nether regions, and a shirt that comes down too short, exposing my belly button.
The chest reads, in bright, shiny letters, YOU CAN'T AFFORD ME.
I grin. "How do I look?"
"Just let me keep looking for a minute."
I stick my tongue out in defiance and almost bounce back into the dressing room, then put on another outfit. I cycle through them.
The last is a halter top that leaves my neck and shoulders exposed and covers my back with only thin strings tying it to my body.
"I don't think I can wear this in public," I mumble.
Jason just stares at me.
"Holy shit," he says.
I turn beet-red and rush back into the dressing room, where I change back into my original outfit.
When I emerge, I carry all the clothes to the clerk and buy them.
Jason takes the bags with a small sigh, but waves me away when I try to carry them myself.
We continue working through the mall.
I spot a store that sells underwear. My face reddens just from looking at the mannequins. They're quite lewd, and they all have such ridiculous big breasts. I eye the store, my stomach fluttering.
"Will you wait outside for me?"
"Yeah, they'll get mad if you give me a fashion show in there."
I grin and run inside, slowing when I see the breadth of the selection. There is so much, and I'm not sure what I'm looking for. Usually I choose something practical, but I want something Jason will want to see me wear.
"Excuse me, miss?" I ask one of the employees. "I need thongs. Do you have those?"
She gives me a quizzical look. "Yes. Ah, this way."
Jason seemed to like the idea of black silk, so I find some of those in my size and carry them with me while I shop.
I spot what I'm looking for, though I didn't know what it was until I saw it. It's black, lacy, and there is not much of it.
"May I try this on?" I ask the clerk.
"Sure, honey."
I hurry back to the changing rooms and strip out of my clothes to put it on. When I turn around and look at myself in the mirror, I gasp and start to turn red. My heart pounds at just the idea of Jason seeing me in this.
I quickly remove it and change back, and rush to the register to pay for it.
Making sure it's tucked in the bag so he won't see it, I hand the bag to him.
"All that to buy one thing?"
"Yes. Don't look."
"I won't. Uh, why?"
I grin. "It is a surprise."
He smiles, slowly.
"So what did you think of the mall?"
"I love it," I shout. "This will be a lot to carry on the bus."
"We'll Uber back to campus."
"What is an oo-ber?"
He gives me a funny look and just laughs while he plays with his phone.
"How are you going to get this stuff back in your house? I don't think you can carry it in the window."
I look at the purchases and frown. "We are not done, are we? It is only just afternoon."
"No, we're not done. I'll get us a ride back to my place."
A car pulls up, and Jason opens the door for me. I sit inside while he puts the things I bought in the trunk, and then he gets in with me and pulls me across the seat so I sit close with him.
"This whole place is completely strange to you, isn't it?"
I nod.
"You need to see more than a mall. This was so cheesy. We'll do other stuff, I swear."
The ride back is much faster than a bus trip. Back at the house, Jason rushes me inside before carrying all the bags in from the sidewalk.
"The brothers must be out. Hey, let's put this together."
He fishes out the first thing we bought, the building set.
Together, we sit on the couch in the front room. I start sorting the pieces first, putting like with like. It makes a series of piles that cover the whole table. Jason drags the table closer to the couch, and I hunch over it, rubbing shoulders with him as we read the directions.
"You're adorable when you concentrate," he says.
"Mmm-hmm," I reply, engrossed in the project.
The directions take some getting used to. It's all pictures, and I have to count the studs on the bricks. Jason helps, and we pass the pieces back and forth and slowly start building a castle from the bricks.
When the little drawbridge goes up and down, I swell with excitement and pride.
"Ana?" Jason says casually. "Have you, um, never done this before?"
"No. I never had any toys or dolls. I should buy some dolls. Do women buy dolls? I do not wish to be silly."
"I don't care if you buy dolls. It's not silly to me."
I grow bold, though my voice wavers. "I do not want a doll. I want a kiss."
Jason gives me one, softly on the lips. I kiss him back, and warmth spreads through my body. His big fingers gently pinch the tab on the zipper of my stolen hoodie, and he tugs it down, and spreads the garment open. He puts his hands up under the fabric, up my sides, and pulls me on top of him as he falls on his back.
"What are you doing?"
"I don't know. You're warm."
"Am I?" I say, and touch his cheeks.
He yelps, and jerks under me.
"Your hands are cold."
I smile at him and tug his shirt loose from his jeans, and run my hands up his chest. He shivers from the chill, but he's so warm to the touch I can't believe he's cold.
"You like being cold," he murmurs.
"What makes you say so?"
"You don't wear a lot of heavy clothes in the winter. You go running in just a shirt and warmup pants."
"You've been watching me run."
"Princess, I have something terrible to tell you."
"Tell me. Then I'll get angry and show you how cold my feet are."
"I've wanted you since the first time I saw you."
"When was that?"
Jason pulls me closer, wrapping his hand around the back of my neck to press me in so he breathes and whispers against my ear.
"Our freshman year. You were wearing one of those goofy dresses. You had Fenstermacher's geography course. Remember how he would go on about—"
"Arid and semiarid lands," I finish the sentence for him. "A very dry subject."
He smiles. "Yeah. You always sat in front. I sat in the back with the bad kids. You were more interesting than the lectures."
Jason runs his hand over my hair.
"I never saw you until the game, when Dee talked me into going. She says you are a player."
"I do play football."
"She means a player of women. A loose man."
"Do you think I am?"
"You have played very well with me. I am wrapped around your smallest finger. It makes me wonder." I grin.
"Are you working up to the 'how many girls' question?"
"Perhaps I am. Perhaps I am wondering if you will assume that is what I mean."
"You say perhaps a lot."
I giggle.
"Do y
ou want the truth?"
"Yes."
"Hmmm," he says, rubbing my back. "Then we need to play Truth or Dare, don't we?"
"Truth or Dare?"
"It's a game. We take turns. You decide, a question or a dare. A challenge. If you don't answer, you have to take the challenge."
"Are you going to challenge me to take my clothes off?"
He laughs and hugs me against him. "No. It's more fun if I challenge you to take them off one piece at a time."
"I agree to this game. For now."
"You have to go first. Truth or dare?"
"Dare," I purr.
Jason smirks. "I dare you to go upstairs with me."
I slowly disentangle myself from him and step away, then saunter up the stairs.
When he gets to the top, he takes me by the hips and pushes me toward his bedroom, but I push back just a bit, my hands on his shoulders, as though we are about to dance.
"You said upstairs. You must take your turn now."
He gives me an annoyed look, but a smile pulls at his lips.
"Oh, I see how it is. Fine. Dare."
"I dare you to take off your shirt."
He laughs loudly. "Oh really. Done."
He whips it over his head in one smooth motion.
I suck in a breath. Just the act of removing a t-shirt is astonishing and sends quivering heat flickering through my body. I stop myself from licking my lips, or from touching him, though my hands almost reach his chest before I snatch them back. He's broad, powerfully built, and has muscles so hard and tight that I can see a V-shape above the waistband of his jeans.
The urge to pull them down is irresistible.
"Your turn."
"Dare."
"Bedroom."
I scamper ahead of him into his room, and he pushes the door shut, tosses his shirt on the bed, and surges toward me, taking me by the arms to push me onto the bed.
I wriggle loose and slip around him, out of his grasp. He turns around, exasperated.
"You said bedroom. You never said—"
"You like to tease, don't you?"
"Yes. That is my truth. Now it is your turn."
He snorts and bites his lip. "Fine. Truth."
"How many girls have you slept with?"
"Three."
"Tell me about them."
"I answered you. Time for your dare, Princess."
Player's Princess (A Royal Sports Romance) Page 15
