by Lina Langley
Dallas watched them as they all filed out of the lobby, surrounding Simon so that he was out of view. One of the men, an officer in plain clothes, hung back. “Someone will come collect his stuff tonight.”
Dallas closed his eyes. Jackson and Eros were alternating between watching Simon as he was dragged out and Dallas’ reaction, which he didn’t appreciate at all.
Dallas opened his eyes and tried to focus on the mass of people moving away instead of the officer who had just slammed the door as he left.
“The fuck was that about?” Jackson said the moment that they were out of view.
Dallas glared at him. “You’re at work.”
“Sorry, boss,” Jackson said.
Dallas shook his head and took a deep breath. “It’s okay,” he said. “Get back to work.”
Jackson did as he was told, but Eros continued to stand next to him, a questioning look in his eyes.
“Both of you.”
Eros nodded, taking his place next to Jackson behind the front desk. Dallas walked upstairs, not looking back once. He wasn’t sure what he was supposed to do.
“If they come back,” he said, more to himself than to either one of them, “Just let them in.”
CHAPTER SEVEN
Dallas tried his best not to think about Simon. It shouldn’t have been difficult, he had only been in Dallas’ life for less than a week, but Dallas felt like everything had changed for him then. He didn’t have to worry that much about the business taxes anymore, but running a business was hard and his heart hadn’t been in it lately. He thought that the reason he might be hyperfocusing on Simon wasn’t because he liked Simon that much—he hardly knew the guy—but because he was the first guy that he had actually gone out on a date with in what seemed like forever. He was probably just lonely, which made it easy for his mind to wander back into what had happened and what hadn’t happened with Simon.
After seeing one of Eros increasingly frequent pitying looks, Dallas decided that he needed to get out of the inn and go on a date, any date.
He had contacted his friend Jesse to set him up with Branden, a guy from Jesse’s work that Jesse had mentioned a couple of times. Dallas hadn’t felt up to dating in forever. It was way too much effort, took too much of his time, and he never found anyone that he liked enough to consider a serious candidates.
Plus there was the social fallout. His friends weren’t dicks or anything, it was just that Dallas didn’t want to face the pressure of hearing what their friends thought about Dallas.
Dallas was never interested in more and his reactions always ranged from feeling slightly guilty to feeling mildly annoyed. He would’ve liked to be into the people his friends introduced him, but even when they got along okay, Dallas felt like there was something missing or that he just wasn’t the kind of person that could be in a relationship.
It had been so long since another man filled his every thought, since the first thing that he did when he woke up in the morning was smell the pillow next to him to fill his nose, since he’d closed his eyes just to see the face of another guy.
He wanted to feel that intensity again, but none of the men that his friends set him up with—when they could be bothered, Dallas was a hard man to satisfy—were men that Dallas could feel that with.
It was stupid.
They were perfectly nice guys, attainable guys, clearly not Dallas’ type. Now he was feeling consumed by Simon and he didn’t want to be, so he had been the one to initate the matchmaking and the moment that he had sat down to dinner, he had already regretted it.
He started to compare everything that they were doing to what he might be doing with Simon—which was stupid.
Branden was perfectly nice and polite. He was cute, too, with a nice blonde beard, beautiful green eyes and a cute smile. Branden laughed at Dallas’ jokes, he talked about his family and his cats, he said that he painted in his spare time.
There was nothing wrong with him. After dinner, when Branden had sneakily paid for all their food even though Dallas had fully intended to go Dutch, they’d gotten coffee and Branden had asked him if he wanted to go back to his place.
Dallas didn’t think that he did, but he couldn’t come up with any excuses and he did want to forget about Simon for a little while, even if it was only for the night. He took a huge sip of his coffee, which burned his tongue, and nodded as Branden told him that his roommate wasn’t going to be there, that he had the apartment all to himself for weeks.
Branden said that he could stay the night if he wanted to, then laughing, he told him that he could stay the entire week if they got along during the night.
He had winked at him, running his tongue over his lips, which were covered by his beard so Dallas couldn’t really see him. The gesture made him shudder, but not in a good way, and his head was spinning even as he walked out with Branden, even as he got in the passenger seat of Branden’s car.
Branden was a perfect gentleman, holding the door open for him, asking him if he was too warm and turning up the AC when he had nodded wordlessly. He had asked him if he was allergic to cats because he had at least one cat, whose name was Mr. Wuffles, and he could be kind of friendly with people.
Dallas snickered at hearing the cat’s name coming from Branden’s mouth and then tried his best to focus on anything other than the pit growing in his stomach.
Branden had opened the door for him, grabbed his hand and held him out, and then he had pinned him against the car and pressed his lips up against him, a playful kiss that Dallas should have appreciated. In theory, at least, Dallas should have appreciated it.
Branden was good looking, all muscles and lines under the long-sleeved white button-up, his biceps clearly visible, his chest pressing against Dallas’ own, which was pitiful in comparison, but even as he pressed his lips back into Branden’s, trying to lose himself in his scent, in the way his beard felt on his skin, this wasn’t doing anything for him.
His body wasn’t reacting at all, and he only felt a twinge of anything when he closed his eyes and thought of kissing Simon instead, which didn’t feel fair to him at all.
He jerked away from Branden and shook his head. Branden let him go, staring at him, his brow furrowed.
“I’m sorry,” Dallas had said. “I can’t.”
That was that. Branden hadn’t questioned him, he’d just nodded once again and then he’d driven him home, even after Dallas told him that he had no problem calling a car to take him back to the inn.
Branden didn’t seem to think that it was a disaster. He’d lean over and kissed Dallas on the cheek, the same cheek that Simon had kissed him on, and Dallas’ heart had skipped in his chest. Not because he suddenly wanted Branden, because it felt like it was erasing Simon’s kiss, which Dallas knew was ridiculous.
He still had to tell himself to hold still, not to jerk away from Branden, who wasn’t at fault at all. Branden had been perfectly nice, and Dallas didn’t want to make him feel bad, so he waited as Branden told Dallas to call him and Dallas nodded and said nothing.
He hoped that meant that he got the message. He didn’t want to disappoint him and he didn’t want to disappoint his friend Jesse either.
He had been the one to initiate this after all, and he felt a little guilty that he wasn't feeling it. In theory, he understood that Branden was probably out of his league. In practice, all that he could think about was Simon. It was awful, every time he closed his eyes, every time that he looked up at the room that Simon had been in for a couple of days, which was now occupied by a very sweet honeymooning couple from Italy, all that Dallas could think about was Simon.
The way that he looked when his robe had slipped off his shoulders, the way his brown eyes glimmered when he smiled, the way his lower lip was just slightly bigger than his upper lip. Dallas sighed, rubbing the bridge of his nose.
He needed it to stop. He needed to be able to go out on dates with perfectly acceptable candidates, he needed to be able to keep living his life, and it
didn't matter what an irrelevant prince in a country that he had never heard of before he had met him was doing. It didn't matter that they never got to have dinner, or that they never got to have an actual date. It didn’t matter that every time that he got a phone call from an unknown number his heart would leap in his chest and he would think that Simon was finally calling him.
It didn’t matter that it was never Simon. He had nearly lost his shit on so many telemarketers and robocalls that it had stopped being funny. Now he didn’t hope for Simon to call him again, he was pretty sure that it was never going to happen, and he needed to stop hoping for something that was never going to happen to suddenly and randomly materialized.
He was brushing his teeth, his laptop opened on his bed, when he heard Skype ring. He wasn’t expecting a call, and surprise phone calls on his computer were rare and far between.
He walked over to his laptop, put on his shirt, noticed that whoever was calling him wasn't his friend. Part of him was tempted to just send them to voicemail, or whatever the Skype equivalent of that was, but he stopped himself. Regardless of the fact that he knew that it wasn't Simon who was calling him, there was a part of him that just really hoped that it was, and he would kick himself forever if he let it go.
He was braced for disappointment when he pressed the green button. “Hello?”
“Hi,” Simon said.
Dallas’ gaze widened. Simon sounded like he was far away, like he was in a room with tin walls. But it was him, Dallas recognized him instantly, both from his voice and from his accent. “Simon?”
“I’m sorry, I know it’s taken me awhile to get back to you,” Simon said. “I thought I’d be able to the moment I came home, but it’s been a few weeks of—well, fuck, it doesn’t matter.”
Dallas stared at his computer. Simon hadn’t used the webcam feature, so Dallas could only hear his voice. He was glad that he hadn’t, he didn’t want Simon to see what an embarrassing mess he was right then, so relieved only because Simon had finally deigned to call him. Like a teenage fucking boy or something.
Dallas was appropriately ashamed of himself, but he hoped the relief wasn’t that clear in his voice when he spoke. He didn’t like the idea that Simon would be able to know the effect he had on him, even when they weren’t even seeing each other—both literally and figuratively. “I didn't think you'd be calling me.”
Simon chuckled and the signal went a little bit staticky. Dallas’ eyes widened as he tried to ignore his growing anxiety. He sat down in front of the computer, then grabbed it and placed it on his legs, feeling the warmth of it on his lap.
“Why are you surprised? I said I'd call you, right?”
Dallas nodded, fully aware that Simon couldn’t see him. “Yeah, I guess you did.”
“I’m sorry—I know it’s been weeks.”
Dallas didn’t want to say that it was okay, because it wasn’t. He was angry that Simon hadn’t contacted him, not even to tell him what the fuck was going on, but he was also fully aware that Simon didn’t owe him anything.
“Dallas?”
“It’s okay.”
“You sound mad.”
“I am. A little. I’ll get over it.”
“I couldn't call you on your cell phone.”
“Why?”
Dallas heard Simon take a deep breath. There was a surge of static again and for a second, Dallas thought that the call would be disconnected, but it wasn’t.
“Okay, if I tell you, you have to promise you’re not going to hang up on me.”
Dallas felt his cheeks flush red. “Why would I hang up on you?”
“I have a feeling that you’re going to have good reason to soon. But if you don’t, I’ll explain everything. Wait, what time is it over there?”
“It’s just gone midnight. What about where you are?”
“Ten past six. In the morning.”
“Oh.”
“I didn’t wake you up, did I?”
“No,” Dallas replied. “I was about to go to bed.”
“Oh. Have you had a good weekend so far?”
“Simon.”
“I'm sorry. I'll get to it, I just really don't want you to hang up.”
“I won't hang up. Unless you don't tell me, and then I'll definitely hang up.”
Simon laughed, quickly, quietly, through the tinny speakers of Dallas’ laptop. It hurt. “Okay, I'll tell you.”
Dallas waited.
He heard Simon sigh as he started to talk. “Okay, so you know when the people that finally came into the inn were outside of the hotel and they seemed to be circling The Diamond?”
“Yeah, when I had to ask you if it had anything to do with you. But you told me it didn't, so...”
“Mostly it didn’t, but in a way, it did.”
Simon didn’t say anything else, which meant that Dallas had to prompt him to keep talking.
“Okay, what do you mean by that?” Dallas asked.
“Yeah, because you thought I was some sort of criminal or something.”
“Right.”
“But I'm not.”
“I know,” Dallas replied. “You’re a prince.”
He didn’t mention how many times he had read Simon’s Wikipedia page. That seemed irrelevant.
“Right, yes. The Prince of Maitje.”
“Do I have to call you your majesty?”
“In bed, if you want.”
Dallas practically chocked on his own spit, putting his fist in front of his face to muffle the sound.
Simon chuckled lightly. “You liked that, huh?”
“Stop it.”
“I take it that’s your safe word?”
“Oh my god, Simon.”
“Sorry, I just—I don’t know how to even start talking about this.”
“What did the men in black have to do with you?”
“Those are my body guards.”
“And the plains clothes people?”
“San Leandre police. They were working with them.”
“You’re still going to have to fill in some gaps here.”
Simon sighed. Dallas gave him a second, just the amount of time that he needed to also calm himself down. Talking to Simon was harder than he had been anticipating.
“Sure, I'll fill in some gaps. You know that the moment that I graduated, I should have come back to my country, to the Kingdom of Maitje. I was expected to come back once my university education ended for a huge variety of reasons.”
“Right.”
“The main one was to find someone to marry.”
Dallas swallowed down the lump in his throat. “Someone to marry,” he repeated. It wasn’t a question, it didn’t need to be a question, but Dallas wasn’t sure what it was.
Simon sighed again. “I neglected to tell you that because I didn't want you to feel like I don't want to date you seriously.”
Dallas shook his head. “I mean, you weren’t even here for a full week. I hardly expected you to date me seriously.”
There was a long silence on the line before Simon replied. “Maybe it was me then. Maybe I wanted to tell myself that it could be serious.”
Dallas bit his lower lip. He didn’t want to ask him if it was serious for him, because he knew that whatever answer Simon was going to give him, it would just hurt.
He knew it was stupid, that it didn’t matter. He kept his mouth shut, ignoring the growing heat on his legs from the laptop.
Simon continued speaking after a bit when Dallas didn’t say anything. “I never really escaped, Dallas. I hung up on my dad, told him I wasn’t going to take my flight home—that I was staying with some friends that he knew. But I never got to their house.”
“Because you’d come to The Butterfly Inn?”
“Yes, exactly,” Simon replied. “See, I thought I had been so clever. I’ve never really tried to do this before, I never had the resources to, but I thought… well, I’m an adult now, right? It’s now or never.”
“Right.”
“Out of what?”
“If there’s one thing I’ve learned over the past few weeks, it’s that you can’t outrun your lot in life.”
“What do you mean?”
“My father is very rich,” Simon said with a heavy sigh. “If he doesn’t want me to disappear, then I don't disappear, basically. He had someone trailing my every move, Dallas.”
“So you only thought that you'd escaped for a bit, but you actually hadn’t?”
“That’s exactly right.”
“But he let you think you had?”
“Yes. See, normally what happens when I stay in a hotel, is that our staff goes through the hotel before we get there.”
“Why?”
“Well, they make sure that the rooms are safe, that there are no bombs or anything, that the staff isn’t against the monarchy. Things like that.”
Dallas could feel himself faltering. As ridiculous as that sounded, the idea that Simon was in danger had never really occurred to him. He had jumped to the conclusion that Simon was a criminal, which made him feel like a piece of shit, but thinking that he was a prince was so ridiculous, so impossible, it had simply never occurred to him.
“That’s smart.”
“It's really smart. Now, I'm less paranoid than my father, but there was a bomb threat called to The Diamond the day that my staff was there.”
Dallas dug his hands into the sheet under him, feeling dazed, unsteady. “A bomb threat related to you?”
“They still don't know, but that is the assumption they're making.”
“Holy shit, Simon, are you okay?”
“Yeah, don't worry about it,” Simon said. He didn’t sound worried at all, but it didn’t make Dallas feel any better. “Assassination attempts are a dime a dozen, literally nothing ever happens.”
