I’d needed to hear that.
“Love you, man,” Jace added.
“Love you too, bruh.”
I appreciated the moment before we hung up. They’d been as good about my coming out as I could have hoped for, especially under the less than ideal circumstances.
I slipped off the bed, hurried to the door, and cracked it open. Owen stood in the hallway.
“Enjoying these quarters a little better?” he asked with a smirk, like he was trying to make me laugh, and I couldn’t help myself.
“Yeah, I was just about to jump on this big-ass bed before you interrupted me.”
“You did contact your family and friends and let them know you were all right?”
“What? Of course I did. I wasn’t actually about to jump on the bed.”
He seemed surprised by my remark. “I figured you were kidding about that. I was making sure you’d taken care of that before I talked to you.” He inhaled. “We seem to have a really difficult time understanding each other, despite speaking the same language.”
“Today’s been a lot for me,” I admitted.
“Well, do you mind if I come in so we can talk about it?”
“Be my guest.” I opened the door wider, and Owen stepped in and shut the door behind us.
Something about being alone in a bedroom with Owen stirred all sorts of intense fantasies—the sort that weren’t really practically possible. I imagined him lunging at me and making out with me the way we had at the bar. That, of course, would have naturally led to so much more. I allowed myself a moment to enjoy these reveries.
He pointed to the edge of the bed. “You mind if I sit down?”
All my fun daydreams vanished in an instant as I took in the stoic expression on his face. “Are you about to give me bad news? You look like you’re about to give me bad news.”
“Not at all. Everything’s fine. At least I hope everything’s fine. How are your injuries?”
“They feel better, now that they have some antiseptic on them.”
“I’m sorry for how horribly you’ve been treated.”
“It wasn’thorrible. The tasing was bad, and I’m still a little shaky, but seems like I’ll live. I talked to my mom and my brother just now.”
“And?”
“They’d heard the news, but I came out to them, and they were…as cool as I figured they would be about it.”
“Keeg, that’s incredible news. I’m so glad you had a chance to do that, but so sorry it had to be under these circumstances.” I eyed him for a moment, and he seemed surprised by the way I was studying him. “What is it?”
“To be honest, Prince Owen Hawthorne III,” I replied, saying his full name if only to help myself grasp how surreal our situation was, “I have the most conflicting images of you in my head: One version wants to punch my lights out. One’s worried out of his mind about his niece. One’s a fucking liar about his name and who he is. Another is all concerned, tending to my injuries and trying to make sure I’m all right.”
“I think you’ll find I’m a terribly complicated man.”
I wanted to make a joke about how I could be fairly easy, but I could still tell he wanted to discuss something with me, so instead I said, “Okay, let’s sit, and just be out with this bad new shit you have to tell me.”
We sat beside one another on the end of the bed.
“Is it that I need to leave? I’m fine with going. I have a hotel room with my friends. I’m only in here because this is where the guards took me and I don’t want to wind up getting in more trouble for not doing what they say.”
“What? No. Of course that’s not it. I’m not trying to scare you off, but actually quite the opposite.”
“Oh, really?” I asked, intrigued.
