His words caught me off guard. Maybe he still needed to hear the things I wanted to share with him. And maybe he wasn’t just talking about sex.
“Don’t say that.” My own voice was rough; barely more than a whisper. “You’re sexy as hell to me, Mitchell. I wasn’t lying when I said I fantasized about you.”
He kneaded my ass, pulling me closer.
“But I think aboutyoutoo,” I said. “Like how sweet you are, even if you think you’re not. How you listen to me when most men only want to stare at my tits.”
“Are you kidding me?” Mitchell husked. “I am the number one fan of your tits.”
I laughed. “Okay. But when I have a shirt on, you look at my face.”
“With great effort.”
“No.” I shook my head, pushing him off me just slightly so I could meet his eyes. “I told you not to do that, Mitchell. Don’t pretend you’re the asshole you make yourself out to be. I told you before you’re a good person.”
“You don’t like me better when I’m some aloof mysterious asshole?”
“I like you just the way you are.”
Mitchell’s throat bobbed. I rose up on my toes and kissed it, right where his pulse fluttered.
Was it his father’s voice that still ran through him? He’d told me more about him. That he burned his first attempt at a novel. I was still livid thinking about it. Still heartbroken when I thought of that little boy.
“I…” he closed his eyes. He was trying to say something. Maybe he was finally going to believe what I was telling him, but he didn’t feel safe enough to say it.
“You’re so good, Mitchell,” I told him again, needing to make him understand. “You’re a knight. A prince under all that armor. My noble and gallant…”Prince.
My words dropped off. It was supposed to be a joke. A nod to the fantasy books he liked. But what I said hit me like a brick in my chest.
Mitchell’s eyes were intense; dark and heavy like a storm. “Winona,” he said. “What is it?”
All this time I’d thought my Prince Charming would come in the form of a safe and simple man. But that wasn’t what I needed. I need my Prince to take charge when I wanted him to. To push me to be a stronger person. The person I already was.
Mitchell was my Prince Charming.
And I couldn’t keep him. We were on a diverging path, only aligning at this castle for a short time.
“Firecracker,” Mitchell whispered.
I thought of all our late night conversations last week, knowing even then, but more so now, that they’d been a mistake.
Still, I opened my mouth. Still, I needed to know. “What were you going to say, Mitchell?” I whispered.
His eyes stayed on mine. But he didn’t speak. He just brought his hands to my cheeks. “I just… I never thought I’d feel this way. I?—”
I shook my head. Never mind. He couldn’t keep going. I’d die if he did. I’d shatter to pieces. I already had knowing the cruel irony of how short our time was.
Just have fun.Live a little, Winona.
Cher’s voice rang through me like a bell.
“Winona?” Mitchell looked truly concerned.
I smiled, wiping away the too-heavy thoughts. Though my smile, I knew, wobbled. I pressed a finger to his lips. “It’s okay, Mitchell,” I whispered. “Save the words for your book.”
That must have been the right thing to say, because he suddenly seemed to come back to himself. He smiled, and for the first time, it was almost shy.
“I finished,” he said.
