It wasn’t the first time I’d woken up without him, but my curiosity finally got the better of me. I reached for the soft robe I’d dropped at the end of the bed and wrapped myself in it.
“Prince?” I said softly as I walked barefoot down the hall. It was an area I’d never ventured into since that first night he’d warned me off sternly. Even after so much had changed between us, I was still hesitant as I headed toward the firmly shut door. A strip of light shone from underneath it, and I knew he must be inside. Where else would he be?
“Prince, are you in there?” I said again, then reached out and turned the handle.
The room within made my eyes widen. The man I’d come to know these past weeks was disciplined in a way that was utterly intimidating. Every aspect of his world was subjected to his iron control.
This place was a complete disaster zone!
A space as big as his master bedroom had been converted into what looked like a workshop. Workbenches had been built around the outskirts, with several wide tables and chairs set out in the middle. Every available space was littered with wires, cables, and unidentifiable components.
And at the center of it all was my naked lover. His back was to me, and a pair of headphones explained why he was still oblivious to my presence. I stepped over the threshold and moved toward him, staring around, and trying to make sense of it all. There were circuit boards everywhere, stripped bare of their wiring and elements. Computers towers were stacked on tables, some naked of their casings, their inner workings exposed. Laptops, tablets and mobile phones were similarly displayed. It was like some sort of crazy computer graveyard.
“Prince,” I said for the third time and put my hand on his shoulder.
He shot out of his seat and spun to face me. “Jesus!” he burst out, yanking off the headphones and staring at me in a mixture of surprise and horror. He was wearing heavy, black-framed eyeglasses that enhanced the green of his eyes in a way that was unnerving. I blinked.
“What the fuck, Sasha! What are you doing here?” he barked.
I shrank back. “I was looking for you,” I said in a tiny voice. His expression terrified me. “I’m so sorry. I’ll leave.”
He remained silent, almost seeming to bristle with rage, and I took a slow step away.
“No. No, wait.” He reached out and stopped me. He rubbed the bridge of his nose with his thumb and forefinger, touched the spectacles and quickly took them off. “I didn’t mean that.” He sighed and seemed to ease a little. “Don’t go.”
I paused, then relaxed. “What is this place?” I asked, glancing around some more. It was hard to imagine what he could be doing in here every night.
“My workshop.” He pulled a face.
“Workshop?” I repeated. “What are you building here?” It certainly wasn’t a motor shop, or any kind of woodworking studio. And from the looks of the computers in the place, nobody would entrust one to him unless they wanted it to die.
“A few things,” he said vaguely, watching me as I walked around the room. He seemed uncomfortable with me in his space, and I took care not to touch anything. The place may seem chaotic, but I knew sometimes that’s how brilliant people worked.
“Like what?” I was growing more curious, peering more closely at the items around me. Above the work benches, the walls were dotted with technical diagrams. One side was completely covered in framed certificates and news clippings.I stepped closer, aware that he’d moved behind me, hovering slightly.
“Microchips. Processors…integrated circuits.” He shifted awkwardly.
“Sounds complicated.”
“Mm-hmm.”
I leaned forward to read a clipped article. “Who’s Alec Walker?” I asked, feeling something connecting in my mind.
“Me,” he replied simply. I looked at him sharply.
“Your name is Alec?” I pressed further.Of course it is…On the wall was a pic of a kid receiving some sort of award. Lanky. Serious. Decades younger. Same style of dark-rimmed glasses. Same beautiful eyes.
He nodded. I’d invaded his most private space, and he didn’t know what to do with this moment.
“Why do they call you Prince?” I asked yet another question.
He shrugged. “My dad liked it. Said I’d be the Prince of Manhattan if he could make it happen. It was a joke at first. Guess it stuck.”
“I like Alec,” I murmured. It’s how I first knew him. How I sometimes still thought of him.
“So does my mother.” He smiled slightly. I ran my finger over a valedictorian award. Nearby was a trophy for some sort of science achievement.
“Why do you keep all this locked in here?” I asked. He was still allowing my questions, and I was going to keep going until he stopped me. But I could see it was wearing him. He wasn’t accustomed to being so far out of control. He turned back to his desk, and I watched as he sat down again.
