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His hands sweep over my back and comb my hair off my face. We say nothing. For a few moments, nothing needs to be said. A part of me says we just crossed a line that can’t be uncrossed, but a larger part of me doesn’t care.
And a few hours later, when we make use of another of the two last condoms in my drawer, I still can’t bring myself to worry about it. Not even a little bit.
20
Silas
Waking up next to Jazz is bittersweet. It’s exactly where I want to be, but I know I’ll have to leave within a few hours. She sleeps calmly beside me, the sheet pulled up under her armpits and her dark hair splayed over the pillow. Soft snores escape her nose, and I can’t keep the smile off my face.
I reach over to brush a strand of hair off her forehead as my heart squeezes.
I know we can never be together. She hates everything I am—she’d never give up her career to be with someone. Her reputation would never recover.
At the same time, though, being beside her in bed is the most peaceful I’ve ever felt. Even though her mattress sinks down in the middle and her pillows aren’t pure goose down, it feels more luxurious than any other bed I’ve woken up in.
Sighing as she blinks her eyes open, a soft smile tugs at Jazz’s lips. “Hi.”
“Morning, gorgeous.”
“I’m sure I don’t look gorgeous right now,” she laughs, snuggling closer to me.
There goes my chest, collapsing painfully on me again. I wrap my arms around her, wondering how many times I’ll get to do this. Will my life ever be the same now that I know what it feels like to have her beside me? Will I be able to go back on tour and do my royal duties now that I know what’s here in Nord?
Jazz rubs her eyes and tilts her head toward me, smiling. “How long have you been awake?”
“A few minutes.”
“When do you have to leave?”
“Are you trying to get rid of me so soon?”
She chuckles. “Maybe.” Her fingers pinch my side and I yelp, laughing. Jazz nuzzles into my chest. “Just a few more minutes in bed.”
Sighing, I wrap my arms around her and hold her close. I know once we leave this bed, things will change. I’ll have to leave; she’ll have to either go to work or go to her mother. The real world will crowd in on us again, and this little bubble we’ve created will burst.
Sensing my thoughts, Jazz pulls away to meet my eyes. “So, what now?”
“What do you mean?” I ask, even though I know exactly what she’s talking about. I’m just hoping to buy myself some time before I need to answer.
“Well, I won’t be able to go back on tour. I’ve already spoken to my boss, and he’s sending someone else from the office. You’re going back today, and”—she shakes her head—“I’m being super clingy and ridiculous. I know whatever this is needs to stay casual, and you’re a prince and I’m not exactly receptive to the royal fam—”
I kiss her hard, because I don’t want to hear the next words out of her mouth. I don’t want to hear her explaining these feelings away or making excuses for why we can’t be together.
I need to know that when I leave, it won’t be the end of this connection between us. I need her to understand that I don’t care about my royal title, that somehow we can make this work. I don’t know how, but we can. I need to be able to talk to her again, to come back to Nord and sleep in this bed again, to wake up beside her every day for the rest of my life.
This can’t be it. I can’t know what it feels like to have her and then walk away from it.
“Can I photograph you, Jazz? Like this?” My voice is soft. Hesitant.
“Right now?” She blinks, frowning.
I chuckle. “Yes. The way you look right now… I want to be able to remember what it’s like to be right here with you. I want to know that it can happen again when I get back.”
Her eyes widen, lips falling open. I watch her gulp, then dip her chin down. “Okay. Can I brush my hair?”
“No. You have no idea how perfect you look, Jazz. Just like that. I’m going to get my camera from my briefcase. Promise me you won’t move.”
A soft smile appears on her lips. “Okay. I promise. I’m not promising I’ll be any good at modeling.”
