Page 9 of His Fairytale Princess
Turning into the long drive up to the house, I can’t help but smile.
“I’ve heard that before. Considering my name means princess, I get called that a lot. That’s a pretty big stereotype, though, don’t you think?”
He leans closer, even though our bodies are pretty close to begin with, and his warm breath is right at my neck. His woodsy, soapy scent permeates the air of the car and I breathe him in.
“Oh, you mean like the one you had about me when you learned I play hockey?”
I put the car in park and my mouth gapes open.
“What? I never…”
His brows shoot up and there’s an edge of a smile at the corner of his mouth.
“Most people think I’m either a dumb jock or a player. That’s okay, though, because I can generally dispel the myths once they get to know me.”
I watch as he slides out of the car and then all I can see are the tree trunks of his legs from my vantage point.
He has a point. Although I didn’t make any assumptions about him being a jock, I did assume he was something he isn’t based on just his name. How stupid was that? It makes me feel like a complete and utter judgmental ass, especially since he could have made the wrong assertions about me.
As I step out and around the back of the car, Preston’s hand is suddenly at my face, whisking away a flyaway strand of my hair.
“I hope you’re interested in getting to know me.” His green-blue eyes sparkle as he smiles down at me. My breath hitches as I part my lips, hoping for a kiss that doesn’t come.
Instead he leaves me hanging and pulls the bags out of the trunk and into the house as I stare after him, turned on and perplexed.
