Page 400 of One More Kiss

“Gee, subtle subject change, Cradle Robber.”

With a smirk, he asks, “Never gonna let me live that down, are you?”

“Like I said, not if Princess is on the table. And yes, I’m hungry,” I admit. “Do you like tacos?”

“What’s wrong with Princess? What’s wrong with someone wanting to take care of you or treat you like royalty? Even if it’s just for one night,” he clarifies. “And yes, I like tacos.”

“Perfect. Turn right at the light. Burrito Bandito will be on the left. Their tacos are to die for. And nothing is wrong with someone taking care of someone else or being treated like royalty. I guess my dad taught me to be a strong, independent woman.”

Flicking on his blinker, he follows my directions before asking, “And being worshipped and cared for takes away your independence?”

I shrug. “I dunno? Maybe? I guess I’ve never thought of it that way. And since when does one worship a princess?”

“Hmm,” he hums. “Would you prefer Goddess?”

“I would prefer Sammie,” I quip.

He shakes his head, his mouth curled with amusement. “Nah, I don’t think so.”

“And why’s that?”

“Because I’m getting under your skin.”

“And you like getting under people’s skin?” I challenge.

He grins. “Just yours. But it’s a moot point, anyway.”

“Oh really? Why’s that?”

“Because I think you’re taking out your frustration on me when the real villains are all the boys you’ve wasted your time with that've been doing it wrong.”

“Doing what wrong?”

“Worshipping you. Taking care of you. Making you feel like royalty without taking your independence.”

I purse my lips, trying to rein in the butterflies assaulting my stomach, but it’s no use. They’re in full-blown attack mode, and I’m seconds from swooning. What girl doesn’t want to be worshipped? To be shown what it’s like to be appreciated, both physically and emotionally. And he’s right. I’ve never bothered to give any guy the time of day because I thought that if I did, I’d be giving up my independence.

However, with how Hawthorne is putting it, it sounds like it can be the opposite. But only when you’re with the right guy, and I’m afraid I haven’t met him yet. Or at least, not before tonight.

When I realize he’s still waiting for my reply, I shrug and lie, “Meh. I get by.”

“I’m sure you do. You’re a resourceful little princess, aren’t you.” It isn’t a question.

“I guess you could say that. Tell me, do you call all your one-night stands Princess?”

“Only if they fit the bill.”

“Oh.”

Ouch.

I turn toward the side window, praying he can’t see my frown or feel my jealousy that’s simmering just beneath the surface. I shouldn’t care. I barely know this guy. And I’ve never been the jealous type. But the idea of someone else being his princess for the night?

It kinda stings.

“But,” he adds, “I’ve yet to meet someone who’s fit the bill before tonight.”

“Oh,” I repeat, tucking my hair behind my ear.

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