The Snow Prince - Raleigh Ruebins Page 0,42

the inside of his cheek. “I picture all sorts of things.”

I was afraid to ask what he meant by that. I couldn’t stop staring at the crook of his neck, his milky smooth skin peeking out of his collar.

He looked like a damn Renaissance painting. Lounging by the golden glow of the fireplace, lazily clutching his glass of scotch, his eyelashes two long, dark rows as he stared downward.

“Sebastian,” I said, my voice coming out low and quiet.

“Hmm?” he said, his eyes lifting to meet mine.

“Why do you do all this for me?” I asked.

“You’re my guest.”

“Right,” I said, “I guess this is how you treat all your guests.”

He let out a slow breath. “You know that isn’t true.”

I bit my lower lip, watching him, unable to take my eyes off of him. Why did he have to look so good, all of the time? It would all have been so much easier if Sebastian didn’t look like some sort of dark, fallen angel. If his eyes didn’t hold so much hope and pain and feeling.

It would all be so much easier if I didn’t know exactly how good his body felt when it was near mine.

The leather chair was absurdly comfortable. Too comfortable. I felt like it was swallowing me up, suddenly. Melting my brain into a state of over-relaxation, where I was liable to say things I shouldn’t say.

Or maybe it was the alcohol. It definitely couldn’t be helping.

I took in a sharp breath of air, standing up quickly and moving toward the far side of the room, lined with windows that led out toward the balcony. The air was cooler and refreshing, but it did nothing to stop the feeling I had that Sebastian’s eyes were burning into the back of my body.

I could feel him watching me. And I hated how much I fucking loved that.

I spun around and his eyes flitted up to meet mine.

“So why, then?” I pressed. “Why do all this for me? Why do this when you know I can’t be a part of your life? When you refuse to give up your duties as prince?”

He swallowed, pausing for a moment. He opened his mouth twice as if he was going to speak, but didn’t know how to do it.

I sighed, shaking my head. “I’m sorry,” I said. “You don’t have to answer that—”

“Because I’m still completely in love with you, Henry.”

Fuck.

Fuck, fuck, fuck.

I swallowed and my throat was dry. “You can’t be,” I said.

“I really am,” he said, like he was remarking on something that was just plain fact. “I don’t think I’ve spent a day of my life not loving you.”

His words made my sternum ache. I needed to sit down, and not in the fucking leather seat. By the balcony doors, there was a chess table with ridiculous-looking, stupidly fancy chairs.

I pulled one out and sat down, forcing myself to look out the window instead of at him. It was snowing again, very lightly this time, a slow cascade of tiny flakes blue against the night sky.

Why had I been running for so many years?

Why had my life been essentially on pause, as I struggled to figure out what I was even meant to do?

I was so tired of holding back. So tired of being a person who lived on scraps, both literally and figuratively. I wanted to indulge. I wanted it deep in my bones, the kind of craving that feels inevitable.

I wanted so, so much. And when I was with Sebastian, I couldn’t stop that wanting.

“This is another world,” I said quietly, shaking my head. “I feel like I stepped out of the timeline of my life and into… a different one entirely.”

“What do you mean?”

“I was so fucking alone, Sebastian,” I said, my tone coming out more intense than I’d meant it to be.

He looked at me like I’d just struck him.

“I’m so sorry,” he whispered.

“I don’t want an apology,” I said, letting out a long breath. “I just need you to understand. I need you to know how it feels to step into this world. It feels wrong, almost. Tangerines and chocolates and servants and staff.”

“It’s too much,” he said. “I know.”

“It’s too perfect,” I said.

“Perfect? I thought you hated it all.”

“I hate it and yet I don’t. Why is it such a contradiction?”

“Tell me about it,” he said. “I hated this place for so many years, and I still feel it pulling me in.”

“Exactly,” I said. “Exactly. I feel pulled in. Like I couldn’t