Glass Castle Prince Read online

  I huffed, rummaging a block of cheese from the fridge for him to wield his sword skills upon. “Please. You are pretty much the taste everyone has acquired.”

  Edward ran the knife under the faucet to clean it, staring at it with unfocused eyes. “The taste they’ve acquired is that of my title and influence, nothing more.”

  When he was finished slicing the cheese, he slid the cutting board in my direction. I focused on flipping the burgers and layering the cheese on good and thick, unsure how to respond to his last comment.

  “I’m sorry for the way I behaved last night.” His throat moved as he set two plates on the humble table tucked into the corner, the very opposite of the grand twenty-seat table in the dining room. “I was tired and grumpy and didn’t mean to take it out on you and Theo.”

  My feet shifted. “Apology accepted.”

  Edward grabbed the bag of buns from above the fridge when I motioned at them. “So are you planning on seeing more of Theo? Just so I don’t attack someone with a kitchen implement if they come through the back door.” His mouth quirked as he layered the buns into the toaster.

  My teeth worked at my lip. “I’m not sure.”

  “Last night, from where I was standing, both of you looked quite sure of the other.”

  My eyes lifted as I turned off the burner. “I don’t know. He didn’t ask for my number or anything before he left. Not that I’d expect a call if he did after the way I froze up last night . . . ” My voice trailed off, but it was too late. I’d uttered out loud what my subconscious had been chastising me for all day.

  When the buns popped out of the toaster, I flinched.

  Edward’s hand circled as he scooted closer. “Continue.”

  “Can we change the subject?” My eyes clamped closed as the image of me locking up like a deer in the headlights burned the backs of my eyeballs.

  “What do you mean, you froze up?” He slathered butter onto the buns so I could plop the burgers onto them.

  “I froze up,” I repeated. It seemed obvious what that meant.

  “Nothing about how I found you two would imply freezing up. More along the lines of the opposite.”

  Fighting mortification, I assembled my burger while Edward waited for me to finish.

  “He was kissing me.” I slapped the top of my bun on once I was finished. “But I wasn’t really kissing him back. Much.”

  My forehead tapped the cupboard in front of me. The kiss of a lifetime, and I’d blown it. I’d been about as inviting and warm as a dead fish.

  “Like he forced you . . . ?” Edward’s hand curled around the edge of the counter.

  My head shook as I wandered to the table. “No. I just experienced a total moment of failure. I was ready for him to kiss me, I wanted him to kiss me, and then when he did, all I could do was stand there.”

  Edward slid into the chair beside me, his burger plain compared to how I’d assembled mine. “You’ve been kissed before, right?”

  “Yes!” My answer was too immediate. And emphatic. “It’s just been a while. A long while,” I added when he gave me another look.

  “So you’re a little rusty. Nothing a little practice won’t work out.” He shrugged, reaching for the mustard to add to his burger.

  While he swirled on the yellow condiment, my mind raced from what he’d said. A little practice.

  Practice.

  “God, this is good,” he half-moaned after taking his first bite. “What’s this made of again?”

  I gave him a funny look as I added some ketchup to mine. The only thing mustard was good for was the trash can. “Ground beef.”

  “Well, it’s better than any Kobe beef my dad’s had shipped in from Japan.”

  I sucked a dollop of ketchup from my finger. “You’ve never had a cheeseburger before?”

  “Not that I’m aware of.”

  “I’ve probably eaten thousands,” I said, watching him tear off another bite as though the last meal he’d eaten was a week ago. “Although I guess I can see why a cheeseburger isn’t on the royal menu.”

  “Anything one eats with their fingers is forbidden. That’s one of the first rules I’m going to change when and if I ever do take over for my father.”

  I paused right before taking a bite. “When and if?”

  Edward took a drink of his water, a storm erupting in his eyes.

  After a moment, I asked, “Am I to take your silence as a sign that you don’t want to talk about it?”

  “I’ll talk about anything but that.” He distracted himself with his burger, though he didn’t seem to be enjoying it as much as before.

  Good segue. Or at least a decent one.

  “Circling back to the Theo topic and you mentioning all I needed was a little practice?” While I waited for him to catch up to my topic change, I nibbled off a bit of bun. This was too awkward a topic to discuss while really digging into a juicy cheeseburger.

  Edward shifted in his chair. “Yeah?”

  I tucked my leg beneath me and contemplated how best to word this crazy idea. “You don’t really want to practice with the person you want to perfect the art for, right?”

  He set down his cheeseburger. “How about instead of leading me to the big reveal with a series of leading questions, you just come right out and say it?”

  My mouth opened.

  Nothing came out.

  Clearing my throat, I tried again.

  Same result.

  The longer I struggled, the deeper the crease between Edward’s brows carved. From the looks of him, it was as though I was about to announce I was carrying his triplets.

  “You’re not the kind of person who finds herself at a loss for words. I’m not sure whether to run while I still can or document the rare moment.” One corner of his mouth lifted, but beneath the veneer of calm, he was almost as uneasy as I was. I could tell by the tension in his forearms and the set of his jaw.

  Which was weird that I’d already figured out his silent tells. I’d barely known Edward a week, yet I somehow felt like I could read him like a favorite book.

  “Could I practice with you?” The words exploded from my mouth, tumbling into the space between us.

  Well, there it was. He’d asked me to come right out and say it, and I wasn’t sure I could have been any more direct.

  Edward’s reaction was less animated than I’d expected. In fact, there was almost no reaction, as though he’d shut down right before I voiced my request.

  As I was about to snap my fingers in front of his face, his throat moved. “Are you suggesting what I think you are?” The instant he glanced at my face, he exhaled. “Stupid question. Of course you are.”

  “I know it’s a strange request.”

  “Strange? Not the term I’d use,” he interjected with a huff.

  “But here’s the thing. I’m here. You’re here. We’re similar in age, single, and . . . ” My mind hiccupped, causing a brief stall. “And we seem to . . . tolerate each other well enough.”

  Another huff spilled from Edward. “So kind of you to tolerate me?”

  My eyes lifted. “I didn’t mean it like that.”

  “What? You didn’t mean you somehow manage to endure my presence?” He dropped his half-eaten burger on the plate.

  I exhaled through my nose, tapping my foot. “I mean that if our circumstances were different and you were just some guy I met in school and we hit it off the way we have here, I could see us being something more.” When his eyes traveled my way, I hurried to finish my half thought. “But you’re not just some guy, and we’re not at school. I’m into Theo—at least what I think I know of him—and you’re going to marry some flawless heiress one day.”

  Whatever he’d been about to say vanished—forgotten or forbidden—his throat moving as he swallowed his unsaid words.

  I pushed, sensing his resolve cracking. “Come on. Please, Edward? I need help. Your help. I’m not the girl who freezes up like that. I know who I am and what I want.” My face pulled
up in a wince, the disaster of last night reeling through my head. “You should have seen me. I was a disaster and a hot mess rolled into one boring burrito.”

  One of Edward’s dark brows lifted. “This coming from the girl who dropped out of school and took a job most retirees apply for in hopes of figuring out what she wants in life?” The corner of his mouth twitched, the storm gone from his eyes.

  My mouth fell open in mock outrage. “Tone it down on the tough love there, Tony Robbins.”

  He shook his head, looking amused, as he retrieved his burger. I heaved an internal sigh, guessing the worst was behind us.

  “How is practicing kissing me going to help you next time you’re with him?” he asked before taking a bite.

  “Kissing you would be like kissing him.”

  A sharp sound of dissent followed. “Not if I’m doing anything even remotely right.”

  “What does that mean?”

  Edward looked at me, seeming surprised he had to explain himself.

  “It means I don’t kiss like Theo Hamilton.”

  His tone was all the insult his words were not.

  I angled myself in the chair so I was facing him straight on. “Is that your way of saying he’s a bad kisser?”

  He rubbed his mouth, trying to hide the smile stirring. “Not bad, but unrefined. Messy.”

  I made sure he didn’t miss the glare I was firing at him. “And what? You’re some kind of kissing connoisseur?”

  He popped the last bite of his burger into his mouth before shoving out of his chair. He winked at me before turning to leave. “You just might get a chance to find out.”

  My fingers rolled across the table. Was he messing with me? Was that a roundabout agreement? “Might?”

  Edward paused in the doorway. “Might. I have to think about it.”

  “What’s there to think about?” I asked lightheartedly.

  “Everything. And Charlotte?” His head tipped back over his shoulder just enough to ensure he had my attention. “Strip away the family I was born into and the role I’m expected to one day fill, and I am just some guy.”

  Chapter 8

  He called.

  Exactly two days after the night we’d kissed. Well, the night he kissed and I stood there like a lump.

  Theo wanted to tell me he was leaving to visit his family in the capital for his grandparents’ fiftieth anniversary and would be back in two weeks. He asked if he could see me again.

  My response was nothing short of enthusiastic. For some miracle of a reason, Theo Hamilton had not been totally put off by my bout of performance anxiety, and by everything holy, I was not going to give a repeat performance the next time we saw each other.

  I had a plan to ensure that, of course, but a key component of that agenda hadn’t been keen to give me his answer yet. It had been a whole five days since I’d dropped my proposal on him over cheeseburgers, and he hadn’t so much as mentioned it since. How much time did a guy need to decide if he would or would not help a desperate girl in her time of inexperience need?

  I was about to find out, even if I had to force an answer from him. It was just past dawn, and from the looks of the fog slithering along the frostbitten grass, I needed an extra coat. And hat. And gloves.

  As I was finishing layering on my outerwear, my phone rang. I almost let it go to voicemail when I saw who was calling, but I caved at the last minute.

  “Morning, Dad,” I answered, trying to sound extra cheery. Both of my parents were worried I was experiencing some bout of depression as a result of isolating myself as I had. No amount of convincing them otherwise had worked.

  “Morning, sunshine. Glad I caught you.” I heard my mom whispering in the background. “Just wanted to see if you’d made your decision about heading back to school at the end of fall quarter. I know you told your mom you were considering that as an option.”

  I more stomped into my boots than slid into them. If by listening silently and tossing in a few sounds of acknowledgement counted as considering going back to school in a couple of months, then I guess I had.

  “No, Dad. My position here goes through the end of May. If I return to school, it will be next fall.” I winced the moment the word left my mouth, bracing myself for the fallout.

  “If?” Dad echoed, more frantic whispering coming from Mom in the background. For promising to give me some space and back off on the questions about my future, they were having a tough time following through.

  “You caught me at a bad time. I was just about to do something important. Can I call you back later?” I tucked an extra set of gloves into the pocket of my second coat, praying my dad didn’t keep beating the “if” horse to death.

  A long sigh rattled through my phone. “Okay, sunshine. We love you.”

  His retreat took me by such surprise, I had an argument to his argument on the tip of my tongue.

  “Love you too,” I said instead. I was shocked again when I noticed he’d ended the call before I had to.

  As I stuffed my phone into my pocket, I wrestled with the guilt that lately always accompanied a talk with my parents. I didn’t want to disappoint them, but I didn’t want to disappoint myself either. Unfortunately, it seemed I couldn’t avoid both.

  It was a big decision to make at twenty years old—what did I want to spend the rest of my life doing?

  After wrapping a scarf around my neck and half of my face, I braved the elements with the goal of finding one prince whose morning walks were like clockwork.

  The cold snapped at me the second I stepped outside, biting through my layers of wool and fleece. Powering down the walkway leading toward the lake, I hoped my hurried pace would get the blood pumping to keep me warm.

  When I made it to the edge of the property, I took the trail that surrounded most of the lake. Providing Edward hadn’t changed it up, I figured our paths should intersect in the next five minutes or so. I was hoping to find him in a good mood, as he generally was at the end of one of his long walks, and partially brain-frozen enough to coerce him into agreeing to my proposition.

  The fog was thicker by the edge of the lake, the only sounds that of the water gently lapping at the shore and the distant sound of geese as they made their journey to warmer weather.

  When I’d almost convinced myself I’d missed him, a dark figure cut through the thick haze up ahead. I knew it was him from the walk—long steps, strong shoulders, charging ahead as though he were battling an invisible enemy. The giant dark figures hovering ten paces back gave him away too.

  “Edward!” I called when I realized he was too distracted by his thoughts to realize there was someone in his path.

  He didn’t say anything as he approached, though his eyes suggested he was not surprised to find me there. His cheeks were flushed, his hair tousled, his eyes restless.

  With the fog floating around him, a day’s worth of stubble framing his face, my lungs felt a strain. The more time I spent around him, the more attractive Edward became. It was as though I noticed something new each time I saw him, a steady tide of appeal ebbing from him.

  Words, along with thoughts, jumbled as he waited.

  “What are you doing out here?” he asked when I remained mute.

  Looking away, I found my voice again. “Looking for you.”

  He shifted his weight. “You found me.”

  There wasn’t a questioning note in his response, nor a patronizing one. Just . . . acknowledgement. Acceptance.

  As I curled my arms around myself in another effort to stay warm, I noticed what he was wearing. Or more, what he was not wearing.

  “What are you doing out here with nothing more than a suit jacket on?” I cried. “It’s cold.”

  “I like the cold.”

  My eyes widened. “Why do you like the cold?”

  Edward was trying not to grin at my layers of outerwear, but he was losing the fight. “Because it reminds me of summer and warmth,” he started, looking away. “And it helps me to think.”


  So much for my frozen brain hypothesis. “You must have a lot to think about, because you walk a lot.”

  He sniffed, staring at the dark lake. “Thanks to you, I’ve had a lot more to think about lately.”

  My forehead creased. Edward had been thinking about me?

  “That absurd idea you presented me with,” he continued when he noticed my confused look.

  I waited for him to elaborate as I rubbed my hands together, but he remained quiet. “Based upon your word choice of absurd, am I to take that as you checking the no box?”

  Edward’s breath fogged the air around his face, checking to make sure his guards were staying back. “No.”

  My hands stopped rubbing together. “Would you mind elaborating on that no?” I angled myself in front of him. “Is that a no as in you will or a no as in you won’t?”

  “You’re speaking gibberish. Again.”

  I didn’t blink. “And you’re evading the topic. Again.”

  The corner of his mouth quirked. “I will,” he said, pale eyes turning from the lake to me.

  The look in them made me fall back a step; distance, for some reason, seemed a good idea. I swallowed. “You will?”

  “Unless you’ve come to your senses and changed your mind.”

  My head shook so hard, my hat almost flew off. “No.”

  Edward fought a smile. “I’m going to need you to clarify that no.”

  “I have not changed my mind,” I said before he’d finished his sentence.

  He nodded once. “Good.” Edward started down the trail again, but didn’t veer off toward Valmont. He really must have a lot to think about this morning. “But, Charlotte?” He paused long enough to look back at me still hovering in the middle of the trail, still processing what he’d agreed to. “I’m not Theo Hamilton.”

  He didn’t add anything else before disappearing into the fog.

  “I know,” I whispered, trying to ignore the tiny flutter I felt when I imagined kissing Edward Royston.

  Chapter 9

  The indoor pool at Valmont was every bit as regal as the rest of the estate. I usually ended my days there, swimming laps until my fingertips had become prunes and my eyes burned from the chlorine. I’d always loved swimming. My parents had taught me at a young age, since I spent my first decade of life so close to a large body of water, but none of the pools I’d swam in compared to this one.