Chapter 17 

I have time to spare-Gabriel finally crashed about ten minutes ago, looking like death warmed over but stubborn as hell about admitting he needed sleep. So when Jake’s about to leave, I grab his arm. 

“Wait. Coffee? Now? Gabriel’s unconscious and I’m going stir-crazy.” 

Jake grins. “Thought you’d never ask.” 

We stroll down the street, Jake nursing his usual disgustingly black coffee while I indulge in my own weakness-coffee with enough milk and sugar to make a diabetic weep. The silence stretches comfortably between us until Jake decides to blow up my entire world. 

“You know, I have this habit of running background checks on people I let into my life.” 

I’m not stupid. My eyes narrow immediately. “How long have you known?” 

Jake shrugs, sipping his coffee like he didn’t just drop a conversational bomb. “Since the beginning.” 

I stop walking, turning to face him fully. My heart races for a beat, but Jake just stands there, still my friend, smiling like always. 

No weird formality, no sudden change in his posture. 

Just Jake being Jake. 

“You’ve treated me like a normal person this whole time,” I observe, cautious. Because this could go sideways fast. People get weird when they find out about the whole prince thing. 

Jake chuckles. “Would you prefer I called you Your Highness every morning? Didn’t think so.’ 

I grimace, shoulders sagging. “God, please don’t.” 

“Relax.” Jake claps me on the shoulder, his grin softening. “I cared more about the kind of person you are than your shiny titles. I wanted to know if you were secretly some high school bully or had bodies buried in your backyard—but turns out, private tutors and isolation don’t leave much time for that.” 

I exhale, feeling the weight lift off my chest. “You snooped more than you should have.” 

“Guilty,” Jake admits, completely unapologetic. “But it was time you knew. Someone in your life sees both sides-Leo the prince and Leo the disaster college student—and still thinks you’re worth hanging around.” 

For the first time in weeks, my smile is genuine. Not the practiced prince smile or the charming party smile, but the real thing. 

“Besides,” Jake continues, “your actual personality is way more interesting than your title. Princes are boring. Bisexual princes with attachment issues and a talent for bad decisions? That’s compelling.” 

“Thanks for the psychological profile,” I say dryly, but I’m still smiling. 

Impulsively, I pull Jake into a hug. He hugs me back without hesitation, and something tight in my chest finally loosens. Having someone who knows everything and still chooses to be here feels like a fucking miracle. 

“Just promise me you won’t start curtseying,” I say when we pull apart. 

“Deal. But I’m definitely using this information for blackmail later.” 

“I’d expect nothing less.” 

After our walk, I return to Gabriel’s apartment expecting him to still be passed out. But the bed is empty. The kitchen too. For a second, panic shoots through me-what if he collapsed somewhere? 

What if his fever spiked? 

I bolt to the bathroom and fling the door wide open without thinking. 

Gabriel stands there, fresh from the shower, completely naked except for the towel in his hand. Not draped around his waist. 

In his hand. 

I freeze, eyes darting across every inch of his toned, perfect body, openly staring. Water droplets cling to his skin, his hair is slicked back, and Jesus Christ, he’s built like some kind of Greek 

statue. 

My brain short-circuits completely. 

Gabriel’s body is ridiculous. Broad shoulders, defined chest, abs that look like they were carved by someone who really understood their craft. And lower- 

My brain finally reboots, and I slam the door shut, pressing my back to it, wide-eyed and breathless. 

Two minutes of silence pass before Gabriel’s voice floats through the door, amused. “Can I 

come out?” 

I 

groan, sliding down the door slightly. “Can you maybe give me a second to process what just happened?” 

“No time,” Gabriel replies, amusement lacing his words. 

The door opens, and Gabriel steps out-only in his underwear. 

Black boxer briefs that leave absolutely nothing to the imagination. My eyes involuntarily drag over him again before I snap my gaze away, cheeks burning. 

Gabriel laughs-really laughs. Deep, unrestrained, completely genuine. It’s the first time I’ve ever heard him laugh like that, and the sound does something dangerous to my already compromised nervous system. 

“You’re enjoying this,” I accuse, still not looking at him directly. 

“Immensely,” Gabriel admits, stepping closer. “Your face is priceless.” 

“This is sexual harassment,” I mutter, but there’s no real complaint in it. 

“Is it?” Gabriel’s voice drops to something lower, more dangerous. “Because you seemed to be enjoying the view.” 

He steps in close, voice low by my car. “I hope I get to see you naked sometime soon too.” 

My stomach flips, blood rushing south with alarming speed. All coherent thoughts vanish. The proximity, the heat radiating off his skin, the way his voice sounds when it’s rough with want— it’s too much. 

“You’re sick,” I manage weakly. “You should be in bed.” 

“I’m feeling much better,” Gabriel murmurs, his breath warm against my ear. “Amazing what a good shower can do.” 

I turn to look at him, which is a mistake. He’s close enough that I can see the flecks of gold in his dark eyes, close enough to count his eyelashes. 

Close enough to do something incredibly stupid. 

“This is a bad idea,” I whisper, but I’m not moving away. 

“The best ones usually are,” Gabriel replies, his gaze dropping to my lips. 

2 

The space between us feels electric, charged with possibility and danger. I can smell his soap, feel the heat of his skin, see the way his pulse jumps at the base of his throat. 

“Gabe-” 

“Say my name again,” he says quietly, and there’s something raw in his voice that makes my breath catch. 

“Gabe,” I repeat, softer this time. 

He closes the distance between us, his hand coming up to cup my face. “Leo,” he whispers back, and my name sounds different in his mouth. Intimate. Precious. 

And then he’s kissing me, slow and deliberate, tasting like mint and promises. This isn’t the desperate kiss from last night-this is something else entirely. Something that feels like a beginning rather than an ending. 

When we break apart, I’m breathing hard, my heart hammering against my ribs. Gabriel’s eyes are dark with want, his lips slightly swollen from our kiss. 

“Still think this is a bad idea?” he asks, his thumb tracing my bottom lip. 

I lean into his touch, all my defenses crumbling. “The absolute worst.” 

“Good,” Gabriel says, his smile sharp and dangerous. “I’d hate for this to be easy.”