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Chapter twenty-nine
Eric
Dirty. Filthy. Fucking.
That’s how I tried to frame this thing between me and my little princess, but now, here, in her foyer kissing her, I admit that it was never that. She slid right under my skin and stayed there from the moment I first laid eyes on her. I don’t want to let her go, but she, apparently, doesn’t have the same sentiments.
She shoves against my chest, tearing her mouth from mine. “No. No. My version of together isn’t hatred and obsession. It’s not me being a princess to you.”
“Sweetheart, I tattooedPrincesson my body. I tattooedyouon my body.”
“You also tattooed a jaguar on your shoulder in spite of your father.”
“That jaguar isn’t about revenge. It’s about the world being bigger than the Kingston name. It’s about not putting limits on myself. Everything inked on my body is a piece of me, Harper. You became that. You affected me.”
“You walked away.”
“Be glad I did. I might have wanted you then, Harper, but I wasn’t the same man I am now. It wasn’t our time.Nowis our time.”
“And yet you came at me like I’m fucking your brother.”
“I had no right to tell you that you couldn’t, but had you fucked us both—”
“Oh God,” she says, trying to pull away, but my leg slides against her knee, my hand going to the wall by her head.
“What just happened?” I demand.
“You implied that I’m some sort of whore who wants to do two brothers.”
“I did no such thing. I told you how I feel.”
“I slept with you. You affected me. You have always affected me, Eric, even when I wanted you out of my head.”
“What doesthatmean?”
“It doesn’t matter,” she says, her eyes blazing with anger. “Let me off the wall.”
“Not until you tell me what that means.”
“You made me feel dirty, and like a weapon.”
“I need a weapon. Iama weapon. That’s why you brought me here.”
“That’s not how I see it. I don’t like being put in the middle of Kingston drama. It’s consumed my entire life.”
“I’m not a Kingston if that’s what you’re implying.”
“Yes, you are. Youarea Kingston,” she says. “You are your father’s son just as much as I am my father’s daughter.”
“I was born a Mitchell and I will die a Mitchell.”
“What are we doing right now, Eric?”
“You tell me. You’re the one who pulled me into this and now you’re telling me to let go.”
Her expression softens. “I don’t want you to let go.”
“That’s what you said. Let go. Your words, not mine.”
