Page 94 of King of the Crease

HANK

The past twenty-four hours have given me such whiplash, I should see a chiropractor.

My boyfriend? Not an accountant from Baltimore, but a prince from Ardenia.

My sexuality? Well, the entire freaking world has video proof that I’m into dudes now.

My privacy? Rapidly disappearing. I tried going to Sandwiches on Main for lunch but kept getting stared at. And not in a normal “what’s that smell?” kind of way. Some people were even filming me. I had to leave before I could take a bite. Now I get why famous people are so skinny.

My relationship? I have no idea. I thought a toll road was our only problem. Dating a prince seems as impossible as eating a sandwich in peace anymore.

Nick’s face was ashen when I dropped him off at Millie’s this morning. Millie, by the way, is not his cousin. I should’ve realized that considering she’s Asian, but I didn’t want to ask questions and come off as racist.

I told him to call me. I’d be around. That was several hours ago. Since then, not a peep.

We’d get through this…I think? Even though the details of his life were made up, the feelings between us were real. They had to be.

I spend my Saturday holed up in my house watching Christmas movies. Brody’s at school for the final rehearsals. I’m terrified the press is going to start stalking him, too.

While watching White Christmas, I get a hankering to text Nick about the glimpse of Bing Crosby in his tighty-whities, but I stop myself. He’s probably dealing with so much fallout from the video. He doesn’t want to hear my dumb ramblings. I wish there’s something I could do to help him.

A little before noon, I get a call from Griffin.

“Hey, how are you holding up?” he asks.

“It’s been a day. That’s for sure.”

“I’m sorry, man. If I hadn’t made us go to that bar crawl, then there wouldn’t be any video.”

“How could you have known that we’d accidentally blow his cover as a crown prince?” And if Nick and I hadn’t gone, then we wouldn’t have had that amazing night. Dancing, laughing, winning a trophy, calling each other boyfriends, making love in my bed. Good memories are worth the hangover.

“I didn’t mean to ruin a good thing you guys had going. I really liked seeing you together,” Griffin says.

“Me too.” At least I get to keep the trophy, currently residing on my fireplace mantel. I’ll hold onto it like Old Rose did with the necklace in Titanic. “I don’t think I can play tomorrow, Griffdog. It’s going to create a scene. People were trying to record me eating a sandwich today. Tomorrow could be worse.”

“We can handle it,” he says. “Whatever it is, we got your back.”

I smile, grateful for friends that can always cheer me up, even if temporarily.

“Do you want to come over? I’m just hanging with the girls.”

“I don’t feel like leaving my couch.” I lean back into my mountain of pillows I’ve arranged under me.

“I get that,” he says with a deep laugh. “Well, relax, watch some of those dumb Christmas movies you love, and definitely stay off the internet.”

I sit up slightly. “Why? What are people saying?”

“Nothing,” he stammers. “Just dumb shit people post on the internet.”

“About me?”

“It’s stupid.”

“Now you have to tell me.” The more he dodges, the more curious I get. My experience with people talking smack about me is limited to the ice and the locker room.

“They’re—and this is so dumb—they’re calling you guys ‘the prince and the plumber.’ I told you. It’s stupid.”

I muster a polite laugh, only for the clever alliteration. “Thanks for the warning, Griffdog. I’m going to go back to watching my movie.”