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“Well, I wouldn’t say that.” He smirks. “But I did realize at a fairly young age how truly shallow, power hungry, or money hungry most of the people in my world are. Not my immediate family,” he amends, “but the people that surround us like wolves in sheep’s clothing. Everyone has an agenda, and it’s just another reason I’m grateful for Faraday who helped me learn how to read people’s intentions.”

I truly can’t imagine what it would be like for a young Beau to learn, far quicker than he should, that people would try to use him for his name, his family, his title. How jarring that must’ve been, and how that shaped his relationships with people around him.

Suddenly the flings and lack of long-term relationships that are so well documented by the tabloids make sense.

I’m at a loss of what to say, so I settle for, “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be. I have everything I could ever want. More than most people could ever dream.”

But what about everything you need?

What of parental love, trust, security, connection? Is that the price he’s had to pay to live comfortably and fulfill his duties?

I’m not sure if that is a fair trade.

“If I was smarter, and things were different,” he muses, “maybe I would’ve moved to the states and became an astronaut. Seen the world like only a sparing few ever have.” The way he says it, with such a childlike wonder so at odds with the usual undercurrent of arrogance that resides in his voice, tugs at something deep in my stomach. I almost flinch at the warm sensation spreading inside of me.

“You’re smart,” I say, trying to distract myself. “Maybe not fly around the moon smart, but smart enough.”

He throws his head back and bellows out a laugh that makes me wonder if any of the ones I’ve seen him give in interviews, at balls, anywhere else, have ever been genuine. His shoulders shake with the movement and he runs a hand through his hair. “So the Princess can make a joke. I was starting to wonder if you were too set on being a proper lady.”

“I think that went out the window the moment you got me to climb up on a roof.”

“I did think that was fairly easy,” he teases.

This whole night has felt easy, even as we’ve been talking about hard things. It feels effortless and even as silence descends between us again, it’s comfortable. It feels… right.

“What are you thinking about?” he asks.

The sounds of critters and the soft breeze fade far into the distance, until only my racing heartbeat thrums in my ears.

I turn my head toward him, which brings us almost nose to nose. When did we get so close? Was I just chasing his body heat, or did I want to get closer? “I’m thinking that I might’ve misjudged you.” I glance from his eyes, to his nose, trailing down to his lips. My breathing grows unsteady as I look at them. Full, with a small dent on the top one that I suddenly want to explore with mine. “I’m thinking that I spent way too long judging the surface level of who I thought you were, and now…” I lick my lips, wishing I had another taste of the delicious wine. “Now I’m not so sure what to make of you.”

Beau leans in, our noses now brushing. He lays his hand over mine. “I’m not sure what to make of you, either.”

I know it’s happening the moment before it does. I have the chance to stop it, to pull away. But I don’t. In a fact that I’ll try to convince myself of otherwise tomorrow, I’m the one to close that final bit of distance and press my lips to his. His body goes lax at the contact, and he cups my face with his free hand.

His lips are soft against mine, and when he parts them and teases the seam of mine with his tongue, I get another taste of the wine. I whimper as heat floods through my entire body. My breasts feel heavy and chafe against the confines of my bra.

I deepen the kiss and tentatively brush his tongue with mine. He groans in satisfaction, tightening his grip. Every nerve is attuned to him, and it’s unlike anything I’ve felt.

I’ve never kissed anyone before. I was too scared of what my future looked like and if any of them would crawl out of the woodwork to boast salacious lies once I married Lock.

Lock.

Oh my god.

I jerk back, a deep, unsettling chill washing over me. I touch my lips and my fingers tremble. “I—” I stare at Beau, who looks equally startled.

I can’t believe I just did that.

His eyes are glazed but alert. He reaches for me but I scamper back. No.

That can’t have just happened.

He sits back, looking wounded, and the sight pierces something inside of me.

But I can’t. Can’t stay here another moment.