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“Well, what do you think? Which one will I be?”
He looks me up and down and his eyes grow hooded. He bites his lip, and gets out of the bike’s seat. He takes a step closer to me. Too close. He leans down, so that we are at the same eye level. Our chests nearly touch. He inhales sharply and my skin grows too hot and too tight, and suddenly it’s hard to breathe.
“Since you ask what I think,” he says, his breath shaky, “here it is. I think that you care too much what other people think. That you have been trained to care, and that you have been caring too much, and that it has sucked the life out of you. That you are one of the most powerful people on the planet right now, but that you can’t actually use any of that power unless you start being yourself. You are an amazing person, Olivia. Brave and beautiful and funny and so freaking strong. You. That’s you.”
“I don’t…”
I look down, but he doesn’t back away. He doesn’t touch me either.
He’s telling me the same thing Bianca told me, more or less. Except that he’s added the solution: this is how I get to use my power. By being myself.
I would laugh, it’s so ridiculous. He has no idea what it means to be a royal. There is absolutely no room for ‘being yourself’.
“Olivia,” he says again, and I realize why he doesn’t usually say my name. Because when he says it, it comes out with so much intensity.
His brilliant eyes are fixed on my face, shining with emotion.
“You don’t know how powerful you are,” he says. “I have been dead meat since the first day I met you. I mean that. Here in Vermont, I think that you are a different person from the Crown Princess who is only concerned about disappointing her father. Especially since the scandal broke out. You have been you. You have been concerned about finding the truth and about doing and being something worthwhile. You have been so brave, every single step of the way. And I… I fell in—I metthatperson. That is the Olivia I met.”
My body goes stone-cold. He inhales sharply, closes his eyes. Sways a little bit.
Did he just almost say the l-word? No, no, that’s not possible. He can’t have said what I think he said. It’s crazy.
“I am literally being hunted for my life.” I am so dazed I barely know what I’m saying. “How is that powerful?”
“Right now, you are the most powerful person on this street,” he whispers, his fingers itching towards mine. He grabs my thumb and wraps his hand around my palm softly. “In the universe. You hold all the power, Olivia. You are about to bring me to my knees.”
“Marco…” I murmur and he gasps.
“You know what? I need you in my arms. This…” he gestures between us, to our bodies that are nearly touching but not quite, to our loosely joined hands. “This is not nearly close enough. I need to take you dancing. Now. I can’t wait a second longer.”
I’m still in a trance as he climbs back on the bike, and I let him take me to a club. My head is still woozy from the ‘I fell in—’ he just dropped on me.
I don’t realize when we walk into the club.
Suddenly, the quiet darkness around me is replaced with strobing lights and loud music, and I’m inside, we’re in the club, and every other thought is wrenched from my mind, as Marco pulls me against his body, hiding me from the writhing mass of people who are drinking and dancing and yelling at each other all around us.
Our route must be inching closer to the university, I guess, because most of these people in here are students. I recognize a few of them, but it’s too dark in here and my hair is too big and different for anyone to recognize me. People press on us from all sides, but I don’t even look. Only we two exist in this tightly-packed room full of alcohol and music.
Marco reaches the middle of the dance floor, and it’s so crowded, I can barely take a step away from him. Not that I want to. His arms go lax around me, to give me the option to put space between us, but here is the thing: I don’t want space.
Instead, I wrap my arms around his waist, just like I do when we are on the bike, and I swear, he lets out such a deep sigh of relief he sags and sort of falls against me. He grabs on to me at the last moment, before his legs fold, and we start swaying with the music.
So, now I get it.
Why he wanted to come here.
Why standing close to me wasn’t enough.
Why kissing wasn’t enough.
I press my body against him, all of him, and feel his warmth seep into mine, until I’m burning inside and outside and all over. He feels the same, because he gasps and writhes against my hips, his lips hanging open, his eyes shut.
His hands slide down to my hips and he pulls me even closer (I didn’t think it was possible) as I lose myself in the music and the movement of his body against mine.
“Let’s get a room,” he whispers in my ear after what feels like an hour or so.
“And continue,” I say and he chuckles, leaning down to bite my lip lightly.
