Page 63
Story: A Fierce Princess
“Nope. I’m too comfy,” I say. We all continue chatting as I lie there. Eventually, Auggie comes and lies down next to me.
“You’re right, this is nice,” he says as he rests his head on my belly.
“You children are gonna be the death of me,” Tessa says, shaking her head in disapproval. “I’m out of here unless you all need something else.”
“No, no. We’re good, Tessa,” Chris says to her.
I lie on the floor and stare at the pattern in the ceiling of the kitchen. “I vote that we stay here, permanently,” I announce.
“I concur,” Logan says.
“Agreed,” Chris says.
“Auggie?” I ask. I look down to see my brother is snoozing on me.
“Huh?” he says with his eyes still closed.
“Never mind, motion passes. Go to bed,” I say to him.
“I’m heading up to sleep this off,” Auggie says. I roll my eyes.
“Good idea,” I say as I help push him up. He waves to us and stumbles out of the kitchen. Tessa has dimmed the lights so just the undercabinet ones are on. It’s warm and cozy in the kitchen, the heat from the pizza oven is still giving off warm air and a most delicious smell.
“I should go too,” Chris says.
He stands and holds out a hand to pull me up. I accept, and once he has me steady on my feet, he kisses my cheek.
“Night,” he says.
“Goodnight,” Logan and I answer in unison.
I plop back down on the stool next to Logan. The palace is quiet except for the hum of the giant refrigerator.
“Soooo?” I ask, turning to Logan. “The conversation with your dad didn’t go well, I take it?”
He shrugs and sighs. “It was fine. I…it’s just a lot to process,” he mumbles.
“I bet,” I say to him. “I feel bad that I thought he was trying to kill you.”
“He’s worried. He’s not mad about that. He’s concerned,” Logan says.
“I think we’re all concerned,” I say.
“He has a lot of regrets,” Logan confides.
“I’m sure,” I say as I look at him.
In the dim light of the kitchen, he looks almost boyish. I reach out and touch his cheek.
“I’m sorry, Logan,” I whisper.
“For what?” he asks, looking back at me.
“Everything,” I say softly.
He turns his chair and pushes my legs apart to make room for his. He leans forward until we are a mere few centimeters apart.
“Stop being sorry. Like I said before, you are brave, reckless, but brave, and I’m glad you found me,” he says, brushing a stray hair away from my cheek. He leans in slowly until our lips are but a hair apart.
Table of Contents
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- Page 63 (Reading here)
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