Page 68 of Bitter Prince

“Is there a problem here?” I asked, towering behind the group and feeling everyone’s eyes snap to me. Fucking bitches. They were older than Reina by a good three or four years. I couldn’t stand bullies, and these three had to be taught a lesson. “I certainly hope you’re not harassing my girlfriend. Otherwise, I’ll have to harass you and your family, and trust me”—I took a step closer and all three of the girls stumbled backward—“you won’t like it.”

Reina sidestepped them and came to my side. Her arm wrapped around my waist, and it was a good thing she was touching me, because for the first time in my life, I was actually considering beating a woman’s ass for bullying my girl.

One of them tried to look innocent, fluttering her eyelashes, but I met her smile with a cold, hard glare. I reveled in a sick sort of way when her smile slipped away and fear filled her eyes.

“We were just talking,” one of them said, shaking like a leaf.

“Well, don’t talk to my girlfriend anymore,” I instructed coldly. “In fact, don’t even look at her. If I hear you so much as glanced her way or spoke her name, Iwillcome after you. Understood?” Every cell in my brain burned with rage, and I fought the need to give them back what they gave. It was Reina’s touch that calmed me. Her arm, tight around my waist. “I didn’t fucking hear you.”

“Y-yes.”

“Good, now get lost.”

They scurried away like the fucking chickens they were. I could almost hear squawks as they ran out of there.

“Amon, are you okay?” Reina’s voice came through the fury buzzing in my ears. I nodded and her arm tightened around my waist. “Really?”

“Yes.” My darkness swirled all around us, dimming her shining glow. “Do they always harass you?”

She shook her head. “No, most of the time they stay away when my friends are around. They just got pissed off because our professor gave them a bad grade.”

“That’s not your fucking fault.”

She shrugged. “I know, but I did better than them, and they didn’t like that. Now calm down and smile. I can’t handle your growling.”

I let out a sardonic breath. “You’re something.”

“A good something, right?”

I smiled. “Yes, a good something, cinnamon girl.”

She beamed at me like I was her prince, her eyes shimmering like the Gulf of Trieste. I could drown in her gaze so easily if I wasn’t careful. “What are you doing here anyhow?”

I shook off the whispers of the past and the worries of the future, focusing instead on the present. “It’s time for our date.”

Her expression was equal parts intrigued and mystified as she watched me, adjusting her bag over her shoulder. “I haven’t heard from you in three days. You could have given me a heads-up.” She waved her hand over her body and my dick stirred to life. She wore a light pink summer dress with shoulder straps, baring her long, slim legs for the world to see. Her pink ballet flats were the same shade as her dress. The girl had a serious fetish with pink. “I’m not exactly dressed for a date.”

“You look good.” Her cheeks turned pink, matching her outfit, and I couldn’t hold back a smile. It was easy—too easy—to make her blush. “Are you up for a ride on my bike?” She stared at me in shock, not moving. “Reina?”

She gave her head a subtle shake. “Your smile…” I frowned at her odd remark. “You’re beautiful when you smile,” she breathed, and something about her honesty stabbed me right in the heart.

I handed her the pink helmet I picked up for her yesterday. “Here, put this on.”

Securing her bag’s straps over both her shoulders, she took the helmet from me, holding it awkwardly. Her eyes flitted my way, then back to it as she reluctantly lifted it to her head.

“I’ve never worn a helmet like this before,” she muttered as she put it on. “How many women have worn this thing exactly?”

I reached over and helped her adjust it, then secured the straps under her chin. “You’re the first one,” I said casually while my heart beat at an unfamiliar speed. It seemed to happen frequently when she was around.

She shaped her full lips into a silent “O” as she stared at me with those big blue eyes, saying nothing and everything at once.

Get your head screwed on right, my brain hissed.Or you’ll fall for her and ruin it all.

Too late,my heart taunted.

It was supposed to be easy. I was meant to use her as the final nail in her father’s coffin. Yet standing here, the world fading into the background, revenge didn’t seem as important. The past seemed irrelevant, but she… she was and would always be important.

“I like you, Amon,” she whispered, holding my gaze. “A lot.” My chest ached, but in a good way. My heart sang, but only for her. And I wasn’t even a singer, for Christ’s sake.