Tilly Ann
"Did you just wish me dead?"
His voice startled me. I didn't know he was that close.
"Look at that" I smiled. "Something you've gotten correctly"
"Careful, Princess" He beamed. "Don't go breaking your own heart now"
"My heart?" I laughed, the sound sharp and brittle. "Like I would ever fall for a egocentric whore like you"
He stopped a few feet away. Close enough that I could see the sweat on his temples, the rise and fall of his chest, the flecks of gold in his dark eyes. Close enough that the rest of the crowd seemed to fade, just for a moment.
I waited for him to say something Chase-like—pompous and annoying
"You could have competed, you know," he said. Surprising me by changing the conversation "I'm told you're quite good."
"I am good. I'm the best rider in this kingdom. Ask anyone." A pause " Anyone except Kessington. He's delusional"
"And yet here you are. Simply watching while I break every one of your records"
"Here I am. Unimpressed."
His smile widened. "You're a terrible liar, Tilly Ann."
I felt something in my chest, my throat, the spaces between my ribs. Hearing standing Chase call me Tilly Ann. Not Winchester. Not little Princess. But Tilly Ann.
He said it like he was finally, genuinely, done with me.
"You are..." I said, and my voice was steadier than I felt. "You're exactly what I thought you were, Chase Dubois. A rake. A charmer. A man who'll smile at anyone who gives him the time of day."
"And yet." He took a step closer. I didn't move. "You're the only one i give a medium fuck about."
The words hit like a punch. I opened my mouth—to argue, to deny, to tell him exactly where he could put his charm—but nothing came out.
He was watching me.
"You did well," I managed. Taking a play from his handbook and changing the subject. "The course. It was... impressive."
"High praise from the best rider in the kingdom."
"Don't let it go to your head."
"Too late." He grinned, and for a moment he looked almost boyish. Almost genuine. "I'm already insufferable. Your words, not mine."
"My words were correct."
"They usually are."
We stood there, the noise of the crowd washing around us, the sun hot on our shoulders, the space between us charged with something I couldn't name.
I wanted to hit him. I wanted to kiss him. I wanted to drag him behind the nearest tent and demand to know why he'd ignored me all day, why he'd smiled at every girl in the kingdom, why he'd looked at me like I was nothing when I'd been thinking about him for three days straight.
Instead, I said, "You should go. Your admirers are waiting. This whore who's only good for being pinned against a fucking door and finger fucked when no one's around wouldn't want to keep you from them. Go fawn over them publicly. Don't let me keep you"
He glanced over his shoulder. The blonde was hovering at the edge of the competitor's area, the brunette and the redhead close behind. He looked back at me, something flickering in his expression.
"Let them wait."
"Chase—"
"I'm Grey—" His voice faded away "I watched you today. Every race. Every heat. Every time I thought no one was looking. And you can repeat my fucking words to me, which by the way, I never meant like that. After all, I'm the one who likes pinning you behind the fucking door. Who goes fucking wild with desire! I'm the one who loves finger fucking you and sucking you there"
He stepped closer, and I stepped back, and my spine hit the fence behind me. He braced his hands on either side of my head, his body a wall of heat. "Do you want to know what I saw watching you today, Winchester?"
My heart was going to pound out of my chest. "No."
"A princess who was jealous."
"I wasn't—"
"Jealous," he repeated, savoring the word, "that anyone else had my attention. Jealous that I smiled at other girls. Jealous that I didn't come to her first."
"I wasn't jealous. I was disgusted."
"Liar."
"Bastard."
His mouth curved. "Still lying."
I wanted to shove him. I wanted to scream. I wanted to tell him he was wrong, that I didn't care, that he could smile at every woman in the kingdom and it wouldn't matter because I hated him, I hated him, I hated him.
But I'd been thinking about him for three days. Three days of his mouth and his hands and the way he'd said I can't stay away from you. Three days of hating myself for wanting him back.
"You're a terrible person," I whispered.
"I know."
"You're going to break my heart."
Something in his face shifted. The smile faded. His eyes went dark and serious, and for a moment—just a moment—he looked almost human.
"I know" he said quietly. "But if it is any consolation, I will break mine right back."
I didn't have an answer for that.
He pushed off the fence, leaving me breathless and furious and something else I refused to name. He walked backward a few steps, that wicked smile returning, his eyes never leaving mine.
"Go to hell, you confusing prick!."
"I thought we've established that, sweetheart. I'm already there." He turned, waving to the crowd like the showman he was, and disappeared into the swarm of admirers waiting for him.
I stayed against the fence, my heart pounding, my face hot, my hands shaking.
"You're in trouble," Jovina said from somewhere behind me
I watched him go. The blonde was already reaching for his arm. The brunette was laughing at something he said. He didn't look back.
"I know," I whispered.