Free BLOCK: Social Media #3 by JA Huss Page B

prince, why don’t you want the marriage?"
    I take another gulp of margarita and finish it off. "Because," I say, picking up my menu. I’m not hungry anymore but I need something to do with my hands. "Because regardless of what you think, I realize there are no princes, Vaughn. And you’re right, it was unfair of me to expect you to be perfect." I stare at him. Hard. My eyes are narrowing, I just know it. Because it sucks to admit I’ve been foolish for all these years. Looking for a phantom man who will spoil any good relationship I ever have because my expectations are too high.
    He studies me for a moment and again, I find myself squirming under his scrutiny.
    Can he see through me? "Excuse me?" I stop our waitress as she passes by. "Can I get another margarita?"
    "That’s not why, Grace."
    Jesus. I need that drink. "Of course that’s why. I think I know my own reasons."
    He’s shaking his head as I defend myself. "You don’t want to marry because then you might have to actually be happy."
    "What? Seriously, Asher. You’re totally wrong. I was—I am—a very happy woman. I was socially complete before I met you, believe it or not. I realize I’ve been all over the place emotionally since the island. But that’s not me. I’m happy, and well-adjusted, and, and, and happy ."
    Fuck.
    "But that was the fantasy, right? The fantasy made you happy. This is reality and you’re lost in reality."
    "Why are we talking about me? The deal was that we talk about you."
    “What do you want to know? Ask me anything."
    But nothing seems safe. Everything feels like a trap that will throw me backwards into the past. That will unravel all the raveling I’ve done over the past ten years and leave me frayed and filled with holes.
    "I want to get married," he says. "And I don’t need her to be a princess, Grace. I just need her to love me for who I really am. And then I want a bunch of kids. And I want them to have the perfect childhood filled with jumping in puddles, and playing in mud, and bad grades because their personalities require them to rebel and be themselves. I want school plays and coaching football, and standing out in the rain to watch a track meet. I want to bring my wife breakfast in bed for Mother’s Day and I want to receive handmade gifts of painted macaroni from my three-year-old."
    I just stare at him.
    "I want normal. I lived the fantasy and it’s not as perfect as it seems."
    I have no idea what to say, but luckily, the waitress brings my drink. So I take a really long sip and then set it down on the table and stare at it.
    "What do you think of all that, Grace?"
    "I think…" I look up at him. My eyes are watery from the alcohol or maybe from the serious conversation that makes me think of my own childhood. "I think I’d like to give the fantasy a try first."
    "Take it for a test drive?"
    "Yes. Just to see what it’s like."
    "You need to be able to compare?"
    I nod.
    "Because you’ve lived normal and it’s not as perfect as it seems?"
    "Yes."
    "Come upstairs with me, Grace. And let me give you a free sample."
    I huff out a laugh. "Does it come with spankings?" I try and joke to break the seriousness of his offer.
    "No," he says, shaking his head slowly. "No, the fantasy doesn’t come with spankings. It comes with gentle, tender lovemaking. And flowers and chocolate-covered strawberries. Soft sheets, and softer music. No dirty talking or blindfolds or sexy lingerie."
    "Sounds pretty boring."
    "Mmmm. It is. Come upstairs and let me show you how boring."
    And then he stands up and comes around to pull my chair out. I stand up and he hooks my arm in his. "Grand Lakeview Suite," he tells the waitress as we walk out. "Bill it to the room."

Chapter Ten

    "I CAN be romantic," I tell Grace as I open the door to my suite and flatten my hand on the small of her back. "But everyone’s definition of romance is different." I close the door and watch her as she moves forward through the foyer and into the large