I can't borrow him.
He's not a sweater or a skirt.
He's not even her favorite dress the lucky one she wears on first dates. The one she probably wore on her first date with him.
In my defense, I didn't know who he was. To me, he was a cool, calm, confident stranger. He was perfection for the entire hour and a half train ride while the concrete jungle turned into a rolling green landscape.
To an outsider, we probably appeared more friends than hopeful lovers. But my blush came quickly, and his dimples indented with every smile. We definitely shared a spark of what could be.
Too bad I didn't know who he was before I fell for him, because he can't be mine.
He's not a sweater or a skirt.
He's not even her favorite dress the lucky one she wears on first dates. The one she probably wore on her first date with him.
In my defense, I didn't know who he was. To me, he was a cool, calm, confident stranger. He was perfection for the entire hour and a half train ride while the concrete jungle turned into a rolling green landscape.
To an outsider, we probably appeared more friends than hopeful lovers. But my blush came quickly, and his dimples indented with every smile. We definitely shared a spark of what could be.
Too bad I didn't know who he was before I fell for him, because he can't be mine.
Buch (kartoniert)
He's not your average Joe from the corner bar.
He's the heir to the crown.
I should know, I've followed him for years.
Not in a stalkerish way. Magazines and online gossip blogs are fair game when you're royalty.
But I do know every detail about him, down to the brand of boxer briefs he wears.
All my studying of the man who plays a starring role in my dreams pays off when I win a dinner with him. As if that wasn't enough, he barters a deal with me that has him moving into my spare guest room.
I forgot that fairy tales don't exist though because just as I'm about to get everything I want, including the prince, I find out there's someone in Prince Adrian Marx's life I don't know-his fiancée.
He's the heir to the crown.
I should know, I've followed him for years.
Not in a stalkerish way. Magazines and online gossip blogs are fair game when you're royalty.
But I do know every detail about him, down to the brand of boxer briefs he wears.
All my studying of the man who plays a starring role in my dreams pays off when I win a dinner with him. As if that wasn't enough, he barters a deal with me that has him moving into my spare guest room.
I forgot that fairy tales don't exist though because just as I'm about to get everything I want, including the prince, I find out there's someone in Prince Adrian Marx's life I don't know-his fiancée.