Cupcake

“You okay, Princess?” Rhys said.

I cleared my throat. “Yeah, I’m fine.”

“You suddenly got this faraway look in your eyes.”

“Hmm,” I said, “sorry, I was distracted. We should probably run the dance a couple more times, since we didn’t finish.”

Rhys nodded. “Whatever you say.”

Just as we were about to start again, the front door opened. A middle-aged couple walked in, carrying bags in their arms, followed by a boy who had to be Rhys’s younger brother. They were like mirror images of each other—though his brother was shorter and looked all of twelve years old.

“So, Rhys gets the house to himself,” the boy said, “and I’m forced to go to the mall with you two instead of staying home and playing Xbox? How is this fair?”

Rhys shook his head. “I’m older than you.”

“Yeah, and more hormonal.”

“Zachary David Castle!” the woman said. “You apologize to your brother and his guest right now.”

“Why? It’s true.”

The woman didn’t back down, and he rolled his eyes.

“Sorry,” Zach said, then looked at me. “I guess you’re the girl who has to dance with him?”

“I am,” I said.

The kid shook his head. “Again, I’m sorry. He’s been practicing for hours on end, but he still sucks.”

“Hey,” Rhys argued, “you said I got better.”

“No, I said your level of suckage got better,” Zach corrected, giving a shrug. “But could you really have gotten any worse?”

My dance partner’s eyes lit on his brother, pinning him to the spot and promising retribution.

“I’m going to get you for that,” Rhys said.

“Yeah, okay.”

Before I could blink, Rhys had vaulted over the couch and pulled his brother into a headlock. The kid was wily, though. He slipped out of the hold, but Rhys quickly caught him again. It was obvious they’d done this a thousand times before.

“You’ll have to disregard this little display of brotherly love,” Rhys’s dad said, coming over to me. “I’m Glenn Castle, Rhys and Zach’s dad. And you are?”

“Ariel,” I said. “Pleasure to meet you, Mr. Castle.”

A groan sounded out, and I saw that Zach and Rhys were now wrestling on the floor.

“Does this happen often?” I asked.

“Only every day and twice on weekends.” Mrs. Castle walked over to me, holding out a dainty hand. “I’m Jennifer, the mom—though I maintain they get this unruliness from their father.”

A loud crash came from behind. But she ignored it, and so did I.

“It’s nice to meet you,” I said.

“In all seriousness, I hope this isn’t bothering you, Ariel.”

“Oh no.”

Mr. Castle leaned over and whisper-shouted, “She has to say that. Unlike our two hooligans, the girl obviously has manners.”

I laughed at that. “It’s fine, seriously,” I said. “My mom and I hate it when the house is too quiet. Plus, as an only child, I always wanted a brother or sister. So this is nice.”

Mr. Castle smiled then took his and his wife’s bags into another room. The boys’ fight seemed to be winding down. Mrs. Castle, though, I noticed was looking at me.

“Rhys was right about you,” she said.

“What do you mean?” I asked.

“You’re just as pretty as he said you’d be.”

My cheeks went up in flames. She must’ve gotten me confused with someone else, I thought. Before I could correct her—or question her relentlessly—Rhys joined us.

“Mom,” he said, “I hope you haven’t been over here embarrassing me.”

“Of course not.” She lightly hit his arm. “I was just getting to know her a little, that’s all. What’s embarrassing about that?”

Rhys narrowed his eyes. “I’m not sure. But sometimes you say things you shouldn’t.”

“Moi?” she said.

“Yes, you.”

His mother gave him a frown. “You know, sometimes I wonder where did my kind, loving Reese’s Pieces go?”

Zach snickered from the couch while Rhys released a sigh.

“Well, I need her back,” he said. “We weren’t finished practicing when you guys came home.”

“I bet you weren’t,” Zach mumbled.

Mrs. Castle turned to Rhys then. “I’ll let you go in a second, but first I want to check in, see how you’re doing. You went to your appointment, right?” she asked.

Rhys’s jaw tensed, but he nodded. “Yeah, of course.”

“Everything go okay?”

“Yep.”

“Do you think it helped?”

“It always does, Mom. Can we go now?”

Rhys shot me a glance, but I didn’t know what to do, where to look. This was clearly something personal; I wasn’t sure he’d want me hearing any of it. In fact, knowing him and how much he guarded his secret, this might provoke an emotional ice storm of epic proportions. And yet, I desperately wanted to know more. If his mom was aware of his appointments and was asking if they “helped,” I was probably wrong about the whole secret girlfriend/boyfriend idea.

Whatever the truth was, this sounded serious.

“Is the weekly appointment enough, or do you think you need more?” Mrs. Castle said. “We could always add to the schedule if—”

“Mom,” Rhys said. “It’s fine.”

She nodded. “Okay, if you say so, I believe you. You’d let me know if things weren’t fine.”

“I would.”

“Because you know I love you and your brother more than anything,” she said. “You only have to say the word and I’ll get you whatever you need. More appointments, a different doctor, anything.”

The second to last word made my heart clench. Why would Rhys need to see a doctor? I wondered. He looked super healthy to me, was in the prime of his life. Nothing could touch him. But, if doctors were involved…did that mean Rhys was sick? Oh gosh, I hoped not.

Rhys let out a sigh.

“Dr. Moorehouse is doing a great job, Mom. And yes, I’m feeling good,” he said. “Thanks for making it awkward. Can we go now?”

“Sure.” Mrs. Castle nodded and gave him a quick hug. “I love you.”

“Love you, too,” he said then turned to me. “You want to go to my room?”

I gulped. “Your room?”

“Yeah, we’ll get more work done there,” he said. “It’s smaller, but at least we’ll have some privacy.”

“Okay.” My voice sounded cool, but inside I was freaking out. “That sounds good.”

Mrs. Castle said it was good meeting me. Zach made some other snarky remark, but I couldn’t focus on it as Rhys led me to his room.

On the way, I made a real effort to put the conversation I’d just heard out of my mind. There was a lot to process, and it only left me with more questions—that I was sure Rhys would say were none of my business. And he’d be right. He didn’t say anything, which let me know he was content to pretend like none of the stuff with his mom and doctors actually happened, and I decided to do the same. He’d confide in me if and when he wanted to.

Rhys’s bedroom door was plain white. The inside of his space was clean if a bit sparse. The walls were painted a light gray, the carpet, cream like the rest of the house. A double bed with gray covers sat between two shelves. There were a ton of trophies, books, a football, several pictures of Rhys and his family, and a large, framed picture above his bed of a football field.

“What’s that grin for, Princess?”

Rhys’s voice startled me. “Oh, nothing,” I said, but Rhys gave me a look. “It’s just this is such a guy’s room.”

He lifted a brow. “So you approve?”

“Yeah,” I said, “though I’m not sure that matters.”

“It does.”

I so didn’t know what to do with that. For some reason, Ashely’s words filtered through my mind then: everyone knows there are no fat princesses.

Don’t read anything into it, Ariel. He’s not a real prince. You’re not a real princess. And this story won’t have a happy ending.

Shaking it off, I stiffened my spine.

“Why don’t we do Mr. Patachoui’s piece one more time before we try the waltz?” I said.

“Sure,” Rhys agreed, starting the music. “I have the most trouble with this one anyway.”

I didn’t tell him then, but whether he was struggling or not wasn’t why I wanted to run that particular dance again. It was because we didn’t have to touch in this one. Being in his room felt intimate. I needed a moment to adjust before the waltz.

Despite his words, Rhys didn’t seem to have any issues. We made it through the first dance fine; it was actually our best run-through. His dancing from last week to now was like night and day.

“I know your brother was teasing you downstairs,” I said, unable to hold back, “but I’m not when I say this, so please don’t take offense.”

Rhys shrugged. “That’s just Zach. What’s up?”

“You seriously don’t suck!”

“I’m trying not to be offended by the tone of surprise, Princess.”

I laughed. “No really, you haven’t even stepped on my foot once. How awesome is that?”

He gave me a nod. “So the bar was set that low, huh? Good to know.”

“Well,” I said, “you did offer to help me to my car if things went badly.”

Grabbing his heart, Rhys feigned hurt, but his eyes were bright. “And she goes for the jugular.”

“Rhys, stop. What I’m trying to say is I can’t believe you got so good this fast. It’s amazing.”

“Thanks, Princess. Ready to move on to the waltz?”

I nodded as he started the music. But even though I was expecting it this time, his touch still made me tremble.

“You good?” he said.

“Yeah.” I laughed at myself and then gave him a shrug. “I guess this one is more difficult for me.”

“Oh, and why’s that?”

You’re touching me.

It was the thought that ran like wildfire through my mind.

Rhys is touching me.

Rhys is touching me.

Rhys is touching me.

His hand was on my waist, his pinky occasionally grazing my hip, his eyes on mine making it hard to think—did he even realize what that did to me?

Jeez, I hoped not.

“The counts,” I fibbed. “The way it’s in threes is a little confusing.”

Rhys tilted his head. “But when we learned, you got it on the first try.”

“Beginner’s luck. It didn’t last, apparently.”

“You seem like you’re doing fine.”

To keep him off the trail, I faked a misstep—that turned into a real one when Rhys’s hand flexed against my waist. I nearly went down, but Rhys caught me.

“Careful,” he said.

“Sorry,” I muttered. “Like I said, the waltz doesn’t like me.”

Goodness, I was such a dork. In an effort to save face, I diverted the attention back to him.

“You said the other dance is harder for you?” I asked.

“That’s right.”

“Is that because it’s not as repetitive? Or because it’s longer, so there’s more to remember?”

“Neither of those.”

“Really?” I said. “Then why?”

“You sure you want to know?” he asked.

Rhys and I finished the dance in an elegant dip. He brought me up out of it slowly, and the look in his eyes was as stormy as ever. I wasn’t sure I did want to know his answer, but I nodded anyway.

“The other dance is more challenging because of the premise,” he said.

I was about to ask how when he went on.

“I’m not allowed to touch you.” Rhys’s jaw tightened. “But I want to. It…grounds me, helps me focus.”

My heart skipped a beat.

“And that, Princess, is the definition of frustrating.”

My goodness, I thought as my pulse skyrocketed, my breaths coming shorter. Did he actually just say that? Was it my imagination or was he leaning closer? My nerves seemed to melt away, Ashley’s words about who could and couldn’t be a princess a distant memory. Somehow my hands were still resting on his shoulders, and his had circled my back. The space between us had definitely gotten smaller.

His voice was quiet as he repeated, “So frustrating.”

Our lips were inches apart when there was a knock on the door. The sound had me jumping away, and Rhys took slow steps back.

“Hey guys,” Rhys’s dad said, sticking his head through the half-open door, “I just wanted to see if I could interest you in any snacks.”

“No, we’re good, Dad,” he said.

“Are you sure? I could bring up some carrot sticks, pretzels with dip or hey, how about some cheese?”

“We don’t need anything, but thanks.”

Mr. Castle frowned. “Well, maybe Ariel wants something. Did you even ask? Ariel, would you like some cheese? I have a whole plethora of them to choose from, and I’ve even dabbled at making my own.”

“Jeez, Dad. She doesn’t want any of your cheese.” Rhys looked to me a second later. “I mean, do you?”

I just shook my head, unsure whether to laugh, swoon, or bolt.

My phone pinged with a text. It was from my mom, and I’d never been more grateful. Maybe it was cowardly, but Rhys had just blown my mind. I needed a moment to think and get myself back together.

“Sorry, Mr. Castle,” I said. “My mom just texted. I really should get going.”

Rhys looked surprised. “You’re leaving already? But we’ve only done the waltz once.”

And it was more than enough, I thought. My fingertips could still feel the shape of his shoulders, for goodness sake.

“It’s okay. You’ve obviously got it down,” I said, walking to the door. “Besides, we’ll only have to do that one if we win king and queen. And though you totally have a shot at it, I don’t see that for me. This was fun. Thanks for having me over.”

“No problem,” Rhys said. “I’ll walk you to your car.”

“That’s not necessary. I’ll see you later.”

Before I knew it, I was in my car on the way back to my house. I didn’t remember the drive at all. Jesus must’ve taken the wheel, because I was in a total daze. Somehow I made it home without incident. But inside, I was a total wreck.

What was that back there?