The Crown Prince's Pet

Two years I've kept this man. My broke upperclassman. My standin. My pretty little boy toy, on a twentyfivegrandamonth leash.

And today I'm trading him in for my first love. [He's back. I'm coming to get him. Don't make a scene.] I hit send without blinking.

I made it halfway to the airport before a dozen supercars boxed my car onto the shoulder. The lead Bugatti opened.

And the man who unfolded out of it, slow, hands in his pockets, looking at me like I'd just shorted him on a deal, was the boy toy I'd been keeping.

The rich kids hanging out of the other cars started to whistle. "Yo," one of them called, leaning halfway out his window. "The crown prince himself.

Getting played in broad daylight." Chapter 1 So I bought myself a boy toy. Let me back up. I had a first love once. My deskmate, junior year of high school.

My dad found out, wrote him a fiftythousanddollar check, and told him to disappear. He took it. Just like that, he became my one great lost love.

Then he moved abroad, which, honestly, only added to the legend. By the time I got to college, my dad had a new rule. Date another broke nobody, he said, and he'd break my legs.

I nodded, tearyeyed. Solemn. Devoted. Then I went straight to campus to find the brokest pretty boy I could. Look. I have a type, and the type is gorgeous. It didn't take long.

There was this junior. Thirdyear, never around, a face that looked assembled by a committee of women who knew exactly what they wanted. People said rich women drove him around.

Said one of them bought him a car. The guys in his dorm talked about him like a legend. One afternoon he climbed out of the passenger seat of some man's Bentley.

Swings both ways, then. Noted. A few nights later my friends dragged me to a bar. First time in my life, actually. My parents had banned it since birth.

And there he was again, cutting through the crowd toward the back. Going to change into his waiter's uniform, I figured. Poor thing.

So I slammed a bottle, marched over, and grabbed his sleeve.

He turned, frowning. "How are you here?" "You know me?" He leaned in, caught the alcohol on me, and the frown deepened. "You're drinking." I towed him outside.

Planted myself on my toes, since he had a good head on me, and delivered my line from on high. "Come with me.

Quit this miserable little job." "..." I crossed my arms and narrowed my eyes. "Don't play innocent. You're broke.

That's the whole reason the old cougars and the old men keep you around. So name your price.

You work for me now." I snuck a glance at him, then produced a card. "There's twenty grand on it. Try to contain yourself. That's just a month's pocket money.

Behave, and I'll buy you a car too." He was quiet for a moment. "How much have you had to drink?" "Two bottles." I sniffed. "Barely a buzz." Then I passed out.

On the way down, his arm came around me. Arms that clearly did something in their spare time. A chest like a wall. Good. The merchandise has structure.

I woke up the next morning in a hotel bed. He was on the sofa, typing on a laptop. Fully dressed. So was I, every button exactly where I'd left it. Huh. Decent of him.

He crossed the room and handed me a glass of water. "No more drinking." I clicked my tongue. "My business, not yours. Last night. The offer. Are you in?" He raised a brow. "Oh.

You remember." "What, twentyfive's too low for you?" I scoffed. "Fine. Twentyfive a month.

I don't have much, but I have money." He laughed under his breath. "Sure." Then he slid the card back across the table. "Your balance won't cover the room." I froze.

Twenty grand didn't cover it? I paid at the front desk with a face like a thundercloud. The clerk kept looking between us like we were a riddle she couldn't solve.

Twentyeight thousand. One night. In this dump. Should've at least taken a bath first. And so I acquired a boy toy.

Per the billionaireromance playbook, a woman in my position buys a penthouse near campus. So I did. ...Okay. My dad bought it. He covers the HOA too.

He gives me fifty grand a month. My fixed overhead is now twentyfive. Plus I have to start saving to buy the boy toy his car. I do have savings.

But the second I move real money, my parents start asking questions. Chapter 2 And so began my life as a keeper of men.

To prove my undying devotion to my first love, I made a point of treating the new one like dirt. "Come. Have dinner with me." I said exactly that into the phone, then hung up. Fast.

So fast I nearly dropped it. I patted my own chest to settle down. A woman of means has to protect the brand. Except he was clearly working off a different script.

One written specifically to humiliate me. Twenty minutes. Not a soul under my dorm window. I called back through my teeth. "Man.

You are testing my patience." His voice came through slow and unbothered. "Sweetheart, it's not that I don't want to come running. You didn't say where.

Where exactly am I supposed to go?" His voice was annoyingly good. Low. The kind that does something to a room. "Even that you have to ask," I snapped. "You're nothing next to him.

Under my dorm. You've got sixty seconds." He took ten minutes. I swallowed my rage. "Know your place. You're a standin.

Standins don't get an attitude." "Okay." We went to the dining hall.

He'd dawdled so long that the honeygarlic meatballs, my favorite, were already gone. "Slack off like this," I grumbled, "and you'll get yourself fired." "Then I'll go." The crack script again.

I nearly died on the spot. "...I'll let it slide.

This once." After dinner I took him back to the place near campus. "You live here now," I announced. "Show me your health report." "I'm clean," he said. "I performed for the money.

Never sold the rest." I stared at him. But the books were very clear. At a certain point I was supposed to get drunk, mistake him for my first love, and have my way with him.

And he didn't sell the rest. So how, exactly, was I supposed to keep this boy toy? Inspiration struck. I lifted my chin. "Relax. I'm not trying to sleep with you. You're a standin.

I just like to look at you and miss the real thing." He stretched out on the sofa and patted the cushion beside him. Obviously I did not go.

I poured myself a glass of red, like a mature adult, fully intending to sip it with grace. I'd lifted the bottle from my dad's cellar.

He took the glass straight out of my hand. "No drinking." His face went flat. He held my eyes like he might actually hit me if I pushed it.

Was I about to become the first sugar mommy in history to get smacked by her own boy toy? No. Wait.

In the novels the keeper always gets smacked, but only when the boy toy is defending his honor. So I set the glass down like a reasonable woman. "I have a stomach thing.

Genuinely can't drink." He laughed. "You. A stomach thing." "What? The condition's too prestigious for me?

Male CEOs get to have it, female CEOs don't qualify?" He laughed under his breath again.

I texted him a menu. "You cook for me now." "Mm." With nothing left to do, I asked, "So what's the situation at home? Short on cash?" "Short on cash." "Knew it.

A vain man." My first love left me for money too. The thought put my fist down on the coffee table hard enough to make me bare my teeth.

But I pushed through the pain and delivered the line anyway. "Men. Not one good one in the bunch." Chapter 3 He lost it. Threw his head back and laughed.

I had never felt so professionally disrespected. College kept me busy. Freshman year is a lot of credits, and on top of that I had my internship at the family company.

My dad floors my allowance at fifty grand a month. Perform well, and you can apply for more. I have three older brothers and two older sisters.

Every one of them has already carved out a seat at the company.

I'm the runt of the litter, which means I have to prove I can run things, fast, if I want my father signing more of the empire over to me. Besides.

I'd read enough billionaire romance to know the rules. A proper lady tycoon needs an empire of her own.

That way, the day my boy toy inevitably tries to fly the coop, I can ground his jet on the runway, climb aboard, and have my way with him.

So I was clocking out at nine, ten at night. Lennox, to his credit, was dutiful about it. He'd drive out to collect me most nights, in my Range Rover, technically.

There was always a late supper waiting at home. If I had lunch at the office, he somehow knew, and food would appear. Not delivered by him, obviously.

I'd laid down the law on that. "You do not show up in front of my family. You're the secret lover. The kept man.

Don't get ideas about a promotion." I looked pointedly at his stomach. "Besides. It's not like you can give me an heir." "Okay," he said.

So he cooked, and a courier brought it over. Winter break came fast. I had to go home for the succession war, so I left him at my place.

New Year's Eve, I sat in the warm chaos of my whole family, everyone laughing, and thought about how my boy toy was an orphan, alone in an empty apartment.

Something pinched in my chest. I crushed it. The last thing I needed was him getting ideas about us. Then my phone lit up. A photo from him. Fireworks.

It made me happier than I'd ever admit. I held out a dignified five minutes before I texted back. [Where are you?] [Home.] [Mm.] I pictured him years from now.

Old, faded, while I'd long since moved on. Some halfgray waiter pouring drinks in a dim little bar. I sighed for him. [Wait up for me.] Then I snuck out and drove over.

He opened the door before I knocked. A little out of breath, like he'd rushed to get to it. It was New Year's, so I smiled at him. "Happy New Year." And handed him a fat envelope.

Ten grand inside. My mom had slipped it to me earlier. I was passing it off as my own generosity. He took it, smiling.

Then he caught my hand, drew me in, and slid one palm to the back of my head. And then he stopped. A breath from my mouth.

Close enough that the heat came off his skin, close enough that my pulse tripped and lost its count. Then he kissed me. He's touched, obviously. Look how proactive he's being.

And I let myself sink into all that warmth. By the time the room swam back into focus, it was past four in the morning. I was foggy and useless.

I let him run the bath, dress me, dry my hair, all of it. He really did hold a grudge. All I'd said was, "A man should have some restraint, you know.

My first love would never be this shameless." And he'd spent the whole night, very patiently, asking whether I planned on bringing up other men in his bed again. I lost on stamina.

Had to call a temporary truce. Then I was too wrecked to keep my eyes open, and went under. Felt like minutes before someone shook me awake. I looked around. I was in the car.

Parked outside my family's house. Chapter 4 New Year's morning, you eat breakfast early. No sleeping in. House rule. I scrambled out of the car. "Go home.

Take the car with you." "Mm." He looked at me. "Come back tonight. I'll put something on it for you." It did, in fact, ache down there. The trials a tycoon endures.

And still she has to play it cool. So I nodded, coolly, and limped upstairs. "Where've you been?" my mom asked. I rolled out a shoulder. "Run.

Went for a run." Then I climbed the stairs on pure willpower. My boy toy and I were, I had decided, deeply in love.

Especially once the new semester started and we just openly lived together. He walked me to the door every morning and kissed me goodbye like a good boy. Very obedient.

I left early every day. First class at eight. Plus overtime, because there's always overtime to volunteer for, morning or night.

Slack off, and I'd be stuck living on trustfund money instead of building an empire.

One day I got out of my first two classes and went to find my boy toy, who had third and fourth period. The plan was to keep him company, take him to lunch.

Maybe even be nice to him, if he behaved. Instead I found some girl leaning over his desk, all shy and pink, murmuring something to him. He was out here fishing. For other women.

I went cold all over. I walked up and put ice in my voice. "Lennox. What do you think you're doing." He opened his mouth.

I didn't let him use it. "Who gave you permission to flirt with other women?" The classroom, which had gone silent the second I walked in, burst out laughing.

They were laughing at me. I could feel it. I grabbed his wrist and hauled him up. "You.

With me." "The finance professor's a hardliner," he said, mild as milk. "Skip his class and you fail." Right on cue, the bell rang.

An old professor shuffled in and took one look at the two of us, midtugofwar. "And what are you two doing?

Manhandling each other in my classroom." Some helpful soul piped up. "Sir, that's his girlfriend. She's here on a spot check." The room howled.

He pulled me down into the seat next to his. I planted my face in the desk cubby. Once class started, I hissed, very quietly, "This is your fault." He was still fighting a laugh.

I could have strangled him. After some thought, I changed his profile picture to the two of us making a heart with our hands. There. Now no one gets any ideas.

The second class let out, I grabbed his wrist and towed him into the hall. Then someone walked past and ruined my flow, so I found a quieter corner.

I backed him against the wall and said it, cool as anything. "You're mine. I called it. No fishing." He looked at me. His throat moved. So I kissed him. Hard.

His hand came up to the back of my neck, pulling me in instead of pushing me off. We made out in that stairwell for ten solid minutes and walked back into class with swollen lips.

His friends were still on it. "Hale. Why are your mouths all puffy?" "Yeah, man, what gives?" "Come on. How'd they get like that. Details." "Get lost," he said.

After that, I started staking my claim out loud, all over campus. Couldn't have anyone trying to poach my boy toy.

Chapter 5 As luck would have it, the student council planned a weekend at Lakehaven Lodge upstate. I'd put my name on the roster, mostly for show.

But networking is networking, so I brought Lennox along. There was this guy there. A nepoheir who used to chase me, the kind who figured a big enough check would close the deal.

He took one look at me with Lennox on my arm and smirked. "So.

You're into keeping pretty boys now?" We happened to be fishing at the time, which gave me all the room I needed to work with. I wrapped myself around my boy toy from behind.

He glanced back at me, puzzled. "You," I announced, with great authority, "are going to make sure everyone here knows this whole dock is yours." Then I flagged down the manager. "We're booking out this entire stretch of water.

Nobody else fishes here. Especially him—" I pointed at the nepoheir. "Not him." The manager's eyes went wide. He looked at me. He looked at Lennox.

Then he bent nearly in half. "Of course. Of course." The heir went red to the ears. But he didn't make a scene.

The man who owned this lodge, people said, was someone you did not cross. Nobody ever acted up here. So I figured that was what shut him up. Worked for me.

I still swung by my dorm now and then to hang with my roommates. Otherwise what was the point of college. One day we did a group dinner.

The faculty dining hall opens to students too, and it's basically a real restaurant, cheap and genuinely good, so we booked a private room. My roommates started in on me. "Tatum.

You get a boyfriend and suddenly you forget your own people? Don't you go ditching friends for a man." "Right? You're glowing every single day.

Are you trying to kill us." "Girl, don't be too good to him. Men act up when you spoil them." I scoffed.

I sipped my orange juice like it was a fine red, did my best impression of Lennox's whole lazy thing, and waved a hand. "Boyfriend? What boyfriend?" "He's a standin. A plaything.

A boy toy. That's all." God, it felt good to say. Then every one of my roommates sucked in a breath at once. All of them staring past me. At the door. I turned around.

Lennox stood in the doorway, hands in his pockets, looking at me. Cold.

And behind him lounged a handful of guys with money in the way they stood, whistling, like someone had just handed them frontrow seats.

One of them slung an arm across Lennox's shoulders, grinning. "Yo. Wide range you've got, brother. You're somebody's boy toy now too? HAHAHA