me Rapunzel.
Orlando.
Yet this man looks nothing like the boy I remember. This man has the same dark hair and steel-gray eyes. He even says Rapunzel the same way, but that's where the similarities end.
The man in front of me has more muscles, long, sexy hair, and a beard I want to run my fingers through. He also looks damn good in the suit he's wearing. There’s always been something sexy about a hot man in a suit.
Even before comprehending it was Orlando, I was turned on by this man sitting across from me. My body seemed to remember him even when the rest of me didn't.
"Orlando?" I ask, still not sure I believe this is him sitting in front of me.
His eyes flash with heat as he offers me a brief smile, and I instantly know this is my Orlando. This is my best friend and the guy I planned my whole life with. The man I thought I'd travel the world with and the one who would help me get away from my family.
That's what we dreamt of in the garden, lying on a blanket, watching the clouds go by on those summer days before jumping in the pool. We made bucket lists and planned extravagant trips we knew would never happen.
I sag in relief. No matter his reason for grabbing me, I know I'm safe, even if nothing makes sense right now.
His smile disappears, replaced by a stone-cold expression. "What’s wrong?"
I look around, registering the fancy suit and luxurious car. The watch on his wrist is more expensive than a Rolex. Who is this man? He’s not the Orlando I remember.
"What is all this?" I ask without thinking.
"Time for that later. Now talk," he says, sounding annoyed.
I study him for a moment. He radiates power, and like my dad, he seems to be used to people doing what he says when he says it. How disappointed he’ll be when he realizes I won't fall in line like everyone else.
I think I'll have fun disobeying him, but now isn’t the time to do it.
Orlando raises an eyebrow at me, almost in warning. I sigh and tell him everything I remember from the moment I walked into my dorm until he grabbed me.
He angrily taps on his phone, not saying a word. The more I tell him, the madder gets. When I finally finish the story, he says nothing. I expect yelling or for him to hop on the phone with my dad, but he’s silent.
Needing to see how mad he is and find out what the plans are, I finally break the silence and ask, "Where are we going?"
"Home," he replies.
"No!" One word and cold panic grips me again. My heart races, fear seizes me, and I shake, fearing being thrown back into that tower.
Orlando’s eyes snap to mine.
"Don't take me back to my father. Please! I can't go back there,” I beg, something I was taught never to do as a Russo. “He’ll never let me out again. Please, I can't go back!"
Orlando smirks and sets his phone down. "My home. Our home."
He reaches for me, and I don't fight him because I'm stunned by what I thought I heard. He pulls me onto his lap, wrapping his arms around me and trying to calm me. I must have misheard him in my panicked state.
"What?" I ask, sure I heard him wrong. There’s no way he said “our home.”
"I'm so sorry. I thought college would be good for you, but I won't make that mistake again,” he whispers into my hair, rubbing my back.
I feel safe as he pulls me against him, and his warmth surrounds me. For the first time since my dorm, I relax and begin to plan. There’s no way it's this simple. There’s no way I get away from my father this easily.
"What?" I repeat, unable to form any other words.
Orlando shakes his head but doesn’t speak. As much as I want an explanation, I know I won't get one right now.
"Will you help me?" I ask, needing to know I won't be going back to my father and locked away again.
"Of course, but it will cost you."
I sigh. "It always does."
When I asked him to play Barbies with me as a kid, he always said it would cost me. Usually, the price was a dare, but that one time, it cost me a kiss. Not a real kiss—it was only a peck on the cheek. If nothing had changed, would those dares have progressed to something more? God, I hope so because that's where my dirty thoughts go at night.
"What will it cost me this time?"
"Three dates."
I sit there in shock. He’ll help me, but I have to give him three dates.
It can't be that easy. Can it?
Something tells me three dates with Orlando will cost me much more than a kiss.