A Royal Christmas Cruise: Stonewall Investigations Miami Read online

  But the name of that child… Nicholas Silva.

  Nicholas.

  Holy mother-princing shit.

  More recent photos popped up, and any kind of doubt I had disappeared. There were shots of Nick leaving bars, restaurants, clubs. Always holding a girl’s hand, a stunning woman with dark black hair that fell down in a sheer curtain toward the small of her back. Then there were the articles talking about their recent break-up, and the shockwaves it caused when the news hit.

  Nick was freaking royalty? And I was just photographed in his arms?

  Oh wow, was this Christmas turning out to be packed full of surprises already.

  9 Nicholas Silva

  I woke up in great spirits. The sun streamed in through the windows that lined the wall next to the bed, breaking in through the corners of the blackout curtain that covered the balcony door. I half expected to hear a chorus of birds chirping before I remembered that we were miles out in the middle of the ocean, where I’d hear dolphins chirping before birds. I stretched underneath the covers, running my hands down my body, giving my morning wood a squeeze. I normally slept naked, and last night was no exception, although my constant boner for Shiro made it a little harder than usual.

  I rolled over on the bed and grabbed my phone from the white nightstand. I had set it facedown and on night mode so that no notifications woke me up during the middle of the night.

  First I woke to messages from Luna, telling me “I had to call her immediately.” Then followed messages from my mother telling me to also call her immediately.

  Before I could dial back either of them, my phone started to vibrate as I got a FaceTime call.

  From my father.

  What in the world had happened? I got out of bed and quickly threw on a shirt and boxers before accepting the call, moving over to the balcony where I looked out at the sky-blue ocean as the call connected.

  “Nicholas, where are you?”

  My father, a man who carried the crown and never let the crown carry him, had a demeanor that could scare a lion. Growing up, I learned that his facade didn’t extend too deeply. He had a soft core underneath the hardened exterior, something not many were aware of. It allowed me to challenge him, to push at the boundaries he had set. I learned that even though he was the king, he was still my father.

  “I’m on a cruise,” I said, sleep still clouding my thoughts. “Is everything okay? ¿Donde esta mamá?”

  “Your mother is fine. I’m getting told that there are photographs circulating. Is there anything you need to tell me? Anything we need to handle?”

  “Photos?”

  Instantly, I assumed the worst. Someone had snapped a shot of me and Shiro swapping spit. The secret was out. Everyone was going to know. I wanted to pass out, but I steadied my legs and focused on finding a way out of this.

  “Well, one photo. But knowing my son, I have a feeling there could be more.”

  “I haven’t seen anything.”

  My father turned his phone. He had been sitting in the study, the wall of books behind him now being replaced by the screen of his computer. On the center was the photo, and if I didn’t catch myself, I would have breathed out a sigh of relief.

  Yes, it was a photo of Shiro and me, but my back was turned to the camera and it was difficult to tell it was me. And, although Shiro was in my arms, I could still see plenty of ways to spin it, one of which happened to be the truth: “My friend fell and I caught him. Is that why you’re FaceTiming with me as if the palace caught on fire?”

  “It will catch fire if this turns out to be more than just a friend catching another one, Nicholas.”

  A flare of anger rose inside me. I should have done it. Should have just come out right then and there. My father must have sensed something, or he wouldn’t be so worried about other photos leaking. He had to have some kind of idea.

  And still, I kept my mouth shut.

  “Nick,” my father said. “You left us here having to deal with stories upon stories, of how you broke Cristella’s heart. Devastated her. There had been rumors of marriage, and now there’s rumors of you being gay. How am I supposed to handle this?”

  The word cut through me like a sharpened blade. He had said it with such a toxic disdain.

  Gay.

  Exactly what I was, and what my father dreaded to hear.

  “You can handle it. You’re the king.”

  My father rubbed the bridge of his nose. He looked out the window to his left, his eyes catching the light. I saw something reflected in them. Was it pain?

  “Nicholas…”

  “All right, I’ve got to go.” And figure out who the fuck is leaking photos.

  I didn’t let my father get in another word. I clicked the call off, dropping my head against the glass door of the balcony. Part of me wanted to cry. I wanted to crack like an egg and let the tears flow like yolk. This was torture. Why couldn’t I just have said it then and there? Father, I’m gay. The crown can fucking deal with it, but guess what? Your son can’t. Your son can’t keep getting eaten up like he’s been infested with termites.

  I held it together. This wasn’t the time to break. I took a deep breath and went to my suitcase. I changed into a pair of light-blue boardshorts and a black T-shirt. I slipped my hat back on and grabbed the sunglasses, too, the circular lenses hiding much of my face.

  With my impromptu disguise in place, I left my room. Luna, the guardian angel that she was, had been sitting in the hallway, standing up the second she saw me.

  “Nick, did you see?”

  I nodded, lips pursed. The hall was empty, but I still couldn’t trust anything. Not after it was confirmed that someone on this ship knew who I was and who to send photos to.

  “I need to have a chat with my friend,” I said, walking to the elevator bay. “Keep your eyes peeled, Luna.”

  “I will, Nick.”

  We got onto the elevator, falling silent when someone else joined us, the woman smelling strongly of coconut sunblock. She smiled pleasantly as the glass elevator took us down. I mustered up a smile back even though my insides all felt like they’d been replaced with jelly.

  How the hell was I going to tell Shiro this? That I was actually the closeted prince of Spain and I now needed his help to find out who was sneaking pictures of me on this ship? His mind was going to blow. Would he be upset? Would he be scared? After the immense amount of fun I’d been having with him, I certainly didn’t want to scare him away.

  Fucking hell.

  If I were out and proud, I wouldn’t have to worry about scaring Shiro away. I could have been truthful with him from the start. I could have prevented this entire mess by just living my truth instead of living this fucked-up lie.

  The elevator opened on Shiro’s floor. I stepped out, Luna following. She stayed a close distance behind me but hung back even farther when I reached Shiro’s door. She gave me a thumbs-up when I threw a glance her way. I had a feeling that, out of everyone on this planet, Luna had known me better than most. In her eyes, I saw recognition. She knew the photo wasn’t an accident or I wouldn’t have been freaking out so much about it. I had a feeling she understood the storm that raged inside me on a daily basis. She tipped her straw hat back down on her face, concealing her eyes just as Shiro’s door opened.

  “We’ve got to talk,” I said.

  “Oh, trust me, I know.”

  “You… know?”

  “I know.”

  I drew my brows together. “You know… what?”

  “Get inside,” Shiro said, grabbing my wrist and pulling me into his room. He shut the door, his back falling against it. He looked like the definition of a snack, wearing black shorts that ended midthigh, hugging his muscular legs. His shirt was a black V-neck with pink writing scrawled over the chest saying the date and city of the Ariana Grande concert he’d bought the shirt at.

  “Mind the mess,” Shiro said, motioning at the suitcase sitting on his bathroom floor, clothes spilling out of it. “I don’t ha
ve a royal cleaning crew.”

  “So… you do know.”

  “That you’re a freaking prince? Yes, I figured that out last night.”

  “How?”

  Shiro pulled out his phone and showed me the tweet he had stumbled on.

  “And then I did some googling. It wasn’t that hard.”

  “Fuck.”

  “Yeah, that’s a good way to put it.” Shiro grabbed his phone back and walked to his bed. He sat on the edge of it, looking at me as if I were a Rubik’s cube he was trying to solve. His eyes raked over me, looking me up and down and up again. “I can’t believe it.” He said it to himself, but I still heard.

  “Shy…”

  “The prince of Spain.”

  “Please, just call me Nick.”

  “Okay.” He slanted his lips into a smirk. “Prince Nick.”

  I rolled my eyes. “Just Nick.”

  “I’ll think about it.”

  I went over to the table that was set against the light brown wall. His balcony curtains had been drawn open, giving us a view of the sun glittering off the blue waters. I took a seat, facing him. “I would have said something before you found out this way.”

  “Really?” Shiro asked. His walls were going up. I could tell in the way he sat, his legs angled away from me, his hands in a tight fist on his lap.

  “I swear it. I would have told you, I just needed a little bit more time. This vacation was supposed to give me an escape I’ve been needing. So I’m sorry I wasn’t very forthcoming about my title, I just haven’t been wanting to think about it much.”

  “Isn’t that a little hard when, you know, you’re a freaking prince?”

  “I’m coming to learn it’s harder than I thought.”

  Shiro let out an exasperated breath. “This is crazy.”

  “It is.” I latched on to that statement like a bass on a worm-wiggling hook. “It’s crazy how intense our chemistry is. How it’s exploded in a matter of hours. It’s crazy how I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you, even with the threat of being outed by some dickhead with a camera phone. For the first time in my life, I’m beginning to think, ‘fuck it.’ And that’s what’s so fucking crazy about all this.”

  Shiro looked to me, his liquid-gold eyes catching the sunlight just right, lighting them up as if he had two small stars tucked behind his pupils. “I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you either.”

  “That has to mean something. I’ve never met someone who’s done that to me.”

  Shiro chewed on the inside of his cheek before speaking. “Me neither.”

  I stood up, moved to the bed. Shiro didn’t move away. He did the opposite, opening up to me, as if the distance was the only thing that had been bothering him. He turned toward me, his hands moving to either side of him, his fingers brushing against mine. The air between us crackled and popped.

  It was Shiro who broke first, who pushed through the electric force field that separated us. His lips found mine, crushed against them. His hands came up to my head as I took his tongue into my mouth, let it dance with mine. There were no cameras, no prying eyes. Just me and Shy, sharing a kiss that sealed our fates, even if neither of us knew that yet.

  When we broke for air, Shiro’s eyes locked with mine, his breath tickling my lips.

  “Crazy,” he said again, before I claimed him with my mouth.

  Our kiss was one that lasted, both of us exploring the other with our lips locked and our hands roaming. I rubbed his hard chest over his shirt, while his hand explored my back, slipping under my shirt and sliding over my skin. We kissed and groped and let the worries we were feeling dissolve into the air, rising with the steam that swirled from the both of us.

  Three hard knocks on the door interrupted us. Shy’s eyes went wide. He got up and tiptoed over to the door, peeking through the peephole. He turned back to me and mouthed out, “Ace” before motioning to his open bathroom. I stood and went inside, silently shutting the door.

  I could hear Shiro greet his friend, a slight rawness to his voice.

  “Shy, get out of bed and come to the ugly Christmas sweater party!”

  “Is that where everyone’s going? I thought it was tonight.”

  “It’s an all-day thing. We want to get some day-drinking in. I’ve been texting you,” Ace said, his voice getting louder. Wait, had he come inside?

  I started to panic.

  “Like my sweater?” Ace sounded as if he were just outside the bathroom door. I heard jingling.

  “I can’t even believe someone knit that thing,” Shiro said with a laugh, one that sounded nervous. “All right, well, let me get ready, then. Go downstairs, I’ll meet you guys. It’s in the igloo room, right?”

  “Yup,” Ace said, sounding almost as if he were inside the bathroom with me. My heart was beating so loud I was scared he would hear it through the door. “Let me just use your restroom real quic—”

  “No!” Shiro must have pressed his body against the bathroom door because it shook. I leaned against the counter, feeling as if the gig was about to be up. The bathroom was tiny, and there were zero escape routes, unless I pushed out the small round window and jumped down into the sea.

  “I, um, well, you don’t want to go in there right now.”

  “Ooookay… Shy, do you still have that stomach thing? Where you had that special doctor’s note in college for? The one where you poo—”

  “No!” Shiro shouted again. I had to swallow down a laugh. “I don’t have any stomach thing. Stomach is actually better than ever. The best. Now go. Like now.”

  I could hear shuffling toward the door and then the door shutting. Moments later came a knock on the door and Shiro saying, “It’s safe.”

  I walked back out. Shiro’s cheeks were flushed pink. “That was close. Sorry for the scare.”

  “It’s all right,” I said, shutting the bathroom door. “Glad your stomach’s doing better.”

  “Okay, don’t.”

  I laughed and sat back down on the edge of the bed. Shiro sat, too, his face cracking into a smile.

  “I should start getting ready for the party,” Shy said, his hand on my thigh. “Before Ace comes barging back in here.”

  “Mind if I tag along?”

  “What? Yeah, of course. I just… you don’t have to always hang around me. Maybe, after the photo, maybe it’s best we don’t hang out too much… at least in public?”

  “Is that what you really want?” I was suddenly scared of what his answer would be.

  “No. Not at all.”

  “Good. I don’t want that either.” I sighed and ran a hand through my hair, feeling the frustration take hold. “I don’t want to hide. Ever again. But… I’m also not ready to fully come out. I can’t.”

  “It happens on your time, Nick. Don’t let some sneaky-ass paparazzi take that from you.”

  The ship rocked gently, left to right. We were supposed to spend the entire day at sea, and then tomorrow we would drop anchor at Princess Cays. I had planned on spending the day by myself, sipping rum out of coconuts on some sandy beach, but those plans were quickly vanishing as I realized all I wanted to do was spend time with Shy.

  “I won’t,” I said, digging fingers into the tense muscle between my shoulder and neck. “When did you know? That you were gay?” This was the first time I’d ever spoken about this with anyone. With every word I said, another shackle fell loose from my body.

  “Probably since the sixth grade when I tried to kiss Tommy Campanella by the swings after I’d just been asked to a Sadie Hawkin’s dance by the girl who’d been crushing on me since I could remember.”

  “That would do it,” I said, chuckling.

  “How about you?” he asked. It felt like Shy had just handed me a key. A question I’d never been asked before, and one I so desperately needed to answer.

  The floodgates had been opened.

  “I’ve always known… I’ve always felt a pull. I went to an all-boys school and never quite g
ot along with anyone, and that’s because I felt so out of place. While everyone talked about the girls they’d want to date, I was picturing myself with my classmates. Never speaking about it, and painfully reprimanding myself in the beginning for even letting myself think the things I’d been thinking. It was shitty, but it seemed to have worked for a while. I started dating girls, and the thoughts, they never disappeared, but they did subside.” I shook my head and took a deep breath, feeling like even my lungs were trembling with emotion. “Only for a little while, though. I couldn’t keep my true self down, no matter how hard I tried. I remembered the day I met the American president’s son, and it had just been the two of us, and I had felt something spark. Nothing happened between us and he’s married now with two kids, but still, it had all resurfaced that day. I wondered if maybe I was bi, but I realized I couldn’t find any romantic feelings for any of the women I’d ever been with, and the sex didn’t really do it for me either. I would look at openly gay men and find myself feeling jealous. Hatefully so. I wanted what they had so badly. And I thought I’d never get it… Shit. I still feel like I might not get it.”

  “You will get it, Nick. You deserve it, just as much as everyone else. Just by saying all this out loud, you’re one step closer.”

  “It does feel like I am. Like I got this massive weight off my chest.”

  I noticed a glint of something in Shy’s brown eyes before he wiped it away. “You don’t have to feel the weight again. Even if a picture or two leaks, you have keep that weight from settling back.”

  “On that note… I actually need your help. You said you worked at a detective agency, right?”

  “Mhmm.”

  “Well, I need to find out who took and leaked that photo. I need to stop them from sending anything else they might have. Or from taking any more of us. Because, trust me, I don’t plan on staying far from you.”

  Shiro’s brows scrunched together. “That sounds almost like you’re ready to throw someone overboard.”

  “No, never.” I shook my head. “I’ve dealt with this before. The paparazzi, the ones who scrape from the bottom of the barrel, they can always be bought. I have the bank account of an entire crown behind me. I can make sure no more photos of me get out.”