Whaddya know, the princess liked grilled cheese. I had made it just to piss her off, just to prove that her whole “oh, I’m just a regular old nobody like everyone else” was full of shit.

But after I’d grilled the two slices of white bread with the slab of cheddar between, as I’d carried it over to her on my cracked porcelain plate, her face had lit up.

And now there she was on the couch, face still delighted, trying to lift the slightly burned thing to her mouth. After a few tries, she finally dropped it onto the couch.

So, picking it up, I lifted it to her lips. After a long suspicious look, she dipped her head down and took a big bite. She swallowed and then licked some crumbs off her soft lower lip.

“Thanks.”

I looked away.

“No problem.”

“What is it?” she asked.

“What is what?”

“Why were you looking at me like that?”

I lifted the grilled cheese again, but she shook her head.

“Oh, it was nothing,” I said. “Just…there’s crumbs on your lower lip.”

She pouted, lifted her hands, sighed, and then flicked out her tongue again. Still, however, a few crumbs persisted.

“Here, I’ll get ‘em.”

As I brushed them away, I glanced up and caught her eye. Her gaze was locked on my lips.

I lifted the bread again and she took another bite, chewed, and then swallowed. When I lifted the now half-finished sandwich, she advanced and then paused.

“It would be easier if you just untied me.”

I shook my head.

“Sorry. Orders are orders.”

She responded by taking an extra big bite and groaning as crumbs fell on her wedding dress.

“Could you at least let me wear something different? I don’t know how much longer I can stand being in this stupid thing.”

In spite of myself, I smiled.

“Don’t girls love their wedding dresses?”

She shrugged.

“I didn’t even choose this or ninety percent of what was going to happen at my own damn wedding.”

I chuckled.

“Sounds like I did you a favor.”

Falling silent, she scowled. Finally, after another minute, she flicked her gaze down at her dress and then back up at me.

“Well?” she said.

“Finish the grilled cheese. Then we’ll see.”

In two swift bites, the sandwich was gone and her expectant look was back.

“Well?”

I rose.

“Damn. You really want out of that thing, huh?”

Such a desolate look passed over her face that I almost regretted saying it.

“Isn’t it enough that my wedding was ruined without me having to wear a reminder of it?”

Flopped there in her glistening ivory and gold dress, her lashes lowered, her lips drawn together, she looked so sad I almost wanted to sit down there beside her, take her in my arms, and comfort her. But instead I headed for the stairs.

“Fine. I’ll see what I can find.”

Lucky for her, in the bottom of my closet there were some forgotten sweats that had shrunk in the wash.

Tossing them over the railing down to the first floor, I called, “You can wear these.”

Silence. When I got down there, Alice was glaring at me.

“What?” I asked.

“How am I supposed to get into them?”

“I’ll help you,” I answered, patting her rosy cheek as she scrambled back.

“I don’t want your help,” she said.

“Fine. Have it your way.”

I turned on my heel and walked to the stairs. Once I was on the top stair, however, she whispered my name.

“Jake?”

She was standing now, looking straight at me.

“Okay,” she said.

“Oh yeah?”

“Yes. Please help me.”

I intended to wait there on the top step for a bit, maybe see if I could get her to grovel. But she looked so helpless all tied up that I ended up going back down the stairs right away.

“First we’ll get you out of the dress,” I said, walking around her as I looked at the insanely intricate thing.

“What?” Alice asked after another minute of my motionless silence.

“How do you get out of this thing?”

She laughed and jerked her head toward the back.

“It’s got a zipper.”

I gripped the zipper and pulled down. I meant to go fast, but the zipper didn’t want to budge. It would only consent to be slowly, painstakingly lowered down. So down the little white metal the thing swooped, revealing a sequined bra strap and then, farther down, an ivory white back with the odd freckle here and there. Then, once it got to her lower back, it stopped. I pulled and I pulled, but it wouldn’t move.

Alice groaned.

“It’s stuck, isn’t it?”

“Yeah…” I tugged on it again. “What do you want me to do?”

“Just keep pulling. You have to. I’ve tried getting out of this thing with the zipper partly undone, and it doesn’t work.”

So I did. I tried everything. I pulled the zipper back up and then down. I tried reaching in and feeling around for the cause of the jam. Nothing worked. Finally, in exasperation, I yanked the zipper as hard as I could, pulling it through the jammed-up part and down so hard that I took her whole dress and her sequined white underwear with it.

For a second, I was frozen in shock, transfixed by the sight of the most beautiful ivory ass I had ever seen.

Next thing I knew, Alice was scrambling away, trying in vain to grab at the fallen panties and dress.

“What the hell!”

At the front door, she turned around and glared at me. The front view of her sequined white bra was just as hot as the back had suggested. Dipping in the front, the two cups were joined with a gem in the center, supporting two small but milky white, beautifully shaped breasts.

“Asshole.”

“Sorry,” I said with a not-very-sorry smirk.

As I advanced, she shrank into the corner.

“Chill,” I said. “I’ll pull them back on and get you into the sweats.”

Still, however, she wouldn’t turn around.

“Promise?” she asked quietly, looking at me over her shoulder, her eyes pleading.

I nodded, shifting my gaze to the stove in the other corner.

“I promise.”

So I took one last look at that beautiful butt and then pulled up her underwear. Helping her out of the giant poof of a dress required that she get on the ground and I practically yank her out, but we pulled it off.

Afterward, lying on her back on the floor, she grinned at me.

“Thanks.”

I nodded, my eyes running over her body. God, I could just lean over, put my knees beside that heaving chest, my mouth to those parted lips. I could just take her, right here, right now.

“You gonna get the sweats?”

I looked down to see her glaring at me, evidently having read my thoughts.

“Yeah,” I said. “Just enjoying the view.”

When I returned with the pants, she had wriggled herself upright.

“Enjoy less and help more,” she said.

“Yes, princess.”

I patted her cheek and she turned away.

“Hold out your legs,” I said.

As she did so, I slid one leg through one leg hole and then the other through the other leg hole.

She sat up and, looking down, paused. Taking in the insanely too-big sweats, she burst out laughing.

“Perfect fit,” I said, not able to resist cracking up myself.

I tightened the drawstring and then tied it in a bow.

“Thanks,” she said.

“We’re not done yet,” I said.

When I came back with a sweatshirt, Alice was looking at me oddly.

“What?” I asked.

But when my eyes met hers, she looked away.

“Nothing.”

“Okay ‘nothing,’ can you lift your arms so I can get this sweatshirt on?”

She did as instructed, and I slid her arms through one armhole. Then, zipping up the hoodie, I took one look at her half-filled sweatshirt ridiculousness and cracked up again.

Glancing down, Alice soon joined me, both of us on our backs, laughing our heads off.

At one point, Alice rolled against my chest. We both fell silent.

Alice was on her back, looking at me.

“Here,” I said, crawling onto her, my knees around her torso, my hand on her sweatshirt zipper. “I’ll zip this up for you.”

And so, ever so slowly, I did. As our breaths flowed together and our lips neared, I pulled the zipper up and up and up. When it was at the top and I was at her lips, right before they touched, I looked into her eyes.

I froze. There was want there; it was unmistakable. And yet, there was something else too, something that wouldn’t let me continue. There was fear.

“Sorry, sorry,” I said, backing away.

She closed her eyes, and when they opened, there was only accusation in them.

“I expected as much,” she said.

I stood up and leaned down, addressing her defiant face.

“Yeah well, you know your whole ‘you don’t know me’ thing? Guess what, princess—it goes both ways. You have no fucking clue who I am.”

I strode to the door and left.