Spending the day cleaning with Charlie proves to be more difficult than I expected, mostly because my balls ache like a motherfucker from watching that sweet little ass bending over constantly.

But more than that, the girl is quick, and not just her snarky little comments meant to keep me at arm’s length. She’s smart. And funny. And by the time we’re putting the cleaning supplies back in the supply closet I’m starting to wonder if this isn’t just about the conquest. If maybe it’s more. More than I’m willing to consider right now.

“So, Charming,” she says as she locks up. “You survived a day with the commoners.”

I grunt. “You act like I’ve never worked before.”

“Have you? I figure someone like you has a cushiony trust fund he can tap into whenever he needs a new Rolex or—”

I spin her around, hands on her waist, and pull her toward me. “You like to put people in boxes.”

“Doesn’t everyone?” Her palms are on my chest, ready to push me away, but she doesn’t. “Honestly, Spencer. What do you see when you look at me? A scholarship student from a blue collar family, who’ll never belong in your world.”

“Last I checked, there’s only one world we live in. And those are just things, Charlie. Money—”

“Or lack of.”

I chuckle. “Sure. But it doesn’t make us who we are.”

“So you’re saying you wouldn’t care if you woke up tomorrow and were broke.”

“I didn’t say that.”

She laughs. “Right.”

“So you don’t like rich people.” My arms are still around her, and there’s no way I’m moving unless she pushes me away.

“No, it’s not that...” She chews on her bottom lip and frowns.

“Then what? You’re here at Princeton. One of the top schools in the country. When you graduate, you can’t tell me you won’t jump at the chance to make some good coin.”

“Of course not, but I want to make money so I can...” She starts to pull away.

“Not so fast.” I spread my fingers at her lower back and feel her shiver against me. “Tell me.”

“You have money, so you don’t have to worry about getting sick, paying for bills, watching people you love suffer...”

“Hate to break it to you, but being rich doesn’t mean we don’t get sick.”

“See. That right there. You don’t get it. Sure, you get sick, but you go to the top hospitals, have the best doctors. You don’t have to worry about re-mortgaging your house to pay for life-saving treatments.”

I frown down at her. “You have someone who’s sick?”

She hesitates before answering. “My mom. She was diagnosed with Multiple Sclerosis when I was nine. It wasn’t bad at first, but...”

“I’m sorry.” I cup her jaw, seeing the pain in her eyes, and hell if I don’t want to take it away.

“It’s been hard watching her lose her ability to do the things she once did. And my dad, God, he works so hard, trying to take care of her, and working to pay the bills. It’s just not fair. How some people can have so much, and others...” She swipes her fingers under her eyes. “I’m not sure why I told you that.”

“Because I asked.” I press my lips against her forehead. “I want to know about you.”

She grunts. “Why? So you can feel better about yourself—”

“There’s that chip again.”

She shrugs. “Maybe. But it’s who I am. I have to work hard just to keep my head above water. That’s why I need this job, why I needed that waitressing job.”

“I won’t make the mistake of offering you money again. But...” I grin down at her, hoping to lighten the mood. “I can see about getting you a job at The Blue Point Grill. The owner owes me a favor.”

“I don’t need your help—”

“You kind of do. And since I’m the one responsible for screwing up your other gig, I’d like to do something.”

Her lips pinch together, and I can practically see the wheels turning in her head.

“You don’t owe me anything,” I say, getting the feeling that’s what she’s worried about.

She sighs. “I’ll find my own job.”

I want to argue with her, but I know it’s pointless. Instead, I change the subject. “So, how about that date?”

She glances down at her baggy sweater and jeans. “I’m not really dressed to go out. I should go back to the dorm and change.”

“Or you can come back to my place and I’ll order Chinese.”

“Your place, huh?” Her lips purse again, and I can see her mulling over the option. “I guess I wouldn’t mind seeing where royalty lives. Is there a drawbridge and moat?”

I chuckle. “Hardly. But every once in a while a fire-breathing dragon comes by.”

“Really?” A smile lights up her face.

“I’m serious. You haven’t met my mother yet. But you’ll understand when you do.”

She tenses slightly, and I wonder if I’ve gone too far. The words slipped out. But I know they didn’t come from nowhere. I took enough psych classes in undergrad to know the subconscious is more powerful than we give it credit for. And I’m pretty sure mine has marked this girl...and not just for a quick fling.

It’s scary as hell, but even though I feel like I’m barrelling down a hill in a cart with no brakes, I’m enjoying the fucking ride, and I don’t want it to stop.