The Snow Prince Read Online Raleigh Ruebins

Categories Genre: M-M Romance, Romance Tags Authors:
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Total pages in book: 76
Estimated words: 72897 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 364(@200wpm)___ 292(@250wpm)___ 243(@300wpm)
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Instead I was frozen in place, watching him in awe like I always did. Henry was my best friend, sure. But since he’d told me he was gay, I’d sometimes been so awkward around him I basically forgot how normal human interaction worked.

Even Henry still had no idea I was into guys. I hadn’t admitted it to a soul. There was no way I could.

My entire life was planned out for me already. My mom had a short list of nice girls who I would have my pick of when I was an adult. Girls I would be expected to court, so that I could select and marry the woman who would one day become queen.

It was archaic. It was unfathomable.

And I couldn’t do anything about my massive crush on Henry except stare at him when I thought he wouldn’t see.

“My prince,” he was saying, his voice softer this time as he looked down at me. “My liege. My gorgeous, responsible, goody-two-shoes prince of Frostmonte—”

“Stop,” I said, a flash of hot embarrassment ripping through me. I leaned forward and tackled his torso with my arms, taking him down to the ground and pinning him.

Small snowflakes fell all around us, and Henry laughed as he looked up.

“Got your wish,” he said. “It’s going to snow hard tonight. We’re definitely sledding tomorrow.”

“I don’t want to think about tomorrow,” I said.

I was still on top of him on the ground, his face just inches away from mine. I was holding my breath.

“We don’t have to think about it, then,” he said, his gaze dancing between each of my eyes. “Tonight is ours. The whole world is ours.”

I was either going to lose my mind or kiss him if I had to spend one more second so close to him. I leaned back and lay on the grass at his side, propping my arms behind my head and looking out as the snow fell.

“I know you really don’t want to go to the castle,” he said.

“I’d rather submit myself to torture than go back, yes.”

“So don’t. Run away with me,” he said, scooting over closer to me, so that our arms were touching as we lay on the ground. “We can move to Bora Bora and live on a tugboat.”

I snorted. “A tugboat?”

“I don’t know,” he said. “Fine, a yacht.”

“Sure would be nice,” I muttered.

He let out a long sigh. “I’m going to miss you too,” he said.

“Mom has three ‘eligible young ladies’ lined up to meet me over the holidays,” I said. I turned onto my side and leaned on my elbow, resting my head in my hand as I looked at him. “She’s throwing these elaborate holiday dinner parties. I have to court the girls.”

“What does that even mean? Court them?”

“Show them around the castle. Tell them about my life. Take them to my Dad’s gravestone and talk about how important royalty is, how important Frostmonte is.”

“So that’s what dating in a castle is like,” Henry said. “Gross.”

“I don’t know what dating is like anywhere, let alone in a castle,” I said. “I don’t want to do it.”

“Maybe you’ll have fun,” he said.

“Not gonna happen.”

“Maybe you’ll get to kiss someone,” he said.

“Ew, Henry.”

He puffed out a laugh. “Sebastian, you can’t actually still be grossed out by kissing. We aren’t kids anymore.”

“I’m not grossed out by kissing. I’m grossed out by kissing these poor girls who I know I’m never going to want to marry.”

“Why not? You might like one of them,” he said.

I pulled in a sharp breath. “Not in that way.”

“You don’t know that for sure.”

“Believe me, I do,” I said.

He paused for a moment, searching my face. “How do you know?”

“Stop pushing it,” I said too loudly. My heart was suddenly pounding again, my whole body hot with frustration.

“Sorry,” Henry said softly, holding his hand up to catch snowflakes and watch them melt on his palm. “Just trying to make you feel better about the whole going-back-to-castle-jail thing.”

I swallowed over the tightness in my throat. “I… I don’t think I like girls, Henry,” I said.

I hadn’t planned on making the admission, but it spilled out of me. “At least, I haven’t liked a girl yet,” I said. Maybe I could. I don’t fucking know.”

He furrowed his brow, looking at me. “You don’t?”

“I know I don’t like them as much as I like… you,” I said.

“Well, yeah,” he said. “We’re best friends. Girls are different. Relationships are different.”

“I don’t mean it like that,” I said, my throat dry.

He was staring at me intently now, like there was an electrical current between the two of us.

“How do you mean it, then?” he asked. For the first time in forever, I heard hesitation in his voice. Almost as if he was afraid to ask the question.

Like he might care a lot about how I answered it.


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