Sitting, Santino asked, “Do you want to talk about it here, or should we do it at another time? I heard you’re living with Mr. Crompton, so I can come and visit you there, or we can meet in a more public place. You may feel safer there.”
“Safer?”
“As I said, the gossip mill has been doing its thing. I’m aware you had to take your father’s life to save your own.”
Orsen sucked in a breath, his eyes narrowing. “Do you always come out and say exactly what you want?”
“I could sugarcoat it for you, but I believe you would want me to be honest with you. No lies or hidden agendas.”
Orsen watched him, those intense electric blue eyes glued to Santino’s own chocolate ones. “I think I would like honesty from you.”
“Good, then that’s what you’ll get.” Santino looked at his clasped hands dangling between his legs. “When did you last attend high school?”
Orsen opened his mouth, then slowly closed it. Color flooded his cheeks, and he looked away before mumbling, “I can’t do math or English. That’s why they asked you here. To help me with the money.”
“You agreed to my help, though.”
“I did.” Orsen’s eyes flickered to his, then away. “I can’t do other things either.”
“I’m a forensic accountant. I come in, look at accounts, and follow money trails. See what I can find, so yes, I know numbers.”
“You’re good at numbers, then? And other things?”
“I am. Why do you ask?”
“They think I should go back to school, but I can’t do any of the things the kids can, and I’d be so far behind. I don’t want to go into class with kids younger than me.”
“Depending on how much money there is, you could hire someone to teach you privately. You would have to sit for exams at some point and learn the core subjects. I would have to check state requirements on homeschooling as well to be certain.”
“But I wouldn’t have to sit in class. I could learn at home.”
“You could, yes. If that is something you want to do and have the means to fund it.”
“From what they’ve told me, I do. I don’t know if I want it. They said I have fifty acres too, but I could sell it, then I wouldn’t have him around.”
“Don’t rush to sell. Give yourself time to move on. You’ve suffered more than one trauma, would be my guess, so learn to live first. Figure out what you like and dislike. Go into town and try new foods, wear new clothes. Figure out who Orsen Catlow is.”
Orsen grimaced. “I don’t want his name.”
“Then you can change it. This is your life. You get to live it now. Be the man you want to be.”
“I’m gay,” Orsen whispered, his eyes darting up to meet Santino’s then quickly moving away. “I never told him. He would have hurt me more.”
“I’m gay too.” Santino smiled at the shocked look on Orsen’s face.
“You are? You don’t look gay.”
Santino chuckled. “I wouldn’t think TJ or Cody looked gay either. Some men and women do look gay, and others don’t. We are who we are, regardless.”
“I want to kiss someone.” Orsen’s eyes shot open. “Shit.”
“I won’t tell anyone, and your first time should be with someone who will cherish you.”
“Santino! Orsen! Come and finish your food. I slaved over the grill cooking it.”
Santino stood and held his hand out to Orsen. “I don’t know about you, but I don’t want to be on Cody’s bad side.” Orsen stared at his hand, then gently slid his hand into it and smiled.
That soft touch sizzled along Santino’s arm and he watched Orsen walk ahead of him, his own brow furrowed. Now what did he do with that reaction?
