“No. I don’t like anything enough to have a hobby.”
“Makes sense. I do collect other things, if you look I have a collection of knuckle dusters,” he says casually, pointing to the other end of the cabinet where there are at least thirty or forty knuckle dusters. They’re actually quite cool as I didn’t know you could get different styles.
“They’re cool. Your weapon of choice, I assume?”
“Yes. What's yours?”
“My fists. I like to feel the flesh.”
I look back at the display and my eyes focus on a knuckle duster that looks quite old, it's a scuffed gold plated item with small sharp studs. Ouch. I’d love to see what damage that would cause. I’m so enthralled by the pieces that I don’t hear Carlos move up behind me until I feel the feather touch of his breath on my neck. I’m willing my dick to stay in place.
“Do you like them?” he whispers against my skin. Oh god, get control of yourself, Si.
“Yes.”
His arms wrap around my waist and I can’t take it. I can’t take the affection and I can’t take the fact that he isn’t the asshole I portray him to be. So I become an asshole. Pushing his arms away, I walk over to the door to leave without a word, too scared to speak in case my voice betrays my true feelings.
“I won’t betray your trust, Simon. What you told me, will never leave this apartment. You need to be who you are when you’re ready.”
My shoulders sag in relief, but I already knew he wouldn’t say anything.
“But if you challenge me and flirt with me in public like you did in the club, I won’t hold back. I personally would love everyone to know you’re mine.”
That wakes me up.
“I’m not yours or anyone else's, Carlos.”
He walks over and gives me a chaste kiss on the lips and slaps my ass. I’m too stunned to respond.
“You keep telling yourself that,” he whispers as he leaves me standing in his office like a little prick.
Forget what I said earlier, he is a fucking asshole.
When I get back home, I have to gear myself up to walk inside. As I walk in, there is chatter and movement in the kitchen, which is normal. I walk past the open door slowly, but nothing gets past fucking Aaron.
“Hey, you’re back! Want some breakfast, Simon?” he shouts from the doorway and smirks before going back inside the kitchen.
“Simon, that you? Get in here,” I hear Lev shout, so now I have no fucking choice but to go in.
I feel so uncomfortable. I’m trying to act like I normally act, but it must come across as weird because it's obvious I’m acting. I avoid eye contact with Aaron, just waiting for him to blurt out every thought in his head. Lev is sitting next to him and Seb is standing at the kitchen sink next to Ivan. At least they aren’t all here.
“Where the fuck were you last night? You’re supposed to let us know if you are away for the night. And before you say anything, yes we did fucking call,” Lev scolds me and I only nod in response, while grabbing a glass and filling it with cold orange juice, hoping it will give me the ability to talk.
“Did you fucking hear me?” Lev asks again as I swallow the juice down in one go. Clearing my throat before answering.
“Yeah, sorry, it was a last minute thing. It won’t happen again.”
At this point I notice Dima at the doorway, listening to our conversation.
“What is wrong with you, Si? You’ve been distracted lately, lazy and careless at work. Having an attitude with clients,” Dima says, and in a more concerned way than the heartless Lev.
“He’s got a boyfriend,” Aaron says, breaking the silence. My eyes fly to his in warning.
“Since when?” Lev asks.
“He’s been missing twice now at night, both times he comes back with hickeys and look at his hair? He never has messy hair,” Aaron says with such confidence, I’m completely dumbfounded. How does he pick this shit up?
“I haven’t got a boyfriend,” I say.
