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Monday, December 18
Simon’s bedroom
The Gold Coast
He knew he should get into bed and try to sleep, but Simon couldn’t bring himself to lie down on his bed and close his eyes. All he’d be able to see was the look on Ben’s face. It had been sad and confused, but also angry. All because of what Simon had said to him. And had Simon backed down at all, seeing Ben wasn’t in any kind of headspace to hear Simon’s offer? No, he had instead doubled down. Simon had successfully negotiated countless deals over the years he’d been CEO of Prince Industries and today he’d failed completely against a boy twenty years younger than him.
Restlessly, Simon walked through his bedroom, seeking something to take his mind off how badly everything with Ben had gone. He lit a fire in his fireplace, using the wood, kindling and matches that were always on hand, even if he rarely used them. When the fire had caught nicely, Simon sat down in one of the chairs by the fireplace and stared at the dancing, flickering flame.
It occurred to him that Ben was like the fire, beautiful and warm just as hard to hold onto.
It also occurred to him that he’d ruined things with Ben irreparably.
A knock sounded on his door. Simon hadn’t looked at his phone for hours. Hudson was probably checking in for proof of life.
He said, “Come in. There’s absolutely no sex going on in here,” without looking up from the fire.
“You realize that sounds like there is sex going on in here, right?”
Simon’s eyes flew up to see not the expected Hudson, but Ben. His hair was tousled and he wore the cashmere robe Simon had picked out for him. It was a camel brown, a shade or two lighter than Ben’s hair, and he looked perfect wearing it. Simon felt an unfamiliar surge of possessiveness seeing Ben in the clothing he’d purchased, like the twentieth-century equivalent of hunting an animal and bringing it back to his mate, he supposed.
“Well, it’s not, trust me.” Simon winced. That sounded childish as hell. “Sorry. I didn’t mean that.”
Ben’s lips quirked. “I think you did, but that’s okay. I came because I need to make sure you understand something. I’m not taking your money, Simon. Not if I stay and definitely not if I leave. I don’t want it. But I do want something.”
“Yes? Whatever it is, it’s yours, I promise.”
The young man laughed, low and soft and exquisitely sexy. “Good, because what I want is you. Just you. Not you and all the things you can buy me.”
Simon felt a little like he’d been kicked in the chest. “Just me?” He couldn’t make sense of it. Why on earth would this beautiful boy be interested in just him? “I’m not much of a prize, stripped of everything but myself.”
“I think you’d be surprised. Remember I used to daydream about you, Simon. I’d see you come in to work every morning and I’d spin these fairy tales in my head of you one day turning to see me there and picking me out of all the people in the entire world. Like I was a prince in disguise and only you could see that. And you’d whisk me away to your castle by the sea, which of course would be a mansion on the lake, and I’d be warm and safe and happy forever.”
Simon was confused. “I tried to give you that and you got upset at me.”
Ben shook his head. “My dreams were just that. They were neverreal.In real life you ‘rescuing’ me and then carrying me away would be taking me from one terrible situation to another. Simon, I could never know I was truly safe, or home, or secure. And if I left and took your money, that would make me a whore. And while there shouldn’t be shame in that, there still is. Because it would be you making me into a whore, not my choice of surviving however I could. Can’t you see that?”
He couldn’t answer Ben. Not in a way that was both honest and something Ben wanted to hear. He wanted to shout at Ben that he wanted to set Ben free and give him security untied to Simon himself, but he didn’t think it would do anything other than upset Ben again, which was the last thing he wanted to do.
A note of impatience crept into Ben’s tone. “I know you probably don’t understand what I’m saying or why I won’t take your money. Not completely. You’ve never been caught like an animal in a trap, willing to even chew your leg off to escape. I don’t care if the trap you catch me with is humane and how the cage you stick me in is warm and plush, with lots of food. I’m still not free. I’m still trapped. I wish you could understand that.”
Simon laughed bitterly. “You probably won’t believe this, Benny, but I know what it’s like to feel trapped and I would do—have done—anything to escape it. All I’ve managed to do is upset my mother and put off my imprisonment for an unknowable and uncertain amount of time. Don’t tell me I can’t understand what it means to be trapped.” Simon hadn’t meant to say all that, but it had come tumbling out anyway.
Ben looked alarmed. He ventured closer to where Simon sat, close enough for his cashmere robe to brush the silk of Simon’s sleep pants. “How?” he asked.
“It’s not something you can see and it’s not something I talk about. Can you imagine? ‘I’m Simon Prince, nice to meet you, I’ll probably be dead by fifty.’”
“What?” Ben exclaimed.
“See?” Simon said with a smile he didn’t mean. “It makes for some awkward conversation.” He sighed. “Take my money and help or don’t, Ben. I tried to do something good and failed. You’re right. There are things money can’t fix.”
Ben reached down and grabbed the lapels of Simon’s robe. “Explain,” he demanded. It was funny how sweet, shy Ben could sometimes show that he had teeth. “Tell me why you think you’re going to die.”
“We’re all going to die, Benny. I came to terms with that when I was younger than you.”
Ben swatted Simon’s shoulder like he was in trouble. Bad billionaire. No cookie for you. “Stop that,” Ben said hotly. “You know what I mean. I told you my secrets. The least you can do is tell me yours.”
He smiled at Ben’s feistiness, finding it far more charming than intimidating. Not that he’d tell Ben that. “Only if you stop towering over me. Please sit down.”
