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I pause and narrow my eyes. “What the fuck are you talking about?”
“Your failed attempts at sneaking around at night and at the crack of dawn. Care to share where you go?”
“Fuck off.”
“Oh? Didn’t know you had the ability to be secretive, dear cousin. My, my. I’m officially intrigued.”
“Un-intrigue yourself.”
“That’s not a word. Hmm. It can’t be your fuck buddies since you didn’t shy away from flaunting them in our faces and disturbing us with your excessive porn shows and extravagant orgies. The fact that they disappeared altogether and you told the guards to kick out your toys whenever they come to the mansion means one thing.”
“Which is?”
“You really do have that ED.”
“Don’t make me flash you in public, because I’ll totally fucking do it.”
“There are a bunch of prudes here, Niko. You’ll end up in jail.”
“Don’t fucking care.”
“If it’s not ED, the only other option is…you went exclusive.”
Fucking Killian and his psycho mind should be banned from existing around me. I’m struggling as it is and barely stopping myself from shouting that “I’m off to fuck my lotus flower” every night and “I’m gonna give my lotus flower a good morning kiss” every day.
It should be blasphemous that I’m expected to keep any sort of secret. I’m a muscles guy who prefers speaking with his fists. Everything else needs to fuck right the fuck off.
I don’t like complicated. I don’tdocomplicated.
Anyone who entrusts me with their secrets is a fool. Bran is a fucking fool. But he believes in my discretion, so I can’t just advertise the whole unorthodox relationship.
Though he’d lose his marbles if I were to call it a relationship.
It’s a situationship.
A deal at best and a whoring contract at worse.
Sometimes, it feels like a relationship. Especially after the fire. He’s started coming to the penthouse more often than not, and the times he can’t, he sends me texts like:
My cousin and brothers are dragging me to this party. If I leave, it’ll be suspicious. I’m sorry. Will I see you tomorrow morning?
The girls invited me to their flat and I can’t make up an excuse this time. Glyn is asking if I’m okay because she’s growing worried, and I don’t want to put that burden on her. I’m really sorry. Can I still see you in the morning?
So yeah, the first time he didn’t come to the penthouse, I ghosted him the next morning as well, but I couldn’t keep doing that when he was apologizing and basically begging me to meet him for our runs.
He’s so fucking adorable. Though I wouldn’t tell him that out loud or it’d freak him out. He gets antsy whenever I treat him gently outside of sex.
It’s like he’s scared of the prospect of us growing closer or something. And yet he’s the one who does my grocery shopping and cooks for me.
I don’t remember what all the fancy dishes are called, and I’m pretty sure I don’t eat them the right way, considering the way he shakes his head in disapproval, but they taste awesome. Which is the whole point behind food, if you ask me.
He’s the one who stays a bit longer every night, as if he’s finding it harder to leave. He comes up with excuses about cleaning up and cooking or finishing the late-night murder mystery, but I know it’s because he loves me and wants to be with me more.
Okay, he doesn’t exactlyloveme. But I’m totally growing on him.
I catch him smiling at my antics, and he does that more now. Smiling, I mean.
He also tolerates my flirting more and replies to my texts in a timely manner. I think he even likes filthy texts now. He’s become a fan of the dick pics as well, though he often tells me to stop sending them.
