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“Do so, and I’ll owe you one—hell, ten.”
We hung up, and Micah muttered a few more curses. “How the fuck have we remained untouchable for so goddamned long, and suddenly this young, greedy fucker thinks he can steal from me?”
Elite had been good until Micah had placed the management of the gay branch into my hands. He hadn’t stated the words, but I felt them. And the stealing from him rather than us?
Cramps stirred once more inside my guts that had already been knifed to death by stress.
Losing Elite meant I would be jobless with a shitty resume that included stocking shelves, waiting tables, and a short stint of trying to sell windows. That sweet feeling I always got in knowing a customer was satisfied in the best way possible would be gone. All those numbers ratcheting up in my bank account. The crisp bills offered in tips. And forget the sense of accomplishment of having done a good deed for someone in need. That sense of…pride I sometimes managed to hang onto for longer than a hot minute.
Pushing to my feet drew a fleeting glance from my brother, but I could tell by his scowl he couldn’t give two shits about what I did or didn’t do in that moment.
“I’m heading home, but I’ll stop by in the morning.”
College classes would take a back seat. No way in hell would I be able to focus on a lecture while waiting for the shit to hit the fan if Zerig wasn’t found and arrested before dropping that discriminating package off to some news outlet.
Micah nodded and picked up his phone, clearly already having forgotten about me.
I let myself out of his mansion’s addition and climbed into my Audi. The engine purred to life, but I took no pleasure in the proof of how far I’d come in a few short years. What did my condo and all the money in my account gain me if I didn’t have Micah’s thankfulness or respect? I felt helping to grow Elite’s gay branch into a thriving business had earned both, so why did Micah dismiss me so damn easily tonight?
I spiraled into my usual insecure funk I thought I’d been clawing my way out of.
Had my brother offered me the job to simply make me quit asking? Fuck knew I was a relentless prick. Pop used to give in to me a lot when I’d been a young, annoying brat. Anything to shut him up, I’d heard our father mutter too many times to count. Manipulation had become an art form for me as a kid—I’d been accused of being spoiled rotten when utilizing those skills for my benefit.
Perhaps Elite’s growth wasn’t my doing…maybe Micah had been working behind the scenes, behind my back, to make it appear I’d been the one to expand his gay branch into something lucrative as fuck.
Stomach bottoming out, I glowered but more pissed than hurt.
My exhausted mind raced in overthinking shit, and I might have taken that aggression out on the streets leading me back to Boston. It had been months since I’d drunk hard liquor, but I bypassed the two bottles of beer still in my fridge for the vodka in the freezer before my tossed keys even landed on the island.
Two shots slid down like water but settled in my stomach like pure poison.
“Fuck,” I muttered with a grimace while pouring a third. I was beyond concerned about the pain burning through my guts. I needed to forget for a while.
My throat tightened, but I swallowed down a third shot. Eyes stinging, I slammed the glass onto the counter. “Can’t fucking do this shit anymore,” I muttered to myself, blinking to keep the tears contained.
Even though my head and body dragged ass and wanted to collapse into oblivion for a few days’ worth of rest, my feet refused to stay still. The type of peace I needed could only be found in one place, and I wasn’t giving him a chance to turn me down.
I showered quickly, cleaning up all my bits with care—just in case.
Three shots atop exhaustion assured me I couldn’t drive, so I called an Uber once ready to roll. My knee bounced the entire ride, my mind racing over insecurities and fears. Old hurts rose to the surface as I remembered time and again our father giving in to my whining so I would be quiet.
I’d thought I was a smart shit back then but recognized how the lack of discipline had crafted me into the spoiled brat most saw me as. Twenty-eight and I was still as selfish as a goddamned toddler, further evidenced by where I headed uninvited and unexpected.
Matteo ought to turn me away since my relentless pursuit disrespected the boundary he’d set between us the week before.
I stood on his stoop, shoulders slumped and heart racing as he pulled open his front door to my knock.
A quick glance past me to make sure no one saw me enter his home and he stepped back, a clear invitation to cross over the threshold. “What are you doing here?”
I stumbled inside, desperation and a little buzz urging my feet. “I just need—” My voice broke, and Matteo cursed quietly, locking the door behind me. I couldn’t see through the welling of tears I fought to hold back.
Strong fingers wrapped around mine, and I followed him like a little lost puppy, desperate for direction. The other half of me wanted to act up and be disciplined until I learned my lesson, but I had no energy to do more than go where he led.
Need so far beyond sexual desire prompted my actions, and I was powerless to choose otherwise.
“I told myself I wouldn’t do this,” Matteo murmured to himself while hesitating inside the living room, eyeing his recliner. He released a shuddered exhale and bypassed the chair for the couch. Releasing my hand, he sat. “Kneel for me, Sean.”
My dick perked up at his low tone, and I sank onto the hard floor beside him, wrapping my arms around his sweats-covered calf without hesitation. I clung to his leg like he was a buoy in an angry ocean.
