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9
ARLO
I siton my soft bed in Constantine's guest room, cuddling Mr. Green, staring out the window.
The bedsheets are like satin on my body, and I take a deep breath as I try to process the events of this morning.
Good. Lord. Constantine isn't merely a billionaire.
He's asavvynegotiator.
Like any negotiator worth his salt, Constantine knew exactly how to convince me he wasn't extending charity to me.
I roll over on my bed, burrowing into the fluffy blankets. I'm tired from last night, so I stick my head underneath my pillow as I think.
My conversation with Constantine this morning nearly killed me. It wasbad. There I was, having the time of my life eating waffles, when, before I knew it, my rubber band snapped.
It stung. Like a bitch. I ran to the bathroom so I could grab a fresh one from the bag I always keep in my pocket and slide a new one on my hooks.
I didn't anticipate braces complications in front of Constantine, and it mortified me because I was sure he thought I was such a baby. But truth be told, I'm not sure that's what Constantine thought at all.
Warmth blooms in my chest as I picture the wonderful way Constantine comforted me. As I wiped my tears away in the bathroom, he encouraged me to head back to the breakfast table. He told me there was nothing to be ashamed about, that there was nothing wrong with my braces, and that he even thought they were cute.
Cute. That's a word I've never associated with my stupid adult braces. I think they make me look like a broke geek, a boy who can't afford life's necessities.
But Constantine cast my worries aside. He invited me to sit on his lap and spent the rest of the morning comforting me. He got me to open up about myself, which is something I didn't expect.
I've never told anyone that story about Mama.
I mean, come on. My mother was strung out on heroin and injecting needles into her arm my entire childhood. The one reaction I get is sympathy, and Lord knows I don't need more of that.
But Constantine didn't patronize me at all. He empathized with my upbringing, and made me feel comfortable enough to confide in him. He praised my mother for doing what she could, and didn't blame her for her addiction. It was the sweetest, most Daddy-like thing. It made me think he has experience with addiction in his family, too.
It fucking sucks that drugs take hold of people we love in this world, but at least some individuals know it's not always the addict's fault. Drugs lure people in, and our government agencies fail to police the import sites, thus guaranteeing Americans a constant supply.
That's not all. Constantine did something else, too. He didn't stop there.
After Constantine reassured me about my braces, he extended his promise from last night. I already knew Constantine wanted to be my Daddy during this trial run, but I didn't expect him to want to introduce me to his family.
I replay his words in my mind like a cassette tape.
"I need to bring a fake date to his wedding. You'll accompany me."
"Sweet Jesus." My cheeks flush pink as I let out a groan. "This is proof billionaires are insane. No one in their right mind would want to introducemeto their family."
It's thewayConstantine wants to induce me to his family that cracks me up the most. A fake relationship. After breakfast, Constantine told me a little more about how he's sick of his family judging him for his breakup, and he's betting the house his brothers will believe we're dating. It's fucking crazy, because I'm sure Constantine could ask anyone he wants to join this scheme. There's no reason he should pick a lowly boy like me.
Unless he's attracted to me.
Which boggles the fucking mind.
Peeling back my blanket, I tug my shirt up and look at my body. I furrow my brow as I work my palm down my belly, touching my skin. I certainly don'tfeelattractive. I look like every broke boy in Queens or Harlem struggling to fend for themselves in a brutal world. With my undernourishment, I barely look eighteen. Any athletic boy from my graduating class is sexier than me.
But as I study my petite body and smooth skin and peel back my green undies, I realize something profound about myself. This is the first time I've ever considered that I might be attractive to another man.
This morning, on his lap, Constantine made me feel sexy. He didn't mention it, but I felt the hard outline of his cock pressed against my ass when he wrapped his arm around me.
It happened last night, too. When we snuggled, his thick rod rammed against my waist. I pretended to ignore it, but my body burned knowing I aroused him.
