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Eyebrows touching his hairline, Savage looks at me for a long while. “Why?”
“So we can talk. I’m going to be here for ten more months. We can at least be friends, right?”
“I don’t have friends,” he tells me blandly. Michael, Quin, Janet, and Adam are obviously family, so I don’t correct him.
“I do. It’ll be fine. Now get out of here and put on a shirt before I blow you for the hell of it.” He releases another one of those laughs that fills my chest with a foreign feeling and ambles out of my room. I sit on the side of my bed and feel a smile stretching my face. Looks like I have a date.
Chapter Nine
Savage
Janetkeepsgivingmelooks while she’s putting her lasagna in the oven. I know she wants to say something, but I will not coax it out of her. Oh, who am I kidding? I’m in her space, hovering around, making sure she makes dinner perfectly for Abel. I want him happy with dinner tonight so there can be more in the future.
Wringing my hands behind my back, I ask, “Are you sure he even likes lasagna?” I’m not sure. Two months after he’s moved in and I know nothing about his food preferences. He refused to have dinner with me that first night and I didn’t ask again.
She laughs and shakes her head. “It’s what he asked me to cook, Savage. Relax. Dinner will be nice.”
Voicing something that I’m sure no one would expect from me, I ask, “What if he doesn’t like me?” Besides the people that have been with me for years, no one else does. And that’s probably my fault, since I don’t make it easy, but I want Abel to like me. I want him to feel comfortable here and maybe be his friend.
I’m not sure what we’ll do if we can’t get along unless my dick is down his abnormally long throat. Everyone else is so enamored by him. Probably because they don’t have a twenty-foot wall with barbed wire wrapped around it protecting their hearts. It’s easy for everyone here to talk to Abel and for him to like them. It’s me. I’m the holdout.
And I know why. One terrible experience has shaped me when it comes to beautiful boys like Abel. He doesn’t seem to be like Chase, though. Maybe if I talk to him, get to know him, I can see that for myself.
The gentle smile Janet gives me reminds me she is the mother of a young son. It’s so tender and sweet, like she wants me to believe what she says. “Savage,” she starts, walking around the counter to grab one of my sweaty hands. “Give yourself a chance. Stop holding yourself back because you think you have to be a certain way. We all know you. We all like you. So why wouldn’t Abel? Show him what we see, and there’s no chance he won’t like you. Hmm?”
All I can do is nod. I want to believe her, but how can I stop holding myself back? The last time I let myself go didn’t end well. In all honesty, it didn’t start well, but I wanted it, and it was a disaster.
Abel will be home from school in an hour or so, and I have a meeting in town. I head out, hoping that dinner will be nice, like Janet said.
I can’t concentrate at work. I rarely have to attend actual meetings, since my team knows how I like things done. But we’re in the middle of trying to buy a start-up that specializes in medical supplies and distribution. It’s not something I have a lot of experience with, but I figure I can branch out and have my hands in more than one pot. It won’t make us any real money for about five years, but it’s a great investing opportunity that I can’t pass up. But the numbers aren’t really making any sense. As a numbers guy, I need to hear the reps from the company break it down and have our accountants sit in as well to make sure they’re not trying to pull one over on me.
My accountants are taking diligent notes and asking good questions, but all I can think of is Abel bent over my desk, ass an angry shade of red and a blush high on his cheeks. I committed the entire scene to memory so I could think back on it when it’s time for him to leave me.
Right now, it’s inconvenient that I have such a vivid memory. My dick is hard as a rock and I have to fight the groan that wants to escape my throat. And speaking of throats, Abel’s is the best. I’ve never been able to give anyone my whole dick like that. His mouth is always so warm, heating my cock and making my balls tingle.
I’m interrupted from my memories—thank God—by the rep that’s been giving the presentation. “Do you have any questions, Mr. Benavelli?”
Fuck, I wasn’t paying attention. I didn’t hear anything he said past their mission statement and even that I can’t remember. Clearing my throat, I look around at those assembled. They all have expectant but fearful looks in their eyes. Am I that scary? Is it the family name that makes them cower? Or do my scars really make them afraid of me? Those thoughts have my cock deflating, and I’m not sure if I’m more grateful or upset by that.
Shaking my head, I tell the man at the front of the room. “None that I can think of right now. Send me over your portfolio and I’ll take a more in-depth look before I make my decision.” I stand and walk to the door before I stop to turn around. “Thank you for coming,” I force out and my eyes sweep the room. The accountants are staring at me, openmouthed, and the rep looks like he doesn’t know what to say.
He recovers and stutters out a thank you. I nod stiffly and sweep from the room. Quin falls in step beside me, and I close us up in my office.
Maybe Abel was right when he told me off the first day I met him. Self-reflection fucking sucks, but I think I might not be the easiest person to work with, even on my best days. I’m a hard man, but I could have been better with my employees. This is how they make their money. They shouldn’t be unhappy at their place of employment. I’m not sure how to go about fixing it when everyone cowers from me in the hallways. It didn’t bother me before, but I find it does now.
I care about what Abel thinks of me. I don’t want him to think I’m a tyrant and a bully. I glance up at Quin, who’s standing by the door. I’ve told him plenty of times he can sit down and he would still be an effective bodyguard, but he doesn’t listen. He hasn’t listened in years. “I’m having dinner with him tonight.” Quin is the only person I would confide my feelings in freely. Janet drags it out of me, but Quin is the better part of me. He’s able to give me advice or talk me down when necessary. “What should I do?”
“Be you.” Simple, but difficult because I don’t really know who I am anymore.
“How?”
Finally, Quin moves from the door and sits in the chair across from my desk. He clasps his hands in front of him and looks at me deeply, analyzing me in a way only he can. He’s seen me at my worst and knows me in a deep way. His assessment is uncomfortable, but I’m always uncomfortable when someone stares at me. “He’s not Chase, Savage. From what I’ve seen about him, Abel is a good man. He’s funny, smart, sharp,”—he smiles a mischievous smile at me—“and he’s not afraid of you.”
I scoff. “Not everyone is afraid of me.”
Shrugging, Quin stands back up and heads to the door, much to my disappointment. I hate him standing there for hours on end. Maybe I should make it an order and have him sit when we’re in the office like he does when we’re at home. I doubt he’ll listen, but I can try. “Sure, they are. But Abel isn’t. He’ll like who you are. Just show him that.”
Sound advice. I just have to figure out what that really means.
