Spoiled

by Gianni Holmes

  “Callum, you see more than what’s on the outside, don’t you?” he asked, his tone so low I had to cock my ears to hear him. “Because not everything about me is pretty.”

  “Sometimes things are at its most beautiful when they’re ruined.” I stroked the area above his right brow. “Believe me. You are beautiful. Now get back to bed and let me get to work.”

  He kissed the corner of my lips and slid off my lap. He crawled back up the bed, this time giving me a healthy view of his rear end moving away from me.

  Wrong direction.

  I shook my head and sprang off the bed. I needed to get away from him before he made me do something stupid like get into bed with him and focus more on pleasuring him than opening the coffee shop.

  He blew a kiss to me. “See you later, lover.”

  I chuckled at his playfulness. That he’d obviously been through his fair share of challenges, but being able to smile about them spoke of his inner strength. His beauty.

  “Later, Pretty Eyes.”

  His eyes widened, and his cheeks flushed lightly at the endearment. It was true. His eyes were so expressive, even more than he knew. Perhaps if he did, he would’ve worked harder to shield his feelings from me. He was open about his hurt, anger, and all the tender emotions inside him.

  I got out of the apartment like a fire licked at my heels. I ran down the steps and rounded the building of the café, taking the back entrance to enter. Phil had managed on his own. Barely. He’d encouraged me to drag my feet and stay with Ashton, but the look of relief he threw me when I joined him at the counter said he was grateful I hadn’t taken him up on his offer.

  We opened late, and the morning rush was even more hectic than usual. I couldn’t even find the time to think about the boy upstairs. I made coffees, served pastries and fruit cups, and I doodled for those patient enough to wait for their art of the day.

  An hour and a half later, the morning rush started to die down a bit, giving Phil and me a breather between orders. There was still a constant trickle of customers, but now we had time to talk to each other. Phil came over and slapped my shoulder.

  “Thanks for showing up. I wasn’t sure if you would.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean? I have an obligation to the café.” Did he also think that my participation in the café would lessen because of Ash? “Last night is not something I intend to repeat, Phil. He just had some assignments I had to help him with.”

  “You really are into him, aren’t you?”

  “You know I never do anything half-assed.”

  The doorbell chimed, and a group of five women attired smartly in tailored suits entered the café. We spent the next several minutes taking their order while I avoided them flirting with me without trying to be hostile about it.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Ashton

  The five women who lined up at the counter flirted with Callum, and I didn’t like it at all. Well, two out of the five were definitely flirting with him, laying it on thick too.

  That was the first thing I noted when I entered the café. I could hardly ignore them, given they giggled loudly like little girls at the playground trying to attract the attention of the cute new boy in the neighborhood. Their behavior clashed with the high-powered image they posed in their sharp business suits. They were like life-sized professional Barbies who came apart at the first sight of Ken.

  My first instinct was to protest vocally. Callum was my neighborhood, trespassing strictly prohibited. He was my Ken. I actually made a step toward the counter to situate myself in the middle, but at the last minute, I hung back.

  Callum’s body language caught my attention, and for the last two nights, I’d learned how to read the signals his body was giving off. From across the room, it was clear he was not interested. No interpretation was necessary. He smiled politely, listened attentively, but he never once flirted back.

  The nerves that had settled in the pit of my stomach eased up but not fully. Last night Callum had mentioned an open relationship on my part. Had it really been for my benefit?

  From our conversations, I’d gathered he was into both women and men. Maybe I’d never be enough for him, and he’d feel the need to talk about sleeping with different people again.

  It was highly unlikely my feelings about that matter would change. It was even more unlikely that Callum had lied to me last night, though. He was raw, open, and honest. He fit so easily at the café that I couldn’t imagine him in a stuffy suit and briefcase in hand, heading for Wall Street. That image reminded me of my father and brother, who’d both been cutthroat businessmen.

  As usual, the familiar melancholy and guilt rode me whenever I thought of them.

  I hung back until the women left the counter. Then I walked to the counter, the key to Callum’s apartment digging into my palm, gripping the strap on my bag. He must’ve already noticed me because he didn’t react at all when I stopped in front of him.

  “I underestimated you,” he said, one corner of his mouth hitching up attractively.

  “How so?”

  “I thought for sure you were about to make a scene.” He nodded toward the door that swung close behind the women.

  “Thank god I didn’t because I really do know how to make a scene.”

  He shook his head, eyes dancing. “I have no doubt that you do. Leaving?”

  No, I want to stay here all day with you. If only.

  “Yeah, I need to get home so I can change and print these papers since someone is still stuck in the 1970s, before the computer was invented.”

  Callum made a choked sound in his throat, and I frowned.

  “What? Let me guess. The computer was invented before that?”

  “Yup, wrong decade.”

  I rolled my eyes, trying not to let him see how much I wanted to sink into the floor, never to be seen again after making such a ridiculous statement.

  “Oh my god, my papers really suck, don’t they?”

  “No, they don’t. You put a lot of time into them.”

  I snorted. We’d been given two weeks to complete the assignment that I just did in one night. Callum busied his hands, and I stood transfixed, watching his long, capable fingers. These hands had trailed all over my body last night, bringing me pleasure like no other had. These same hands had helped me to correct my papers, brought me a snack to eat, and cleaned me up after sex.

  These hands brought me coffee now and placed the cup on the counter before me. He gave me a wink. “Perks of sleeping with a barista. Free caffeine.”

  Without a word, I darted my eyes from him to the cup with the best pouty lips I could muster. He grabbed the pen he always kept on the counter and scribbled something on the cup. I perked up, handing over his apartment key.

  “Thank you.” I peered at the address he’d written. “What’s this for?”

  “It’s a restaurant that serves Middle Eastern cuisine. Meet me there at eight tonight?”

  A date? I couldn’t smile any more than I already was.

  “I’ll be there.”

  “Good. And, Ash?” I stared at him expectantly, but he glowered to the left at his friend, who was unashamedly listening to the exchange between us. He shook his head at me. “We’ll talk later.”

  I’d had every intention of giving him a pleasant good-bye, return his key, and be on my way. Rue was waiting for me outside. On second thought, I reached forward and kissed him swiftly. He cupped my chin before I could move back.

  “You promise to be a good boy today?” he whispered.

  “Yes, Daddy,” I replied. With a nod, he released me.

  “Good. Now keep your word.”

  Keep your word.

  The words bounced around in my head as I sat in the back seat of the car as Rue drove me home. He kept checking me out in the rearview mirror, but for once, I didn’t feel like spilling every single thing about a guy I’d hooked up with. Probably because the two times Callum and I’d been together, neither had been just a hookup
.

  “You know, this is a pleasant surprise,” Rue commented when he turned in the long driveaway up to the huge house I lived in.

  I studied the structure that consisted of fourteen bedrooms and nearly as many bathrooms. Attached was a six-door garage and a pool house. Framing the house were immaculate lawns and tall pine-looking trees that sat on opposite sides of the house.

  “What is?” I asked, staring at the back of Rue’s head.

  “You spending the night with someone and returning the next morning fully sober, showered, rested, and not at all miserable.”

  “But that’s a good thing, isn’t it?” I marveled at the noticeable change he’d mentioned, and only after two days of being around Callum.

  Regardless of what he wanted to say about changing for myself and not him, he was a motivation. I didn’t want to lose him, and I’d continue doing what he wanted.

  “It’s splendid,” Rue answered. “Maybe this man is really what you needed all along.”

  “I think so.”

  He slowly pulled to a stop at the front of the wide steps leading up to the house. I grabbed my schoolbag, swearing beneath my breath when the bag hit the seat. I’d already destroyed a laptop since the beginning of the school term and two last school year. I didn’t want to buy a new one anytime soon. Way to continue irritating my mother and letting her see me as nothing but her worthless second son who could never fill the shoes the first had departed.

  “Rue, will you be ready to leave in forty-five minutes?” I asked. “I need to change, print these assignments, and then I’ll be right back out.”

  “Assignments, sir?” Rue’s voice had risen with a note of incredulity.

  I didn’t bother to react. Sooner or later, they’d all see that I indeed had changed.

  With a grin and a quick shout that I’d be out soon, I slipped from the car and hurried up to the front door. If I were my mother, I would’ve changed all the locks to keep me out, but my mother wouldn’t. She’d be too concerned with the bad publicity that we’d generate. Billionaire Businesswoman & Philanthropist Kicks Out Gay Son.

  My steps felt lighter than ever. I’d spent more time at Callum’s than I’d planned to, and I had to hurry if I wanted to hand in my assignment “on time.” My bag clutched to my shoulder, I bounded up the stairs and screeched to a halt at the top when I almost knocked down Ava.

  “Master Ashton!” she scolded. “We’ve been worried sick about you.”

  “Truth.” I gave her what I hoped was a reassuring smile. “You were worried about me, not Mother. I think she’d prefer for me to bug off completely so she doesn’t have to put up with me.”

  She swatted at my arm. “Don’t speak that way about your mother. Of course she was worried.”

  “She has a funny way of showing it when I’m around.”

  “That’s because you don’t try to understand her, Ashton,” she said softly. “Please, she has a good heart, and she genuinely cares for you.”

  I thought of all the hurtful things she’d said to me in the past. All the times she’d made me feel like I wasn’t good enough. All the occasions she’d point out how much of a failure I was. That if I didn’t make better choices, I wouldn’t be fit to take over my father’s business, and he’d hand over everything to someone else more suitable for the job.

  I patted Ava’s cheek affectionately. The maid had been more of a mother to me than my own.

  “Our relationship goes both ways, Ava. I don’t have the time to deal with mother right now anyway. I need to get to class.”

  “But you’ll make an effort to talk to your mother?” she asked urgently as I walked away.

  “I can’t make any promises!”

  If my mother and I were in the same room, fighting words were inevitable. I was too much in a happy zone to welcome any sort of argument from my mother right now.

  I slipped into my bedroom and headed straight for the closet. I’d already showered at Callum’s place. The scent of his soap lingered on my skin, but I had no desire to wash it off with my more expensive products from my private bathroom.

  While my laptop powered on, I dressed with enough speed to get my shirt on the wrong way and having to remove and fix it. A few minutes later, I grabbed the laptop and hurried back down the stairs to my father’s office.

  I pushed the door open and came to a stop when I noticed my mother seated in my father’s chair. For a split second, I didn’t see her. Instead, I saw a memory of me at eight or nine, running inside to show Father the butterfly my brother had helped me to catch in a glass jar. Father had paused his work and given me his full attention. He’d loved me and never failed to let me know.

  That was a lot more than I could say for my mother. I couldn’t figure her out. Growing up, I’d been ecstatic at the level of freedom she’d afforded me. Things she’d scold Jake for but never even batting an eyelash at me. It was only later I realized the difference in her attitude toward me. It was almost like she knew I was a disappointment and didn’t see the need to attempt to groom me.

  “Ashton,” she said, her eyes wide. “I hardly expected to see you here.”

  I could just imagine. I’d never entered my father’s office since he died. The demons were numerous in this room. It was in this room that he had tried to explain concepts that seemed so foreign to me until he eventually hired a tutor. It was in this very room that I, at thirteen years old, trembling, confused, and crying, had told him I kissed Patrick Shaw and I liked it. It was in this room I’d learned to accept myself.

  “Mother, I’m just printing an assignment.” I moved toward the desk to do just that. “Don’t worry. You won’t have to put up with me for long.”

  She didn’t respond, and I refused to look at her, not wanting to see whatever fresh condemnation was on her face. I found my documents and connected the computer with the wireless printer. I’d never been so glad to hit Print in my entire life. The printer stirred to life, then spit out the papers into the receiving tray.

  Mother reached the tray before I could and removed the papers. She gave them a cursory glance, then returned her gaze to me.

  “This is an essay,” she said.

  “Yes, it is,” I agreed, holding out my hand to take the papers from her. She didn’t resist, and I easily plucked them from her grasp.

  “Why?”

  “Why what?” Fuck, why is the second document taking so long to print? I jabbed at the Print button again, desperate to escape this conversation.

  “Why are you handing in an assignment?”

  “Because I don’t want to spend all my life in college,” I said as if it wasn’t self-explanatory. “What the hell is wrong with this printer?”

  Her loud sigh filled the room as she got to her feet. Mother walked to the shelf behind her, grabbed a stack of letter-size blank sheets, and moved back to the computer where she fed them into the machine.

  “There.” She all but dusted off her hands. “Your problem is fixed.”

  So stupid. I’d been staring at the printer and hadn’t even noticed the paper tray was empty. That was how frazzled she made me.

  “Thanks.” I removed the four pages that made up the paper, then picked up the stapler on the desk and fastened the edges together.

  “Oh, you don’t have to thank me for that,” she said. “But you might want to thank me for what I’ve done for you.”

  My head snapped up. She had a satisfied look on her face, almost smirking, and I sensed trouble.

  “What did you do?”

  “I know you’ve been struggling in college.” She retook her seat. “I mean, one only has to take a look at the number of courses you failed last semester to see how poorly you’ve been doing. So I decided the least I could do was help.”

  “Help?” I eyed her suspiciously. “I don’t think I need any help at this time. I’m managing just fine.”

  She made a scoffing sound. “I spoke to your professors, Ashton, and given the assignments you haven’t handed in,
you’re about to repeat last semester’s disaster, but never fear. I took matters into my own hand, and I’ve guaranteed that you will pass your exams for this semester.”

  My hands tightened around the papers. I’d worked hard on these essays with Callum last night. I was looking forward to seeing the grade. Now, if she was to be believed, I didn’t need to hand in these papers, and I’d still pass the course.

  “How did you manage to do that?” I was surprised my voice sounded so controlled. My fingers trembled, and the calm exterior was far from the turbulence happening on the inside.

  “Let’s just say I might’ve funded a major research project in your faculty.”

  “You had no right to do that.” I spoke the words softly but with as much venom as I could. “You had no right to interfere, especially when what you’re doing isn’t ethical.”

  “Ethics is a matter of point of view.” She didn’t even bother to give me her attention at this point. She went back to the computer at her desk, her fingers flying over the keys. “Your father would’ve wanted you with a degree attached to your name when—if one day you run this company.”

  “Just so we’re clear, I don’t have to show up at classes. I don’t even have to do my exams, and I’ll still pass this course?”

  “Well, some pretenses will need to continue in order to make everything fair.” She lifted one shoulder. “You need to be present at your final exams so there’s evidence of you taking the exam, although what you put on the paper won’t affect your grade.”

  My throat constricted, my tongue dry at her revelation. All her words told me was that she didn’t think me capable. I stared at the papers in my hands. She likely thought I’d done a shit job on this assignment. That I couldn’t get a good grade without her bribing the college.

  “You ruined everything.”

  Her eyes did flash upward then to me. “You mean I’m fixing all your messes, Ashton.”

  “And you think giving me a free ride through college fixes things?”

  My voice climbed higher with every word until fury pounded on my tongue, making it impossible to hold back.