Chapter 11
Who is this guy?
Heston
I couldn’t sleep after we got home from the hospital.
I’d maxed my credit card out and couldn’t pay for another visit unless Sebastian gave me an advance.
Despite being in hospital a few hours earlier, Dad was sleeping.
One of my work colleagues had given me a baby monitor when he and his husband got a new one and I lay in bed, hands behind my head as I listened to Dad’s breathing.
Having agreed to this mad scheme of Sebastian’s and learned as much as I could about Roy on the internet, I bombarded my step-father with questions.
Is it Roy?
What’s he like?
Where will Dad and I live after the marriage?
My father had to stay with me, even after the operation.
Why is he willing to do this?
I worried the guy was so money and power hungry that he put that above his happiness.
And the last and most important one, I assume this is a marriage in name only and I don’t have to sleep with him.
Being forced to have Roy fuck me would be …
well… prostituting myself. I thought of all the second sons in past centuries who wouldn’t inherit a title, land or any money from their alpha father, and had been forced into an arranged marriage to further the family’s fortunes.
But I was a first and only son and I still inherited nothing.
Sebastian told me to shut up and be grateful he was helping us out of the hole we were in.
While he didn’t say “the one you dug for yourselves” he didn’t need to.
When Father was alive, my step-father viewed Dad and me as leeches, as though we demanded the minimum amount of alimony because we wanted to hurt Father for falling out of love with Dad.
I must have closed my eyes around five a.m. but when the alarm went off an hour later, I couldn’t lift my head. It was so heavy with worry and exhaustion. But the beeping woke Dad, and he shouted out, asking if I was awake.
“Getting up now.” My head hurt as I staggered to the bathroom with one eye open. The shower woke me up, or as awake as I could be after one hour’s sleep. I made Dad a quick breakfast and, putting his phone by the bed, I headed to the café.
Thank gods I’d worked in the coffee shop for a while and I did everything by rote as I made coffee, served customers cakes and muffins and explained how to pay with a QR code.
By the end of my shift, I was drooping—literally.
I could no longer slap on a pretend smile, and I was hunched over as I stood in the back room and removed my apron.
Waving to my colleagues, I made my way out the door and embraced the breeze on my face.
As I couldn’t afford to park close to where I worked, I made my way across the busy road, intending to head to a quieter street a few blocks over.
But a flash of blue in the corner of my eye had me pause.
The vehicle stood out amid minivans, 4-wheel drives and sedans ferrying people back and forth.
It was an expensive, low to the ground sports car, and I wondered what happened when the driver reached a speed bump. They must crawl over it and I winced, thinking of it hitting the bump at speed.
It belonged to that guy, the one who stared at me at the country club.
I convinced myself it had to be him because that car looked as though it belonged in a country club.
And while he may have had legitimate business in this suburban shopping area, he didn’t seem the type to dash into the pharmacy for antacids or the grocery store to pick up tonight’s dinner.
Maybe he was a fan of the bánh mì which was the best I’d eaten, not that I’d had one since Father died.
The car was too far away to see who was in the driver’s seat, so I put on my sunglasses and slowed my pace to a stroll before pausing in front of a shop window. To anyone watching, I was admiring my reflection. Instead, I checked out my stalker to see if he was following.
The car had pulled out of the parking space and was crawling along. But this section of the road was thronged with vehicles and people and other drivers beeped their horns. I should have walked straight ahead for another block, but dashed around the corner and into a convenience store.
The owner was an acquaintance, and he waved as I pressed my face on the glass and waited for the car to zoom straight ahead and out of my life. But he double parked outside the store and I reared away from the window in case he saw me.
What the fuck? Could he smell me or something? I let out a shrill laugh and a customer lining up to pay side-eyed me. As I took out my phone to call 911, the car moved on about fifty yards.
And while I was ecstatic I didn’t have a serial killer on my tail and I jumped up and down and clapped my hands, relief was replaced by disappointment. I tugged at my hair. It must be the lack of sleep making my emotions zigzag like a roller coaster.
I snuck out of the store and swiveled left and right.
Maybe he got bored and put his foot on the accelerator.
I imagined him swigging champagne and laughing with his friends about how he’d pretended to stalk some guy on the street.
It might have been a dare. Rich people got bored easily if Sebastian was an example, though Father was restless if he did nothing and always found a new project.
But as I rounded a corner, there it was, idling just ahead. That had to be a lucky guess. No way did he know where I was going. My heart sped up because this had become a game, one I was determined to win.
I sauntered along the pavement, whistling and twirling my keys but as I reached a motel whose desk clerk slash manager was a friend, I darted across the motel forecourt and into the office, slamming the door and getting on my knees so I could peek through the window.
“Heston? You playing a game of Hide the opposite. I wanted him at my side, drinking coffee and spilling deets about his life.
“I thought I’d lost you.”
Yikes, it sounded like the last line in those late night movies Dad loved and I was tempted to say, “You never had me,” like in the films where the heroes don’t end up together.
“You were at the country club.” I should get home to my dad, but there was something about this guy that I couldn’t look away from and didn’t want to.
“Yes. I saw you. You must enjoy walking.”
Huh? Oh, right, I hadn’t had the car at the club, and now he saw me walking again.
He must think I’m a fitness freak. I snuck a look at his crotch.
Nice. Dad would call that well-endowed. Damn, I wanted to see his cock, feel it nudging my thighs before he slammed into me.
Slick slid down my thighs as I chewed my bottom lip.
“Wanna get a room?” he asked.