3. Chapter Three
Chapter Three
Aaron
I pace back and forth in the airport as I wait for Chris to text me. I hate having to go home to Seattle, especially since my entire fucking family is there. But that’s what happens when you move away from your asshole parents.
Okay, I’m probably being dramatic, but I guess I sort of get it, you know, with my family owning one of the biggest hotel chains in Seattle, Evermore. Everything to them is about image. About the image we as a family present to the community and to the market as a whole.
My mom’s known I’m gay since I was fourteen.
But my dad—Tony Everett, the founder and CEO of Evermore —I never actually got the chance to tell him I was gay.
He had to find out firsthand when I was getting my dick sucked by our pool boy in the shed when he caught an early flight home for my eighteenth birthday.
Needless to say, it didn’t go well and ever since my love life has been a point of contention for the man.
Dad’s been up my ass ever since then to settle down.
Mostly settle down with a nice woman , which I’ve always refused his attempts to set me up with his board member and stock broker friend’s daughters over the years.
Why am I even going to this stupid party? I wonder, as I chew my lip. I know why, but I don't want to acknowledge it. I don’t even want to think about it because I know the minute I do, I’m going to feel like shit.
I knew this day would come, eventually. The one where Dad will announce his retirement as CEO of the Everett Hospitality Group.
Which is why as badly as I wish I could stay home, I know I can’t.
Everyone will be there, watching, and my presence—or the absence of it—would not look good for the company and it certainly wouldn’t look good for me, considering I want the job.
And whether I like it or not, Mom said he’d be more open to the idea of me taking over if I could show that I was serious about taking on the role—as in I need to show that I’ve put my “playboy days” behind me, and I’m ready to settle down and take on a more adult role in our family.
It pisses me off that they think I’m some eternal bachelor who just fucks around and doesn’t give a shit about anything else.
I’m not stupid, I know what he’s looking for in a CEO. What he’s looking for from me. One man’s ability to run a company shouldn’t be tied to his love life. But to my dad, nothing says serious more than a committed relationship. Marriage. Kids. Picket fences and shit.
As if my being forty-two, living on my own, and operating my own businesses isn’t being an adult, just because I haven’t had a serious relationship in… for fucking ever. Like because I’m not tied down or hosting brunch on Sundays with my partner means I’m not serious.
It’s not like I don’t want a committed relationship. I would love that. Truly.
But it’s kind of hard to have one because the minute people find out who I really am, they change their attitude about me. Money does that, unfortunately.
Even when I’d use fake last names, trying to avoid the disappointment until I knew I could trust someone, it never really changed anything. They wanted to fuck my bank account and not me. And for a while, I was okay with that, but…
I got tired of transactional love. I want to spoil a man, but I want that man to want me and not just my name. Which apparently, I don’t have much to offer outside of that, which is why I gave up looking for an actual relationship.
Sex is easier, and even though I feel like shit afterwards, for a little while, at least it feels good.
All I’ve ever really wanted since I was a kid, was to run the company.
Which is why I have a plan this time—if it’s a show my dad wants, I’ll give him a show.
I’ll play the part he wants, hire some guy to be my perfect man—someone he won’t be able to refuse as good , someone who will play to his fucking requirements— and when Mom and Dad see I’m serious , when they see I am making an effort to be a mature adult or whatever, they’ll loosen the reins and give me the spot I deserve in this company.
I’ll finally have what I want.
Evermore, here I come.
Just as I’m considering turning my ass around and reconsidering my plan to attend this damn event altogether, Chris texts me and I breathe a sigh of relief.
E-Dawg: Got you a date.
He sends a screenshot of one of the profiles of the men from a site called Foxy’s Rent-A-Date. I check out the photo of the guy. He’s definitely not my normal type of guy, but he’s hot. Like, really hot.
Usually I like guys with a little bit of muscle, and I almost always go after guys with dark hair, beards, and bad attitudes. Guys who will put up a fight in bed. I’ve always been a dominant personality, and I like dominant guys who can throw me around, too.
But Jacob doesn’t look like a guy who can throw me around.
He looks like the boy next door who would flirt with you and almost kiss you, just to leave you wanting more.
He looks like the kind of guy who would tell you he doesn’t like to be choked, but who would crumble if you wrapped your hand around his neck and squeezed a little while you kissed him.
My cock twitches in my slacks at the thought.
Well, that’s good. My cock definitely likes what I’m seeing, and I do, too.
Sandy blonde hair and bright blue eyes, his features are a cross between angelic and masculine; sharp but also smooth. But it’s not his eyes or his perfect jawline that pull me in. It’s his mouth. Or more aptly, the smirk he’s giving that lights up his bright eyes. It’s like he’s taunting me.
Make me.
I bite my lip as I imagine those perfect lips framing those words. Imagine him saying those words while he’s on his knees, staring up at me.
I clear my throat as I drop my gaze to his profile stats, not wanting to get too excited.
I am in public after all, and while sex in public is definitely on my bucket list, the last place I want to jack off or come is the damn airport.
There are kids here, for God’s sakes. I do have some morals, despite what my dad seems to think.
Jacob’s profile states he’s bisexual. I bet the women eat this guy up like candy. He looks like Prince Charming for sure.
Me: Nice, thanks for coming through!
Chris texts me back almost immediately.
E-Dawg: No prob, man. He’s a pretty cool guy. I’ve met him a few times because he knows my neighbor.
E-Dawg: This is his # if you need it.
I send Chris a thumbs up just as the stewardess calls my flight.
If he’s met the guy before, at least he can vouch for him.
Though he did say his neighbor knows him, so I have to wonder if that’s in a personal capacity or a professional one.
I guess it doesn’t matter, really. I mean he is a date for hire, so I shouldn’t have any weird feelings.
It’s his job. I’m sure he books lots of dates.
I wonder what kind of dates he goes on, but my thoughts dissipate when I hear the sound of the stewardess calling the next group to board. Shit, I need to move.
Me: Gotta go, boarding now.
Chris sends me back a thumbs up, and I stand, slinging my duffel over my shoulder and grabbing my suitcase, feeling a little better.
I’ve got a date tomorrow night, and with any luck, this plan will work.
All I need is to show up, make my parents believe Prince Charming and I are soulmates long enough to get Dad to reconsider, and then I can go home and relax until he comes to his senses.
And when he does, I’ll accept, and then Prince Charming and I can break up off screen.
I just have to get through this date tomorrow and then it’s off.
That shouldn’t be too hard, right?