Chapter Five
Rhys
Max jumps into the bathroom and slams the door shut. It’s like I’m a grenade with its pin pulled and the bathroom is a bunker. What’s that about? Does she think I’m like Dad? That I’ll try to seduce her because we have to share a room?
My eyebrows snap together in displeasure.
My parents ruined so many things. A normal childhood simply isn’t possible when your folks are in an open marriage and all their escapades make the gossip rags.
Super awkward to get asked in school by other kids why your father has four girlfriends when he’s married, and it just got worse as the years went by.
The only positive thing about my parents’ lifestyle is my brothers. I would die for them, no questions asked.
I pick up my phone, which is buzzing again, then settle comfortably against the headboard. There’s no way this bed is king size. I have one in my house, and it’s much bigger than this.
–Finn: I just knew Pete would be difficult!
–Me: Let him threaten.
–Finn: He knows he isn’t big enough for us to care, so he’s trying to convince some of the other investors to join him and pull out early together.
–Gideon: Sounds like a premature ejaculation orgy.
I snort-laugh.
–Liam: That asshole. You made him so much damn money.
My heart warms at my youngest bro’s defense. Liam is nothing if not loyal.
–Roarke: It’s ridiculous. It isn’t like some fake scandal makes you less capable of making them richer.
I nod, happy to have my brothers on my side. Still, it’s annoying that Pete’s being a dick. The problem with Pete isn’t Pete, but the people he’s close to. He’s a complete sycophant and overly well connected. So…annoying.
Soft, discreet knocks come from the door. I head over to check. A uniformed hotel concierge smiles. “The extra bedding you requested, sir.”
I start to tell him I didn’t ask for it, then decide it might be for Max. She tends to get cold easily. She acted like London was freezing, and Japan’s probably not much warmer, especially at night. “Thank you.”
He smiles and places them on the bench at the foot of the bed. “Do you need anything else, sir?”
I shake my head, and he leaves. I turn my attention back to my phone as another text pops up. My intestine knots: Czarina, the nickname my brothers and I gave our grandmother.
–Czarina: We need to talk about what’s being reported. It isn’t seemly.
Is anything seemly to Grandmother? The Mother Abbess from The Sound of Music is more laid-back than my grandmother, but that nun didn’t have a son like my father, much less one who married a woman like my mother.
–Czarina: Why are you ignoring my messages?
–Czarina: Did you block me?
–Czarina: It’s improper to block your grandmother.
Not answering. If I do, she won’t stop. And right now I just don’t have the energy.
–Finn: Why does Czarina want to know if you forgot your phone?
–Gideon: Lol. She wants me to hack into your phone and unblock her.
Just like her to ping Gideon, since he’s into tech. Except he’s an angel investor who likes to fund promising startups, not a programmer or hacker. But to our grandmother, they’re all the same thing.
–Me: I didn’t forget my phone—obviously. I’m just ignoring her.
–Xavier: Not the best idea. She’s going to make you pay.
–Silas: Not if he takes care of the problem first. Sue the woman for defamation.
–Me: I already have Jeremiah working on it.
My brothers send a bunch of emojis showing approval.
A partner from Huxley & Webber, Jeremiah Huxley is one of the scariest legal sharks on the planet, and probably more of a parent to me and my brothers than our own parents.
Every time somebody needed to talk to our parents, they were referred to her.
“Whatever you do, don’t get caught. But if you do, call Jeremiah,” Mom and Dad told us since we were old enough to understand.
–Xavier: As much as I admire her way of dealing with this sort of mess, it’ll work better if you have a girlfriend or fiancée.
–Silas: Somebody steady and nice. Presentable. Like Max.
My mouth flattens. There wasn’t even an instant of hesitation when she turned me down. What if she were single? Would she have given it more consideration? Or would she still find me not worth the effort? Would I be able to offer anything that would make it worth her while?
She might think that I just don’t know how to be a boyfriend.
It’s no secret I haven’t had a serious girlfriend in years.
Not that I live like a monk—it’s just that I never bothered to invest in relationships.
There’s no point when they just fizzle out and end for reasons that have nothing to do with me.
–Me: Already asked her. She turned me down. There’s a boyfriend. The kissy kind.
–Liam: Don’t you normally kiss boyfriends?
–Me: Wouldn’t know. Never had one.
–Finn: You know, I heard that there’s some kind of festival or something going on in Tokyo. Maybe you can take her there to thank her for all the travel and overtime.
The suggestion’s very much like Finn. He prefers to reward his assistant periodically with gifts geared toward experience, like restaurant vouchers or a stay at some quaint Napa bed-and-breakfast.
–Me: Not sure if she’ll be in the mood to spend more time together. We’re stuck in the same room.
–Gideon: No way. I thought you said she has a “kissy” kind of boyfriend.
–Me: The hotel messed up the reservation.
–Roarke: Does this mean something’s going to happen between the two of you? I actually think she likes you.
I scoff, even as an uncomfortable sensation burns in my gut. He’s so mistaken.
–Me: Are you drunk?
–Roarke: It’s early morning here.
–Liam: How about Selena? She’s single again.
Oh God, not Selena. My ex from my twenties. We had a lot in common, and our relationship seemed to be heading toward marriage. But it crashed and burned once she witnessed the chaos called Auric and Elita Kingswood.
Couldn’t blame her. Dad’s new chick greeted her topless, and Mom’s boytoy of the week gave her a full frontal. He was still erect and grinned like a dog proud of a new trick it’d just mastered, like getting an erection in his twenties was something to be arrogant about.
At least my parents were barely covered. But they couldn’t fathom why any of it was problematic. As far as they were concerned, Selena should’ve been more open-minded. Their hors du jour were good looking—she should be happy to have seen something that nice for free.
We didn’t last long after that. At least she was honest about why she wanted to break up.
My brothers don’t know the exact details because they were busy with school and getting started in their careers at the time.
They only learned that I got dumped and moped around for a few months afterward.
Since then, I’ve never dated seriously. They’re convinced it’s because I still have feelings for Selena. I’ve never corrected them.
–Roarke: Single? How do you know?
–Liam: I saw her husband coming in to buy a new engagement ring. Pretty sure it wasn’t for Selena.
Liam’s in the lab diamond business, fully integrated from stone creation to retail sales. His clients range from regular Joes to moneyed celebrities. The former want value, and the latter want to avoid supporting conflict diamonds.
–Gideon: Guess the hubby wasn’t as good as she imagined.
A complete cynic, Gideon didn’t care for the way things broke down. He thought Selena was mercenary because she married some slick venture capitalist from Silicon Valley whose net worth at that time was triple mine. But I understood where she was coming from.
–Me: Don’t be mean. She had every reason to dump me.
–Xavier: Cheer up. You’re in the same room as Max. It’s a first step. I think Roarke is right about her. She likes you. She can’t take her eyes off you.
–Me: It’s her job to watch me and learn. And we’re responsible adults with firm boundaries.
Even as I type it, I can’t decide if the feeling in my gut is resolve or something less noble. Like disappointment.
Max respects my abilities. But that might be where things stand.
She’s a little hard to read with her smart mouth and sarcasm.
At the same time, even if she liked me, if she really got to spend more time with me, that might change.
People sometimes think that if you just will it, you can affect someone’s feelings.
But certain things are beyond changing, like your parents’ inappropriate behavior.
The second my phone lands on the nightstand, the bathroom door opens, and Max slips out. I’ve always seen her decked out in perfect makeup, impeccable hair and the most professional outfits, looking dangerously attractive. But this is a whole new level of hot.
A drawstring pulled together and tied into a bow holds up purple cotton bottoms with pink, fire-breathing cartoon dragons.
Totally cute, but very Max, roars paired with pretty femininity.
But what she has on top is criminal. Two straps as thin as angel hair pasta hold up tiny scraps of triangular pink fabric over her breasts, showing way too much creamy skin, including the glorious cleavage a man could lose himself in.
The top ends right below her belly button, giving a peek of her beautifully soft stomach.
Is she ticklish? I’ve never tried to find out, but suddenly curiosity is killing me.
Her straight copper hair is slightly damp and hangs loosely around her slender shoulders.
Not a trace of makeup on her face, but it looks all the prettier for it, natural and kissable.
Jesus, she has freckles across the bridge of her nose.
That’s just— Heat flares in my belly. She smells faintly of lavender and the oatmeal soap provided by the hotel.
A dangerous spark ignites in my gut.
“So. Uh. Did the hotel bring any extra bedding?” She bites her lip, which suddenly makes me want to suck it.
But I keep my face calm and point my chin at the bench. “There.”
“Oh, good.” She sighs, then grabs a thick blanket and lays it on the floor.
“What are you doing?”
“Getting ready for bed.” She gets on her hands and knees and beats the blanket, either to fluff it up or vent her frustration.
Hard to say based on the vigor alone. From this angle, I can see her ass clearly.
Either her pajama pants are made of fairly thick cotton or she isn’t wearing panties. Her boobs swing with each motion.
If I were a gentleman, I might say something.
Or at least look away. But my eyes are glued to her.
The suite feels too stuffy all of a sudden.
I start to tug at my neck, until I realize I’m not wearing a tie.
I adjust my glasses. “I’m not a total bastard.
I can scooch over and we can share the bed.
” I stretch my arm and pat the other side.
“Thanks, but there’s no way we can both sleep on that ‘king’ bed.” She makes air quotes. “That’s, at best, a queen. There isn’t even enough room to put a pillow border between us.”
“Pillow border?”
“To ensure we don’t cross the line.” She stands on the blanket, her hands on her hips like a boss and her eyes on mine.
Her top is super thin and showing the outline of her nipples perfectly. It’s really hard to focus on her words.
“Don’t you agree?” she prompts me.
“Of course.” I nod, although I have no idea what she just said.
“And I wouldn’t feel comfortable asking you to take the floor, given your seniority.”
It takes me a beat to process. The heat in my blood cools. “I’m not old,” I grind out between clenched teeth.
She shrugs. “We’re all young at heart.” She stretches out on the floor and pulls the sheet up. “Good night.”
I should really offer her the bed. But I don’t, stinging at her jab about my age because it’s partially true. I’m thirty-seven. Probably feels ancient to a twenty-four-year-old. But damn it, I work out and my hairline hasn’t receded a bit.
I stomp on my irritation. Her cheery good night probably means maybe she’s okay with the floor. That blanket’s thick.
Let her non-seniority-having joints take the abuse.
After placing my glasses on my phone, I hit a button on the room control to turn off all the lights and glare into the darkness.
Seniority, my ass. I’m definitely kicking her out if she snores.
I can’t sleep when people are around because they make noise.
Worse yet, they sometimes cling. The biggest reason Selena and I got along well was that she slept quietly and didn’t move.
The first time it happened, I thought she’d died and had to stare at her chest to make sure it was moving.
It sounds petty, but a lack of sleep is a bitch. Nothing kills love like insomnia.
Some time passes, and Max’s breathing slows. For some reason, the sound soothes my frazzled nerves.
Still, my skin feels tight. I can’t seem to get comfortable. I grab a pillow and hug it, wishing it were warmer and smelled like oatmeal and lavender.