Boy in the Club a boy & billionaire novel - Rachel Kane Page 0,96
years older than me. Wait, they came here? Instead of calling? That’s weird.”
He swallows nervously. “I got the feeling they wanted to see me. Like…to check me out. See if I was real. You haven’t told them—”
“About us? God no. I mean…I guess at some point I have to, right? Dalton knows.”
“Dalton knows?”
“Noah told him.”
I don’t expect it when he lets me go, and I feel like I might fall, without his arms around me. “I was a little shocked, but I guess people have to find out eventually.”
He shakes his head. “No, they don’t.”
My laugh is hesitant this time. I don’t understand the worry on his face, the little creases in his brow that make him seem like the weight of a puzzling world is on his shoulders.
I should never have agreed to meet Dalton. I should’ve come straight here after that debacle with Jimi. Instead, all that has happened is that he’s been allowed to sit here and worry for an extra hour.
“You’re going to have to explain that to me, Finn. I don’t get why you look so concerned.”
His hands go up to his face, covering his mouth, like he has just seen the most horrifying thing on earth. “I’m sorry, I don’t mean to overreact, I really don’t. But the thing with Jimi, and now we’re talking about telling people about us… Can I sit down? This feels too real. Do you know what I mean?”
I help him over to the couch, then it’s back to the drinks to pour him something stiff and strong to get him through this. “Here. Sip on this, and tell me what you’re feeling.”
“You sound like a therapist. Well, except for the part where you give me whiskey.”
“Drunk therapy should be a thing. Now talk.”
He shakes his head, and at first I think he means to refuse me, but that’s not it. “I really like you, Colby.”
“I’m glad to hear it. It certainly explains all the sex.”
“No, I’m being serious. I really like you.”
I seat myself next to him. “Finn, surely you know I feel the same way.”
“But you understand we’re from different worlds.”
“What are you saying?”
“I mean, we have to be careful. You can’t… It’s not like you can parade me around to people, right? We’re a secret.”
“We’re going to need more liquor,” I say, rising and bringing the decanter over. I take his glass, refill it, have a swallow of it myself before giving it back. “Why are we a secret?”
“Oh come on, Colby, you have to have thought about this. Do I need to spell it out?”
“Yes. Yes, you do.”
“When your friends Hawk and Daniel left, I kept worrying that they knew about us. I mean, they have to, right? They know we met at the club. How are they going to feel if things progress between you and me? You’re a billionaire, Colby. You can’t date a…a waiter from what’s basically a sex club. I’m nothing. I’m trash.”
“Whoa, now, wait a fucking minute.” Maybe the liquor has loosened me up a little too much, but I feel a flare of anger when he says that. “You are not trash. Where would you get that from? Did Hawk and Daniel say something? I swear to god—”
“No, they were perfect gentlemen. Well, Hawk was. Daniel’s a little…aggressive, is maybe the word. But no. They were fine. But would they be fine, if they really knew what was going on? Because Colby, for god’s sake, you don’t know me, okay?”
“I know you eat the pepperonis off your pizza first, what else is there to know?”
Why am I making jokes? It’s the booze. I can’t seem to keep my tongue under control.
Not just the drinking, though. Ever since I wrote that check, I’ve felt like there was a live wire under my feet, electricity coursing through me, making my muscles jerk and jump.
I feel on the verge of…of something.
He pulls away from me, releases himself from the arm I’ve thrown over his shoulders. He paces over to the window and looks out. “I don’t understand why you’re not taking this seriously.”
“I’m sorry. Rough day, for both of us. But Finn, don’t you ever say you are trash. Don’t you get how valuable you are to me? Don’t you understand how I feel about you?”
Is this a fight? I can’t tell. There’s no reason for us to fight. I’m not mad. Is he mad? Fuck.
“You know, I’m surprised Jimi didn’t tell you my whole sordid history. It’s pretty bad, Colby. Pretty…fucking…bad.