4. Beau

Chapter 4

Beau

Waking up in my own house is something I don't think I will ever get over. It'll be even better when I'm all packed, and the decor is this century.

Today is all about unpacking at least one box for each room - Some rooms only have one box, so I guess that is a win - and making sure the bees are all settled. Then maybe tonight a beer, pizza, and googling how to start a business. I'm funding it myself, so I won't need a plan…I don't think. Maybe I'll do some research over breakfast?

I throw on a pair of grey sweats, a purple t-shirt and head downstairs. Thank fuck I had the foresight to order some groceries last night. Bacon, eggs, hash browns, and toast is the breakfast of champions. Or of the recently relocated.

An hour and three coffees later and my belly may be full, but my brain hurts. I am way over my fucking head. Marketing, regulations, stock, newsletters, tax. So much tax. So many different taxes. Shit.

How am I going to be able to figure this out?

I know I've had things kind of easy my whole life. Other than the dead dad thing, I've not had any trauma. I was an athletic, average student in high school, got a sports science degree because I had the privilege to study what I wanted instead of worrying if I needed to make a career out of it. I inherited a house at twenty-five, and I have enough money that if I live really frugally, I will be able to live off of it for the rest of my life. Being gay wasn't an issue because my mom raised me not assuming my sexuality, so I never had to question anything.

I assumed starting a business would be just as easy as everything else has been.

I look at the fifty seven tabs I have open.

This shit is not easy.

I slam my poor laptop shut, and run my hands through my hair. This isn't for now. I am going to go check the hives and then do some unpacking. The business mess will be there tomorrow.

I slip on my sliders and head out the unlocked backdoor. I should really remember to lock that in future.

As I get closer, I see that they are calm and happy, so I don't bother suiting up. If I hadn't been around bees my entire life, I never would have approached six newly settled hives.

They all look good.

I hear a gasp from behind me. "Holy shit." I turn and see a wide eyed Perry looking pass me at the hives.

They really are impressive.

"You like my girls?" I say, drawing his attention to me. I watch as his eyes slowly travel over me and I try not to smirk when he realizes he's been caught out.

"Girls? Bees are all female?" He asks.

"The worker bees and the queen are female, the drones are male. I named the hives after pop queens, so I just generally refer to them all as my girls."

Perry lets loose a smile that could bring men to their knees. It's the smile you imagine people talk about when they say a loved one lights up any room they enter.

"I have to know their names now."

"Starting from the left we have Madonna, then Rihanna, Britney, Gaga, Whitney, and Shakira."

"I love all of this so much. I have one question, though."

"Shoot."

"No Beyonce? What would her Bey-hive say?"

There is a flirty little gleam in his eyes.

"My first ever hive was named after her."

"How long have you kept bees?"

"Since I was in high school. I saw a photo online of a bumblebee asleep in a flower, thought it was cute and it bloomed from there. My mom bought me my first hive for my fifteenth birthday."

Perry's smile turns soft. "She sounds lovely."

Shit.

Nice one Beau. Talk about your mom doing something nice for you to a guy who has mom trauma.

"Beau, please stop," Perry sighs, before straightening up and piercing me with his pretty hazel eyes. "Just because my relationship with my mother is not ideal, doesn't mean you have to tiptoe around me. I'm not breakable. I'm not going to be sad that you have a good mom. Envious, maybe a little, but that isn't a negative thing, and it's not your job to manage my emotions. Got it?"

"I got it," I reply. My lips curl up in a smile.

Bossy Perry is hot.

Granted, our two previous meetings weren't conventional, but I'd bet my hives that this bossy, put together version of Perry is the one he likes the world to see.

"Now, tell me more about your mom."

"She is incredible. She's an artist, and she loves penguins, even though she's never seen one in real life. She is aggressively supportive in all the things. She found out my uncle Lou had joined a local hockey beer league and we drove through the night so he would have family there for his first game. She has been encouraging me to start the bee business that I've been thinking about for years. Not that it looks like it's ever going to happen. Making honey, candles, soap, I can do. Running a business. Not so much. I don't think I have the brains for it."

Perry is looking at me wide eyed and jaw slack.

I can't tell if his shock is from how cool my mom is or how stupid I am, but I really want to stick my dick in his mouth.

"First of all; your mom is amazing and I wish that her favorite shampoo is always on offer and never out of stock." Perry starts.

That's a bit weird, but sweet. "Thanks, I-"

"Second of all," he carries on like I never said anything. "I can totally help you start a business."

He beams at me like he's just solved world peace, and it is too fucking cute.

"I-,"

What? What do I say to this very attractive guy who is offering me help? This very attractive college guy. Shit, what if he's a teenager?

"How old are you?" I blurt out.

Okay, well, I definitely shouldn't have just blurted that.

"I'm twenty-one," he replies, folding his arms. "Why?"

Do not say because I'm attracted to you.

"I-I just, um, I alcohol?" I stammer out.

Perry cocks an eyebrow. "I'm going to need a translation."

"I'm planning on maybe making some honey flavored liquer so I needed to check your age to make sure I won't break any laws."

Perry's eyebrows knit together. "I think as long as someone under twenty-one isn't physically selling the alcohol, you don't have to worry about ages."

"Oh, cool. That's good information to know." I sound like a fucking dork. "What did you mean by help me start a business?"

Perry raises an eyebrow and smiles at me slowly. It's a move that looks well practiced and it hits me straight in the groin.

With all the confidence in world he says, "I mean, I am about to be your silver angel."