14. Matthias

14

MATTHIAS

I listened in as Filipe described how we knew the brat was in the ocean. The embellishments, while funny, weren't that far off. I was mostly thinking about Ciaran's freckles and the fact that he clearly had an erection back on the beach.

What'd it mean?

Did it have something to do with me, or being manhandled, or his body warming up after being in the cold water for too long? Ciaran didn't seem to mind danger, that was for sure. Or maybe he was just reckless.

Filipe said, "Matty noticed a missing surfboard from the patio. When your room was empty, he sprinted down to the beach like a mama hen, didn't you Matty?"

"Don't make me chuck you from the cliff, Filipe."

He left out the part about me cursing like a sailor, threatening to throttle the damn kid the second I spotted him. Storm clouds were rolling in off the ocean and I knew we had to get Ciaran out of the water as soon as possible.

If Ciaran had encountered a rip current, we'd be pulling his lifeless body from the ocean instead of chatting like nothing alarming had just happened. I didn't care how strong a swimmer he might be, you can't outswim those dangerous currents.

"Matty adores me," Filipe said dramatically to Ciaran. "Has since we were like twelve. The three of us go way back."

"How have you managed to put up with his prickly nature for so long?" Ciaran asked.

"Matty has a gooey center once you get to know him," Joan said with a laugh.

I punched in the pin code for the gate and led everyone into the guesthouse through the patio's wide-open door.

"I don't like to be judgmental, but…" Ciaran started before he grabbed water from the fridge and chugged it. He drank enough ocean water that I didn't blame him for wanting to get rid of the taste. "The three of you are delusional."

"Aw, thank you." Joan squeezed Ciaran's shoulders. "Delusional people make for the most interesting conversations, don't ya think? And won't you look at that, Matty," she said to me with some sort of familial pride, "Ciaran's helping himself to the fridge." She pinched Ciaran's cheeks like an elderly aunt might do, if elderly aunts were twenty-two years old. "Already making yourself at home. Love it."

"I need the nourishment before Prince Matthias has his manservant whip me," Ciaran said as he helped himself to a slice of coffee cake that Franky had left on the counter.

Filipe snickered and Joan barked out a laugh. "I like your baby brother."

"We're not brothers," I said the same time Ciaran said, "He's not my brother."

Joan and Filipe shared a look.

"Maybe they'll warm toward each other," Filipe added with a shrug.

Joan combed Ciaran's wet hair from his face. "You really are a cutie. Look at those adorable freckles. And these shoulders," she marveled, her hands cupping his shoulders. Ciaran's smooth, muscular chest was bare since he had wrapped the towel around his waist. "I was expecting an acne-faced pre-teen, but you're like an athletic stud." She meowed at him, but it contained zero sexual undertones. "How old are you?"

"Eighteen."

"Thought you were seventeen," I interjected.

Ciaran shook his head. "Today's my birthday."

"Happy birthday!" Joan gushed.

"Thanks." Ciaran didn't look too pleased about it.

"Still a little too close to jailbait in my book," Filipe said, and tsked , a hint of suggestion in his tone.

I saw that Ciaran's eyes went wide. He wasn't slow on the uptake.

While Joan was a harmless flirt, Filipe, on the other hand, could turn on the charm in the blink of an eye. He'd be stony all day, like an emotionless statue, but then smile at someone, and they'd be puddles at his feet. My friend had movie-star good looks. Like a moth to a flame, I'd felt that pull myself.

My mood was getting darker and darker. I'd seen them put the moves on countless people, but I wasn't sure I wanted to watch Filipe or Joan flirt with Ciaran right now. At any rate, he didn't seem to be uncomfortable, as if he was used to people fawning over him.

"As much as I'm enjoying your verbal ménage à trois," I said, "the brat and I need to get ready for the party."

Ciaran went pink and I gave him an over-the-top smile.

"Give me your hand, Ciaran," Joan said, yanking Ciaran's hand before he even had a chance to move. She found a pen on the counter. "Here's our numbers. If Prince Matthias or his manservant get out of line, text us, and we'll rescue you, day or night. We promise not to get you into too much trouble."

"I have a feeling I'll be calling you in like five minutes."

Joan kissed Ciaran on the cheek. "See you later, cutie."

After that, she kissed me lightly on the lips. "Bye, Matty."

"Text us tonight after the party," Filipe said, though I knew he meant after I'd received the artifact from LAX. During the week, we'd made arrangements to pick up another priceless item tonight, and I'd sneak out after Dad's gala.

With that, Filipe and Joan walked through the living room, and Joan yelled out, "Couch cushions look intact, Matty. I don't think you have anything to worry about."

I chuckled. Ciaran looked curious but he didn't ask about Joan's comment.

The front door closed and then, all of a sudden, I was alone with Ciaran. For some reason, my breathing became a bit more labored.

"Is that normal? The kissing everyone?" A shadow of confusion flitted over Ciaran's face.

"For Joan, yes."

"So I shouldn't take it as anything other than she was being nice to me?"

"I wouldn't. Joan can be a bit flirty."

"And they are a couple?"

"They are…" I paused, thinking. "They are Filipe and Joan . Honestly, they defy definitions, Ciaran. Folks around here don't like being put in a box."

"Right. Good to know. Well, I guess I'll see you later."

Ciaran turned to leave.

"Wait. I wanted to talk to you about something." It left it vague enough for him to fear I'd bring up his beach erection.

Ciaran stopped in his tracks and slowly turned around. It was obvious he didn't want to be alone with me.

He stammered out, "We don't have to talk about it."

"About what?" I asked innocently. I was enjoying his discomfort. "Oh, you mean that?" I pointed at his crotch. Even though there was no sign of tenting in his swim trunks, his face turned bright red. "I mean, we can discuss it if you want to, but your secrets are yours…for now."

His throat bobbed and he let out a long breath.

"Okay."

"That's not what I wanted to talk about, Ciaran. Do you, or do you not, have a formal suit for tonight?"

Ciaran sighed. "No, I don't."

"That's what I thought." I wanted to avoid him but I couldn't in good conscience on this front. "Can't have you becoming the family embarrassment. The Vaulteneaus have an image to maintain. I think I have something that will fit you."