17. Ciaran

17

CIARAN

E arlier, when Matthias brought me into the main house, I'd barely been able to keep my mouth closed. Marble floors, gold fixtures, al fresco paintings on the ceiling, a double grand staircase, luxurious furniture, and a large grand ballroom that could serve as an indoor-outdoor entertainment space if the glass wall panels were pushed outward.

In the same manner that the patio wall was left open in the guest room, it made the space even larger, which seemed insane given that it was already a very large estate with multiple wings and levels.

Now, though, as we exited the party, it also felt like we'd left behind the estate's glittering opulence. It felt, I don't know, oppressive somehow, like I couldn't breathe until now.

Once we were outside, the evening was welcoming and cool. A gentle breeze ruffled through palm leaves and fragrant bushes.

It was getting darker, with a reddish sun sinking low in the horizon, and my eyes adjusted from the contrast of being inside a brightly lit room to the dusky outdoors.

Groundskeeping lights were illuminated and the path to the guesthouse was marked with soft glowing lanterns. The pools were laguna blue and the waterfall's constant rushing water serenaded the night. Palm trees and desert foliage were lit up by angled orange lights, giving the allusion of fire.

I had no idea if Matthias meant to keep his word, that he'd take me to this beach party. Honestly, I wasn't even sure if there was a beach party.

All I really knew was that, in his royal blue suit, I had to force myself not to ogle him all night long as Mom and I made our way around the ballroom. Matthias looked so angry as he stood in that corner for most of the night. Why wasn't his girlfriend here tonight? When I first met him, he'd looked like a male model who draped himself with beautiful women.

Now, however, he came across as the aloof Prince of Malibu, the handsome billionaire who could command the will of others with the snap of his fingers.

Back in the ballroom, as I met Hollywood elite and other ultra famous persons, I'd overheard guests talking about Matthias's Olympic swim team ambitions. Was he that good? I guess I'd have to wait and see. His brooding, stiff backside didn't invite questions.

Once upstairs, I followed Matthias into his bedroom, intending to disrobe and hand back the suit. Through the open patio door, the steady crash of ocean waves brought with it a sandy, seaweed fragrance. The moon hung like a pale jewel in the darkening sky.

"What do you think you're doing?" Matthias asked, turning so suddenly I almost bumped into him.

I hadn't even unbuttoned the jacket, so it wasn't like I was doing some sort of strip tease. "Don't you want your clothes back?"

He stared at me and then gave me a once over, the hint of a sneer on his lips. "Keep them." He started removing his own clothing, carefully draping everything over one of his chairs. "You weren't wrong, the outfit looks better on you."

"Did you just compliment me?"

"No, I insulted the clothing." When he unbuttoned his pants, he looked pointedly at the door. "Have a nice evening, Ciaran."

"So there's no party?"

"This is Malibu," he deadpanned. "There's aways a party, but I have to run an errand."

Matthias wasn't getting rid of me that easily. Besides, the estate had servants who took care of errands. Whatever he was up to, it wasn't some inane errand.

"I'm going with you, bestie." I made a heart symbol with my hands and peered at his head through it. "I'd hate to break our parents' hearts. They're so…what's the word…? Invested in us getting along."

I was doing my damndest to ignore that Matthias was wearing less and less clothing, until he was in nothing but boxers.

One thing about Matthias, he wasn't shy about his physique. As a competitive swimmer, and a lifelong one at that, he didn't have an ounce of extra flesh on him.

I tried not to stare but honestly, it was like watching art move before my very eyes. My friend Kinzy would have begged to paint him.

If only he wasn't such a dick.

Instead, I shifted my focus to the wooden, heavily lacquered surfboard hanging from the wall. It was a burnt orange hue with two faded black stripes running top to bottom. It was too chipped and faded for decoration. Was it an old board? Maybe his first long board?

"Yeah, well, our parents are leaving the country in a few hours, Ciaran. I think the only thing they are invested in is getting in a quickie before they depart."

I pinched the bridge of my nose. "I'd prefer it if you didn't bring up our parent's sex life."

Saying the word sex made me think of Drew, about how I'd wanted to be with him that day, but chickened out. Drew had been so patient with me, that it was no wonder he'd become distant afterwards. I had no one to blame but myself.

Matthias considered me. "Deal," he said as he donned a pair of jeans, a T-shirt, and a pullover sweater. His movements were steady, automatic, though he rolled his right shoulder. His face contorted into a faint grimace before the expression disappeared. "I don't want to think about them doing it either."

"Our first agreement," I joked, pulling out my phone and tapping the calendar app. "Totally writing this down in my phone." Matthias stepped forward and snatched the phone out of my hands. "Motherfucker." I charged him to grab it back, but he expertly dodged me by jumping up on his bed. "Give back my phone."

"I took your mother's words to heart, Ciaran." His fingers tapped away, opening the messaging app. "You're in need of parental supervision, apparently. Let's see who you've been sending dick pics to."

"Not funny, unless you want to exchange phones so I can inspect yours." Swiping at his feet, I wrapped my hand around an ankle and yanked hard. Matthias, nonplussed, collapsed in perfect harmony on the mattress, not evening breaking his stride as he scrolled through my phone. "You probably have a hundred videos of you banging girls at clubs," I growled. "Bet your girlfriend wouldn't like that."

He tore his gaze from my phone for a split second to give me a blank look.

"Far from it." Matthias studied me. One eyebrow quirked. "But I see you've stalked me online. I'm flattered."

Okay, that was true but not fair. Matthias played dirty.

"Vain much? I had to find out if you were involved in international crime," I snapped back. "You'd do the same." Matthias shrugged. He was still lying on the bed while I stood beside him like an idiot. What if he saw my texts with Drew? My blood boiled. "Fuck this and fuck you ."

On my knees, I crawled on the bed and flung myself on top of Matthias, reaching for my phone. He snickered, obviously enjoying the irritation he was inflicting upon me.

It all happened so fast that it wasn't clear to me how I came to straddle him during the scuffle. I pinned him down to get my phone, but he extended his arm further up the bed even though I could see the action caused him physical pain.

"My, my, Ciaran, you are most passionate about your privacy. Let's see," Matthias started. "Kinzy loves your jacket. Raj sent a million thumbs-up emojis. Is that common for him?"

I did my best to ignore which parts of our bodies were touching. Ignore everything, Ciaran , I told myself. Ignore that we were two boys wriggling on a bed. Matthias's body was not even remotely perfect. Nope, not at all. Fleetingly, I realized that if he bucked or shifted in a certain way, I'd feel even more of him.

Matthias appeared…unaffected.

"He's excitable," I said, describing Raj.

Why the hell was I entertaining this conversation?

Matthias's face transformed when he smiled and I momentarily got lost in his dazzling brown eyes. Still straddling him, I reached up again, he twisted away, and I attempted to follow.

The definitive sound of ripping fabric caused both of us to go very, very still.

Lifting my right arm, together we inspected the underside of the crimson jacket, where the armpit part of the sleeve had torn away from the fabric.

I groaned.

"Somewhere in Palm Beach, Tom Ford has burst into tears without knowing why," Matthias chuckled. In my distracted state, he shoved me aside, rolled off the bed, and propped himself against the doorway of his walk-in closet. "Someone named Rowen sent a link to a YouTube video. Hmm. I recognize the inside of that jet."

I sat on the edge of Matthias's bed, head in my hands. "Just get this over with."

He clicked through a few more times. He made a strangled noise and I looked up. With a frown, he asked, "Who's Drew?"

"No one," I said, trying to breathe as evenly as possible. Standing, I held out my hand, closing the distance between us, but he slapped it away. "Someone from school."

Matthias saw something in my face. "Well, this just got interesting. I dare you to tell me the truth, Ciaran. If you do, I'll give it back."

"Told you, I don't do dares."

"Then I guess you won't get your phone back. I mean, don't you want to see what he wrote back to your last text?"

My heart thudded. I'd texted that I missed him and asked if we could video chat this weekend.

If Drew texted back, then…then what?

I weighed my options. I wanted my phone. I wanted to see what he wrote. I needed to see what he wrote.

Was it so bad to disclose who Drew was? It wasn't like Matthias knew anyone from back home.

"Drew is…a guy I'm interested in," I admitted, my voice hollow yet defensive. Let him judge. I didn't give a shit.

Matthias studied me a long moment, his expression mostly unreadable. This was the moment he'd say something like, oh, you're gay, or so you like dudes , or some other clichéd statement.

Instead he said, "I assess you're telling me the truth."

He handed my phone back. Snatching it, I growled, flipped him the bird, and retreated into my own room.

I wasn't about to share anything—my excitement, my fear—with Matthias.

Slamming my door, I locked it. Holding my breath, I opened Drew's text.

It said, We'll chat soon. In the meantime, I hope Malibu is treating you well.

That was it. That was the totality of Drew's bland reply.

No, I miss you , or I can't wait to talk again , or Send me a few snaps of the beach.

The buildup of anticipation imploded inwardly when it failed deliver the expected results.

Drew was punishing me and I couldn't make up my mind if I deserved it or not.

I slid down the door, my head hung low. Here I was, literally living in paradise and I felt like dog shit all over again.

A footfall sounded from the patio and I jerked my head up.

"Locking your door doesn't help if you keep the sliding door open," Matthias said from the patio. He'd thrown on a jacket with a hoodie and was carrying a nondescript black gym bag. When I didn't reply, he said, "Sorry for getting your hopes up, Ciaran. If I had known…"

"It's none of your business."

"Fair enough." He retreated. "I'll catch your act in the morning, Ciaran."

"Not so fast." I locked my phone and scrambled to my feet. "I'm going with you."

There was no way I wanted to be alone right now, otherwise I'd drown in my own miserable thoughts.

Matthias stepped into the room. "And I said you're not."

"Do people swim in the ocean at night?"

"Of course they do—" He stopped. An exasperated sigh escaped his lips. "Well played, Ciaran. It'd be in poor spirit to let you drown on your first night in Malibu. Get dressed, birthday boy, and meet me downstairs in five minutes."