64. Matthias

64

MATTHIAS

C iaran was right. We'd been living in our own bubble ever since our parents jettisoned off on their world tour.

It wasn't that I wasn't ready to face the harsh truth of our reality as I drove back to Malibu. It was that I was so caught up in Ciaran and wanting to resolve the hectic chaos that was my life that I hadn't fully considered how our relationship might work once some sort of normalcy came into existence.

The truth of it all was that I hadn't expected to fall in love.

Ciaran's gaze pinned me to my seat, though his expression was more of curiosity than worry, so that felt encouraging.

"Dad and Dante both know I'm pansexual, so it won't be a surprise to them that I'm dating a guy. What will surprise them is that I'm serious about the guy. That's kinda never happened before."

"Okay," Ciaran said with a cautious tone. "But that's not what I'm talking about. I mean, I love that you're serious about me. Hello, I'm serious right back." He smiled. "Whether we like it or not, we are stepbrothers and we live together. I can't imagine our parents are going to give us a thumbs-up about the whole thing."

I studied the road signage ahead. We were an hour from Santa Monica. An hour where it was just us, in my car, by ourselves, where we could pretend to be anyone we wanted. Ciaran would be a world-famous author and I would be an Olympic gold medalist swimmer, and we'd live in a cliffside mansion and just be us .

Except we weren't those people yet. We might never become those people. I was twenty-one and Ciaran was eighteen. We still had so much to learn.

All I really knew was that Ciaran was it for me. Ciaran and swimming.

"Do you think we should keep it quiet from them?" Ciaran asked when I didn't respond right away.

His hand squeezed my thigh and I placed mine over the top of his.

"How do you think your mom would react, if she knew?"

"That's a two-fold answer," Ciaran said. "She could care less about my sexuality and I think she knew before I did that I was super into boys. So that's part one. She'd be happy that I'm dating someone who made me happy."

I gave him a quick smile at that because it made me happy that I made him happy. "And the other part?"

"It might give her pause," he answered thoughtfully. "But in the end, because we're not blood related and didn't grow up together, I think she will come around to the idea of us being together if she knows it's serious and we're not just us fooling around. Sleeping together, however…" He trailed off.

"Maybe not so much into the idea of that part?"

"Again, my mom is super sex-positive, and as long as we are being safe, I think she'd be cool with it once she got over the familial tie thing. I believe her main hangup will be that we live together and that our bedrooms are literally next door in the guesthouse."

I zipped around a few cars that were going well under the speed limit. "Just means our parents won't hear us at night."

"Not helping, Matty," he said with an exaggerated groan. "What about your dad?"

Ciaran already knew about the orgies I'd witnessed. I'd seen my dad fuck complete strangers—all women—since before I was a teenager. So Dad didn't really have a leg to stand on.

Still, Ciaran was my stepbrother, and like he said, we didn't grow up together and didn't have that family tie all our lives.

"It might take a few days for my dad to get used to the idea. My guess is, if Theresa doesn't object, then he won't."

Ciaran's eyes narrowed. "That seems too easy, Matty."

"Probably. Okay, here's the truth. My dad will pull me aside and ask if I'm fucking you to get back at him for marrying your mom."

"And are you?"

"You don't hold back punches, do you?" I stole a glance at him. He was serious but not angry. "I wanted to avoid you, not fuck you." He snorted before sizing me up in a way that told me he didn't actually believe me. "All right, that's not entirely true, either. Like, I checked you out and, well, I liked what I saw, which, lemme tell you, was supremely annoying. But there was never a thought in my head to fuck with you to get back at Dad. Once he sees the truth of this, he'll be on our side. Sure, I was not happy to have my life interrupted like that, but I never set out to mess with you as payback. Our parents getting married was very abrupt, even you'd agree with that."

"Yeah, that's true, and I believe you when you say your dad will come around to the idea of us being together." Ciaran took on a reflective expression. "I guess I can be honest with you, too. When I first met you, I thought you were a complete snob who'd never experienced a hard day in your life."

"But was I a hot snob?"

Ciaran's lips twitched. "I am not feeding your ego," he added before continuing on with his main point. "Here I was moving away from everything and everyone I knew. It was like I was this victim and you were my de facto tormentor. It didn't feel like your life had been disrupted, at least not to the degree mine had."

"Do you still feel that way? I mean, I wouldn't blame you if you did."

He gave me a half smile that gave me butterflies.

"You certainly torment me in other ways now, Matty," he joked, and I laughed. "You're not a saint, that's for sure, and I still think you're something of a snob. I suspect being a gazillionaire does that to a person, but now that I've gotten to know you, I realize you have problems, too, and that maybe your life isn't peaches and cream. Plus, I can't imagine it's easy to find true friends."

"Mo' money, mo' problems, amiright?" I quipped. Ciaran merely lifted an eyebrow to indicate I was an idiot. "Gazillionare's not a real word. I thought you were an author or something."

"Jackass," he said. "You don't want Detective Inspector Earl Shiremarch on your case. Bajillionare, then?"

He wasn't going to like how I was about to school him.

"Son of a billionaire," I explained. "The Vaulteneaus are the twentieth richest family in the world." Ciaran started choking. "And guess what?" I asked before he could interject. "You're also the son of a billionaire."

Ciaran's eyes went round and I knew he'd not even once considered that.

"No w-way," he stammered. "Your dad's the billionaire. Leave me and my mom out of it."

His naivete was charming. It was how I knew there wasn't a scheming bone in his body. Ciaran was right earlier: having wealth and Hollywood connections made it difficult to know who to trust and who my true friends were. I loved his candor and vulnerability.

"You'll learn more about my dad once they get back. For him, marriage is for life. What belongs to my dad also belongs to your mom."

Ciaran's face blanched. "Are you telling me there wasn't a prenup?"

"Are you going to pass out if I say no ?"

"Oh, my God," he squeezed out. "Pass out, no. But I might fling myself out of this moving vehicle."

"At least wait until we reach I-10 to do that. There are multiple hospitals along that stretch of road." I rubbed his thigh. "Deep breaths, baby."

Ciaran was sucking in breaths as I took the ramp to I-605, which would take us to I-10. We were forty-five minutes out from the embassy. Using Siri, I sent a message to Joan giving her the heads up so that she and Filipe could meet us there.

After Siri sent the message, Joan sent back, "You got it, dude."

I turned to Ciaran. "Tell me what you're thinking."

"Do you mean other than the fact that it feels like I'm living in an episode of The Twilight Zone ?"

"Never seen an episode, Ciaran."

"That's right," he teased. "Television doesn't fit into the five S's of swimming, school, sleeping, surfing, and sex."

I laughed. "I plan to move sex up the list, if you don't mind. And the only films I watch are at premieres."

"There you go spouting all those hardships you routinely endure. Please, tell me more."

"Oh no, I'm not letting you redirect the conversation, Ciaran. Tell me how you're feeling."

He sighed. "Like a fish out of water. Like I'm completely out of depth." Ciaran sounded almost miserable and it broke my heart. "Mom and I went from scrounging for a living to moving into a literal palace on the Pacific Coast. It feels surreal and weird and otherworldly. I doubt I'll ever get used to it."

I nodded. It was one thing to grow up in this world. It was certainly another to suddenly find yourself newly minted, surrounded in opulent wealth and luxury. I would do well to see the world through Ciaran's eyes, just to appreciate how lucky and blessed I was to come from a family where I didn't have to worry about my next meal.

"I wish I could tell you that it's a perfect life," I offered. "It's not. I'm jaded and hard on myself. I don't trust others and for the most part, I'm playing a role, like I'm playing myself in a movie about my family. Ciaran, I would love to say that you'll never have problems, but that'd be a lie. You're now part of an elite society where you can point at someone or something, and it will be delivered to you on a silver platter."

"But I don't want that, Matty." His eyes flashed with something between anger and indignation. "I can't imagine pointing at someone and having them delivered to me like I was ordering groceries. That's fucking gross."

"I agree, babe. I do." Worry filled my chest. If I was going to lose Ciaran, it would be over his principals and morals, and not some petty squabble. For once in my life, I wished I wasn't a Vaulteneau. "Not everyone is cut out for this life. I have one cousin who shunned it completely. My oldest cousin, Lucian, cut us off after getting accepted into the US Naval Academy and joining the Navy. We only see him at the occasional family gatherings, like reunions and weddings."

We entered Los Angeles proper.

Ciaran surprised me by smirking. "So your advice is for me to join the Navy?"

"First off, you'd look delectable in a military uniform." I waggled my eyebrows at him and he scoffed. "But no, that's not my message. Just be yourself. I know the college thing your mom did without consulting you is still hanging out there, but my advice is to go to the college of your choice, get a degree of your choice, and live life according to your rules. If I had to guess, my dad's accountant already created an account for you, but you don't have to touch it."

"An account?" Ciaran stared at me. "How much are we talking about?"

"Let me put it this way, he gave my six cousins five million each when they were born and another five million when they graduated high school. You're the son of his beloved wife. If I had to guess, I'd say somewhere in the range between ten and twenty million dollars. More when you graduate high school."

Ciaran's face drained of all color and he stopped breathing. "Fuck," he wheezed out. That trip to the hospital might be a real possibility. Ciaran looked like he was in absolute shock.

"Like I said, you don't have to touch it." I squeezed his shoulder in what I hoped was a reassuring gesture. "Give it all away if you want."

Ciaran's expression went into a far-off place, like maybe he was imagining all the ways he could get rid of twenty million dollars, and I didn't think he was considering houses or cars or vacations.

No, Ciaran was spending all that money on worthy causes.

With the interstate backed up, I exited I-10 and turned down a few side roads to get us to Santa Monica Boulevard.

"Okay," was all he said after a few minutes. Color had returned to his face. "I can do that."

"You can do what?" I asked because I needed a bit more. It wasn't everyday someone learned that they'd inherited millions of dollars.

"Give it all away." He offered me a cheeky smile that caused his nose to scrunch up, which caused his freckles to scrunch as well. I melted into my seat. "I'll mooch off my Mr. Moneybags boyfriend. I will, of course, require a manual typewriter installed in every room in the house."

I know he said it as a joke but I wasn't about to reveal how much money was in my various accounts. He'd jump out of the car for real.

A typewriter would be a perfect birthday present for Ciaran, I thought.

As I navigated down Santa Monica Boulevard, I spotted Joan's purple race car farther down the road.

"First things first. Let's get off the embassy's hit list by returning the fertility statue. Then I'll buy you all the typewriters you want, Ciaran."