Chapter 7

SEVEN

Colin

B ecause the Godfreys are pretentious, and my father is a suck up, we're forced to have dinner at the Godfrey house. I can't imagine how excited he is to finally be in-laws with the Godfreys.

When I step out of the shower, I find Owen, once again, under the fucking chaise lounge. I texted Oliver about it, but he left me on read.

With my hair plopped in a microfiber towel on my head and only a hot pink jock on, I stand with my hands on my hips in front of the damn thing.

"Owen, I swear to god, if you don't get dressed…" I blank for a second. "I'll get a damn spray bottle."

Blue eyes peek out from under the lounge. At least he isn't hissing. "Why on earth are you wearing that? Are you going to practice?"

I narrow my eyes, not sure if he's being serious. "Have you never seen a guy wear a jock before?" I try to recall if they are in straight porn, and quickly remember I've never watched straight porn. That would be silly.

"Aren't they to hold cups? Why would you just be wearing it? Is it like a woman wearing a thong?"

I scoff. "No. Dudes can also wear thongs. This is a jock." I turn around, giving him a nice view of my ass.

"It all makes sense now," Owen mutters, army crawling to his closet.

"What makes sense?"

"Why Isaac uses the peach emoji when he means ass." Owen rolls to his back, laying in the middle of his massive closet. Progress—I guess. "Your ass looks just like a juicy peach."

"Thank you—I think?" I follow him into the closet. "You have to actually get dressed now."

"Oliver picks out my clothes. I don't have enough will to live to get dressed." He does not have to tell me twice.

I flip through the button-downs, finding the perfect slate gray with a tie to match my shirt and his eyes. "Does Oliver dress you too? Because I don't mind…"

Owen thinks entirely too hard about my offer before shaking his head and dropping his silk pants. "No. That seems like more work." He turns around to pull on the pants I handed him.

Gods, I want to bite that ass.

He wanders into the bathroom, and I restrain myself from following. I quickly get dressed in a dark teal, custom-fitted suit and white dress shirt that I leave open at the throat. I will not be wearing a bowtie or tie to a family dinner. They're lucky I have pants on.

Ten minutes later, he's still not out, and I knock on the door. "We're going to be late, and unless you want me to come up with a very colorful reason to tell our parents as to why, you better get a move on."

Before I'm done with my cuff links, Owen is out of the bathroom, shoes in his hand and striding out of the room. The man is wearing his Oliver mask. Interesting. Does he always wear that mask around his family, or is it just because Oliver isn't here? The dynamics of this family are so fascinating.

"The helicopter is ready," Owen says in a tone much like he'd rather hurl himself off a building than go.

"Give me two minutes."

"If you aren't out here in thirty seconds, I'm leaving you here." Owen's tone sounds so much like Oliver it's amusing.

"Calm your tits!" I yell back as I grab my shoes. He's checking his watch when I slide across the floor with a smile.

"Are you a child?"

I get my shoes on while we wait for the elevator. "I should hope not, or the thoughts I have about you would be illegal in most parts of this country."

He doesn't rise to my bait this time, which is disappointing, but I have all night to get under his skin.

Once the elevator doors close, he starts in.

"I don't think I should have to warn you about my parents, but they will do everything in their power to gain control over you. So it's imperative you behave." His eyes glint like Oliver's, and his tone matches, making a shiver run down my spine.

I want him to use it in bed.

"Oh darling, have you met me? That's not going to happen." I slide my hands into my pockets, despite wanting to reach for him. "We have to sell this to them. I will be absolutely gushing about my perfect husband." Owen gives me a look of disgust at the word choice, like I figured he would. "You have to do the same and pretend to be happy."

He drags in a deep breath through his nose but doesn't say anything else as we climb into the helicopter.

"You have to touch me." I stare at the back of the seat in front of me as I say it. It's been only a week, and I'm already itching for it. The need to touch and be touched is like breathing. I can't survive without it. Owen has to do something or I'm going to snap.

Owen wrinkles his nose. "How?"

The poor man sounds scandalized. "I don't mean bend me over the dinner table and fuck me in front of everyone, though I wouldn't say no to that either." I shrug. "But I mean, hold my hand, put your arm around me, hand on my lower back, sit next to me. Reach for me." My throat starts to tighten. Clenching my teeth, I force myself to relax. I hate myself a little for craving that from him when this isn't even real. "Newlyweds can't keep their hands off each other. No one will believe that this is real if you don't look for me when I leave the room or reach for me when I'm close."

"Don't leave my side or my mother will corner you."

"You think I can't handle her? Have you met my family?"

"You haven't seen her like you will if she gets you alone. Oliver is the only one who's ever handled her, and even he picks his battles." He looks out the window for a minute. "From the second we step out of the helicopter, they'll be watching. I hope you're prepared."

"I'm not Isaac. I grew up in this world. Cut my teeth on lies and betrayal and underhanded deals. My sister was promised to you as a minor, remember? It's hardly the first time I've dealt with it."

Owen gets out first when we land, throwing open the door while the blades are still spinning and shockingly offers his hand. I smile as if I can see someone watching us. The Godfreys may have cameras out here, I don't know.

He ushers me inside, my hand on his bicep, as we descend to the floor his family lives on. Of course, they own the entire floor and have turned it into a massive penthouse.

"Are my parents here yet?"

"No idea."

"Fantastic."

The doors open, the butler welcomes us, and I acknowledge him with a nod.

With a hand on my lower back, Owen leads me to the formal living room, no doubt for pre-dinner drinks. His parents have drinks in their hands and look furious. Good, because I need a damn stiff one to get through this.

"Owen."

His mother looks like a viper ready to strike. Luckily for me, I'm not unfamiliar.

"Beatrice." I smile sweetly at her. "It's so kind of you to host our families for dinner."

Owen sighs.

I know using her first name when not specifically given permission, as if she is my equal, will piss her off. She zeroes in on me like I figured she would.

"I'm going to need you two to explain yourselves. Married? And to each other? I knew of Oliver's proclivities, but you, Owen?" she demands, striding toward us.

Owen shrugs, his Oliver sneer forming on his mouth. "No one really expects anything of me, do they?"

"Looked up the marriage certificate, did you?" They probably have someone running checks regularly for this type of thing for all three of the Godfrey kids. "Fascinating. So are you angry he didn't tell you or that he's married to a man, or just me specifically?" Before she can answer, I turn to Owen and place my hand on his chest. "Darling, can you grab me a glass of red, please? I'm parched."

I see how badly he wants to roll his eyes, but he smiles and says, "Of course, darling."

I lean in to kiss his cheek, and he tenses for a second, glaring at me behind his mother's back when he walks away. Oh, tonight is going to be a ton of fun.

"Listen here, you insignificant little shit—" Mrs. Godfrey is interrupted by the arrival of my parents.

The butler introduces them, and they glare, much like Owen did.

Such fun.

"Mother, Daddy," Owen snorts and coughs, "so nice to see you."

"I should have expected this from you, Colin, but I expected a more level head from a Godfrey!" my father shouts.

"So we are starting with raised voices, then?" I wink at him for good measure, just in case he didn't get my meaning the first time. "What can I say? I'm very persuasive."

Owen gives me an unamused look when he hands me my glass, and I blow him a kiss. He ignores it and chugs what smells like straight vodka.

"We're in love." Owen takes a quick pause from sucking down his drink. "Isn't getting married what people in love do?" He deadpans it to a stone-cold room. "Right, I forgot. None of you would know what love is."

I cough, unable to hold back my laugh.

"And how long have you been in love, exactly? Colin isn't exactly quiet about his flavor of the week," my mother asks.

"A ruse, mother, to protect Owen's privacy until he was ready."

"And the pictures?" my father asks.

"Staged." I shrug, and Owen tenses. "I'd do anything to protect him."

"And how do I know this isn't a game just to get a rise out of me and to ruin your sister's future?" my father's thunderous yell fills the room.

"It's a bit extreme, even for me. Would I do anything I didn't want to do? Not likely, even for Cassie." A lie, but they'd never know it. My parents would always see me as the black sheep. "And I'm not ruining anything but your botched attempt to sell off Cassie. If anything, I'm saving her. Unless Olivia is looking for a new fiancé and is interested?" I turn to the Godfreys, and they appear horror stricken. "I'll take that as a no. I guess two gay children is enough…"

Owen has finished his drink and is starting a second one.

"That's enough." Owen's voice isn't loud, but there's a power in it that everyone turns toward. "I'm in love with Colin. We are married. Any attempts to undermine our union will be met with equal hostility, and believe me when I say Olivia and Oliver stand with me."

That shuts them all up, and I might have heart eyes.

"A little warning would have been nice, so I could have more time to plan," Owen's mother says at length.

"And what are you planning?" he asks her.

"There will have to have a reception. A formal announcement in the paper. Invitations have to be sent out, and you know how quickly the Governor's calendar fills up."

God forbid the Governor not be there, Owen! Imagine what people will say!

It's physically painful not to roll my eyes at this point.

"I'm sure the Governor will make time," Oscar, Mr. Godfrey, says.

"When is dinner? I'm famished. I worked up quite the appetite before coming here."

Owen leans down to snarl into my ear. "Behave." His lips against my skin send shivers down my spine and make my dick perk up.

"Keep talking to me like that and I'll have to jack off in the bathroom before dessert." His fingers dig into my hip, and I hide my smirk behind my glass.

"Where is Cassie, by the way?" I ask my parents.

"At school," my father snaps.

I lift an eyebrow and make a show of checking the time on my watch. "At seven p.m.?"

"Owen, come here," Beatrice says, flapping her hand. "I need you to approve these plans."

He sighs and walks toward where his mother has a laptop open and sits next to her on the couch.

"Do you have any idea what kind of scandal this will cause? People know Owen and Cassandra were engaged," my mother whisper-yells at me.

"They absolutely were not. We've been together for months."

"How could you do this to us? Cassandra doesn't have a lot of prospects!"

"Cassie is an intelligent, beautiful young woman with her entire life ahead of her. She can find her own husband if she wants one."

"You're so selfish. You always have been. Always have to be the center of attention, don't you?" The disappointment in her voice might have hurt me in the past, but I'd long ago hardened myself to it.

It would be funny if wasn't so pathetic. She doesn't get it. She never has. Being the center of attention protects the people around me who aren't brave enough to stand up to their bullshit.

"Colin?" Owen's voice has me biting my tongue. He waves me over when I glance at him, and I take the opportunity to walk away.

"Since you got married in Las Vegas, we can do a Vegas-themed event with craps, poker, blackjack. All black and gold."

That sounds terrible.

"Sounds great." I smile at her and wrap my hand around Owen's arm.

For the first time since all this started, I feel so fucking alone. We might be a team against our parents, but he can barely stand to be in the same room with me. Not that I blame him. I push him at every opportunity. How else am I supposed to keep him at arm's length?

No one wants me around long term. I've gotten used to that fact. It's probably why I act the way I do. It's easier if I push them away than if they leave me.

But all I want is to be someone's entire world. For someone to see through the act, the bullshit, and still want me.

The butler comes back into the room and announces dinner. Begrudgingly, my parents follow him into the formal dining room. Owen and I are seated next to each other. I make a point of moving our chairs closer together and leaning into him. Owen grits his teeth and puts his hand on my leg.

"Getting awfully friendly there," I say behind my glass.

"If it keeps your mouth shut, I'll suffer through it."

Beatrice talks the entire time about plans, decor ideas, and food, who to invite, and what the public story will be for why we got married in Vegas without telling anyone.

By the time we get back in the helicopter, we're both half-way to drunk and mentally drained. Which means I want dick in the worst way.

"You know you'll have to kiss me at that party, right?" I lean into Owen's space, and he grabs my jaw, holding me a breath away from his mouth.

"Only if you earn it."