Chapter Six - Five
I listen because I have no choice.
I nod my head and smile. I drink with them. I laugh with them. I eat with them.
I blend in.
Because that’s what I do.
When a guy gets into Oxford mid-year at fifteen it’s easy to think he’s something special. And when your last name is Aston you grow up with certain expectations. You will be accepted, you will be invited to things, you will be included.
And I was. I’m not complaining about how I was treated at Oxford.
But everyone who’s anyone at Oxford is an Aston. They are all old-money geniuses.
I’d heard about the infamous drinking societies. Who hasn’t? But I was fifteen. So I was ignored.
It didn’t last. By second year it became very clear that people expected things of me. When I opted out of their offers because of my age that first year, they gave me a pass. But that didn’t last either because you can legally drink at private functions if you’re sixteen and being served by an adult. By the end of second year—right around the time I was thinking about going home to Colorado for the summer to see Rory—everything changed.
And it all started with Jack Joseph.
“So…” Jack says. The night is old and the tent is filled with people now. Mostly older couples dancing and laughing. There’s a string quartet playing and the drinks are generously flowing. “What do you say to the offer, Aston?”
Our eyes meet. His are dull blue. I hate his accent. It’s so pretentiously British. “I’m not staying in the US, Jack. I’m on my way to Mars, actually.”
He bellows out a laugh so loud, several couples look over at us. “Mars,” he chortles. “Good one, Aston.”
“I’m dead fucking serious. I’ve been offered a position over in China with a private corporation. We’re sending more robots to Mars.”
“There are no real private space organizations in China, Aston. Stop bullshitting. They’re all under the thumb of the government.”
I shrug. “What do I care? It’s a fucking job, right?”
Jack takes this personally, I can tell. “We told you why you should care.”
“But you didn’t tell me why I should join.”
“No?” Jack asks. “Country?”
“We’re not even from the same country, Jack. So why don’t you stop all the circle talk and just get to the point?”
“It’s a way of life, Aston. The upper echelon rules the world and you’re part of it, whether you like it not. You’re expected to rise to the occasion.”
“Is that the kind of bullshit your father filled your head with growing up? Because mine wasn’t like that. He’s an outsider, Jack. And I’m a chip right off his block.”
“Yeah,” he sneers. “I’ve heard a lot about your father.” He shakes his head. “Don’t make the same mistake he did, Aston. Don’t waste your life making TV shows and looking over your shoulder.”
I stand and button my coat. “I told you three years ago my answer was no and nothing has changed. I’m not a joiner, Jack. Maybe you need something like this”—I wave my hand in the direction of the party tent—“to make you feel… special. But I’ve been special my whole life and there’s nothing I want less.”
“A Chinese Mars mission will just put you in the hands of other men,” Jack calls out as I walk away. “Come on, Aston. Grow the fuck up.”
I don’t bother answering. I find my way out of the party, then the house, then the property, and when I get back in my rental car, I’m on autopilot.
Start it up. Get out of this neighborhood. Find the freeway. Head north.
Jack Joseph has no idea who I am. Or my father, if he really thinks Ford Aston considered for a second taking up with the likes of him and his cronies. Jack sees my money. The seven companies I’ve sold over the past several years. My successful apps, my software, my robots from school and beyond.
But it’s only half the picture. The public picture.
The private one is altogether different.
I am going to China, but it’s got nothing to do with robots and I’m only going because I can’t find a way out. Why the hell would I go live in China when everything I love is here? Everything I want is here.
I’ve been gone long enough. I need to come home. And this trip was exactly what I needed to clarify my goals.
But… these people. They’re serious about what they do. And just getting this invitation is enough to put me on their radar.
China might not be a bad place to disappear. And I’m thinking disappearing might be the way to go. Get these pretentious fuckers off my back a little longer. I have no doubt they’re playing a long game with me, but I can buy myself some time, at least.
The late-night traffic in Denver wanes as I reach the outer limits of the city. And by the time I’m cruising up towards Fort Collins, it’s practically nonexistent.
That’s when Rory comes to mind.
She makes me smile. I didn’t plan on seeing her yet. Not this summer. Not until I had my shit together. Plus, she’s got another year at Princeton. She deserves to make the most of that year and not be tied to a guy who lives and breathes secrets. I can give her that one gift. Because next year, if she accepts my offer, her life will be radically different.
The boring boyfriend is no threat. I’m not worried about him. I’ve already decided to stay the weekend, so I’ve got two whole days before I have to make a decision about what comes next. Two whole days to spend with my princess. Two whole days to make her remember why she loves me. Two whole days to enjoy her before I have to let her go for another year.
I’m gonna make the most of those days.
My house is dark when I pull into the driveway and for a second, I wonder if I should just go over to Sparrow’s house and see if Rory is staying there. I know Kate is at Sparrow’s. She texted me earlier. And Rory won’t be out at the farm, not when everyone else is gone. That place is kinda creepy if there’s not a dozen people milling around to keep it lively. It’s in the middle of nowhere. A river on one side and miles between the neighbors.
So she might be at Sparrow’s. But… Oliver will definitely be at Sparrow’s house and I can do without all his questions.
I get out of the car and walk up the front stoop. Thinking of Rory leaves an ache in my chest that will just grow stronger the longer this goes on. We’re so close, yet so far apart at the same time.
Tomorrow, Five. Tonight, you have another job to do.
The flash drive with the code has been burning a hole in my pocket all day. And even though picking it up was an afterthought once I landed in Denver, it was a good move. Because the code on this drive is the most perfect string of numbers, letters, and symbols I’ve ever had the pleasure of creating.
I open the door and get a whiff of something sweet. Like Kate was baking cookies earlier. I flick on the foyer light and…
“Well, hello there, handsome.”
Rory Shrike is sprawled out on the steps wearing nothing but… whip cream and strawberries.
I cock an eyebrow as I grin. “What are you doing?”
“Waiting for my man to come home so I can give him dessert.” She’s purring her words, Marilyn Monroe style.
My mouth drops open. I’m not sure if I’m surprised, amused, or turned on. All three, I think.
Rory stands, allowing me to get a good look at her. All her sexy parts are covered in dollops of whip cream. And on top of each crested peak are thin slices of strawberries. Her nipples, her pussy, and there’s even a little bit of cream on her nose. But that last one has no strawberry and I don’t think it was on purpose.
“This is…”
“Hot?” she purrs.
“Yes,” I say. Because she’s wiggling her curvy hips as she walks towards me. Have I ever seen the princess’ breasts so… openly?
Nope. I’m pretty sure I’d remember that.
“Erotic?” she asks, taking my tie in her fingertips and pulling me towards her.
“Definitely.” I smile.
“Am I making you hungry, Five Aston? Hungry for my body.” She bats her eyelashes at me, cartoon-style. “Do you want to eat me up?”
My hands land on her waist just as she slides hers around the back of my neck. “Hmmm,” I say, playing it cool. “I haven’t eaten dinner yet, Princess.”
“I’ll take care of that,” she says, still in that low hum of a voice. She leans up on her tiptoes and then those perfectly plump lips are on mine. I pull her close—fuck the whip cream and the five-thousand-dollar suit—and kiss her back.
Her tongue is sweet. Like she’s been sampling her outfit while she was waiting for me. She tastes like the past, the present, and the future all at once.
When she pulls back, she squints her eyes in confusion.
“What’s wrong?” I ask.
“How did you get whip cream on your nose?” And then her hand goes up to her face and finds her little mistake. “Oh, my God. Please tell me that wasn’t there when I was in seduction mode!”
I lean down and lick it off, then kiss her lips again.
The last time I kissed Rory Shrike was six summers ago when I was leaving town. It was a quick kiss at the airport. In front of her father. My father. It was a stupid kiss.
But this one… this one is the do-over I’ve been dreaming about.
I hold her face in my hands and lose my mind as visions of corrupting my strawberry princess flood in.
“Take me to your room,” she says. “Right now. I want this, Five Aston. I need this.”
I ignore all her pleas as I lean down to pluck the strawberry from her nipple. Her breasts are large, and round, and perfect. I hold it in my hand, my cock getting hard, and lick her until her head falls back and her mouth opens into a moan.
“Fuck me,” she whispers.
“I thought it was, Kiss me,” I say, crouching down until I’m eye-to-eye with her whip cream pussy. I pluck that strawberry off too, then swipe my tongue up her slit and get a mouthful of sweet cream.
“We’re moving on,” she says, her voice a little squeaky from my sudden position change.
I slip my finger between her legs, letting it slide through the fluffy mound of white, and find her opening.
“Five,” she moans. “Take me upstairs.”
Upstairs. She’s so cute.
“I’m gonna fuck you right here on the steps, Princess.”
“Yes,” she says, fisting my hair as I go back in for another taste. “Yes. You have no idea how long—”
Her phone rings. The musical trill of Some Day My Prince Will Come echoes. We both stop to look around. Her phone is lit up and about to vibrate off the foyer table when I rush over and catch it one-handed, just before it crashes onto the tile.
The screen says, Daddy.
Jesus.
I hand it over. Rory’s eyes go wide as she sees who it is and she tabs Accept, saying, “Yes, Daddy?”
“Where are you, Rory?” Spencer has always been a loud guy. Big, and rough, and tattooed from head to toe in black and red birds and skulls.
“Oh, well, I’m in Fort Collins. Five came home and—”
“Are you at the farm?” he asks.
“No,” Rory says, wincing as she looks down at her half-eaten outfit. “No, I’m at Five’s right now.”
“Is he there?” Spencer asks.
Rory looks at me. I shake my head furiously. I do not need a conversation with Spencer Shrike right now. Not when I still have her pussy cream all over my hands and the taste of strawberry sex in my mouth.
“Yes,” Rory says in her sweet Daddy voice. “He’s here.”
“Put him on,” Spencer growls.
Rory hands me the phone. We really need to have a long conversation about when it is, and isn’t, appropriate to lie. “Yes, sir?” I ask the phone.
“I will charter a fucking jet right now and kick your ass in six hours if you hurt my baby again.”
I take the phone from my ear and stare at it. Then get a hold of myself. “I won’t.”
It’s lame. I know it’s lame. But Spencer Shrike has that effect on people.
“Put Rory back on.”
I hand the phone to Rory. She takes it and says, “Yes, Daddy?”
“Have fun, Princess. We’ll be back next week. We hope you stay in town and wait for us.”
“OK,” she says. “I’ll stay if Five does.” She winks at me, like this is so clever. But I can only imagine how her father is taking that little challenge right now.
They exchange a few more pleasantries, and then she hangs up. “There’s no cameras in here, right?”
“I have no idea,” I say. “But I’m pretty sure if my dad had cameras he’d keep his mouth shut about this little unauthorized adventure.”
“Good,” Princess says, tossing her phone onto a foyer chair. “Then let’s just pick it right back up—”
But I hold up a hand to stop her. Because even though Spencer Shrike is kind of a dick to me—and has been my whole life—he’s one hundred percent serious about what he will do if I hurt his baby. And at this point, I don’t think there’s any way in the world Rory doesn’t get hurt by me.
“Rory,” I say.
“What?” She’s got a look of mania in her eyes. “Don’t tell me you’re afraid of my father? You’ve never been—”
“No,” I say. Although that’s not entirely true. Anyone who isn’t afraid of Spencer is just a dumbass. “It’s just… I want to do this right, Ror. I can stay the weekend. But…”
Her face crumples. “You’re leaving me again?”
I want to say no. Never. But I am. Because I have to. That meeting in Denver, the code in my pocket, the business on the other side of the world. It’s all interfering in her grand plans to find the happily ever after. And she deserves to know that before I finish eating her up for dessert.
I want to offer up some kind of condolence. Tell her I’m doing this for us. That I love her, and only her, and will never love anyone else for as long as I live. But she doesn’t give me a chance. She turns on her heel, walks into the hall bathroom, and less than two minutes later comes out dressed, clutching her purse, and snatches her phone off the chair as she passes me.
“Call me when you’re serious about us, Five. Because I’m sick of your boyish games.”
The door slams behind her.
The silence in her wake is deafening.