I also help Ryan. I decided that when he gets out of rehab, he should act more to stay out of trouble. He had a huge career until two years ago, when he stopped acting and drank his life away.
Then there’s my nephew, who wants to be a musician but is being picky with every contract I propose, so he’s still at ground zero. Fun times!
The only one not asking anything from me is Virginia, but that’s because she doesn’t need to ask for me to take care of her. She’s also not thrilled with my decision to help Ryan, because she thinks I chose him over her. Her brother pulls the same shit all the time about her.
They don’t see that I do everything for them all the freaking time. If I’m taking care of Ryan, it’s because she loves him. She might not even know she does, but I saw it the first time she came back after banging him. She was sad but hooked.
I observe a lot. I see things nobody does.
I took care of Virge for years because she didn’t want to hear about Ian and I wanted to be sure she would come back to him one day. I sided with my brother Clay instead of Virginia in the custody battle for their son for the same reason. I wanted to be sure Asher would be okay and my brother wouldn’t fuck him up too much. There was no way Virginia would win custody after Clay testified that she was selling her body to get money for drugs. He had no proof, but I knew it was true. I’d found her on a street corner, brought her home, and helped her get clean.
Should I have stayed on her side and made Clay mad at me? Maybe. But that would have meant having no access to Asher. So I stayed on Clay’s side to help Asher and make sure that one day, he would be close to Virginia. It took me a long time, but Asher and Virge are almost getting along now. It would have been worse if I hadn’t been around.
Turning forty is clearly fucking me up because I never think of the past, I don’t have time to dwell on the past or overthink my past actions. Any of my actions, in fact. I’m always some steps ahead, and I know what to do and where to go to make all their lives easier.
A few of weeks ago, I didn’t anticipate that Ryan and Virginia would be in a car accident. I told her to call me if she needed, but I’d underestimated how she thinks she can deal with everything by herself. I should have stayed when I saw how drunk Ryan was… I didn’t. I felt so guilty that I cried by her hospital bed. I never cry. The last tear that fell was when I realized I wasn’t enough of a reason to bring Virginia back to Michigan. That day changed me forever and shaped the man I became. The lawyer who thinks that the ends justify the means. The guy who fucks around because he has no time or desire to settle down. The asshole who only sleeps with younger men to be sure his life doesn’t get more complicated. I like it deep, I like it rough, and I like it as a one-night stand.
* * *
I throw the cake in the garbage and walk out of my office to meet Aiden, my best lawyer on the floor. He’s taking care of all of the contracts for my sister, Emma.
During his interview, Aiden was blabbing about wanting to be me one day. I asked him if he liked dicks. He shook his head, so I told him it would be difficult to be me then. Instead of getting upset, he laughed. That took me by surprise, and I hired him right away. He’s the only one here who works as hard as I do.
Emma didn’t want me to help her in her acting career, so I agreed to leave her alone only if Aiden was the one taking care of her. She agreed, probably thinking Aiden would be handsome and I was setting her up to get some. She really doesn’t know me well. Not that I can blame her. She’s eighteen years younger than me, almost as young as Asher. The two of them hang out a lot. Even if technically she’s his aunt, they behave more like cousins.
* * *
“Aiden, what’s up?” I ask when I enter his office and see my number two with his face in his hand, red as a beet.
He grunts, apparently oblivious to my presence.
“Aiden.” I snap my fingers in front of his face and hear a noise under his desk as if someone banged their head.
I get as close as possible to his chair and look over his shoulder to confirm my suspicions. Bingo! Between his legs, dick in mouth, is my assistant.
I don’t know how many times I’ve told my staff that I don’t want them to shit where they eat. They never keep it professional, and it always becomes my problem. Now I can’t fire Marlene without getting a fucking lawsuit slapped on my ass, and I really wanted to fire her this week.
“Fuck, you couldn’t get your dick sucked by someone else?” I snap at Aiden.
And then I remember being on my couch at home, a bearded, tattooed guy on his knees, sucking me…
Only one guy matches that description, and I won’t be able to avoid him like I usually avoid my one-night stands. Because I’m not a coward, I get out of Aiden’s office, letting him apologize to thin air, and dial the only hairy inked asshole I know.
When he picks up, I get right at it. “Luke! What the fuck did we do last night?”
“Did you enjoy your cake, little prince?”
When I hear that stupid nickname, the whole night flashes before my eyes. And it seems I enjoyed it—a lot.
2
Luke
Dextyn Barclay Crawford the Third is a fantastic lay. Yeah, I might have looked at his driver’s license once he passed out. I saw the opportunity to finally learn his full name, so I took it. Everybody calls him Dex, and he made Virge and Ian promise to never reveal the longer version to the group. I couldn’t resist. I wasn't even surprised by the poshness of his name. He comes from money, acts like money, and smells like money. Thank God he doesn’t fuck like it too! I don’t know if it was the alcohol or if it’s how he usually is in bed, but there was no inhibition, no shyness, and no reticence last night. It was raw and passionate, not how you would imagine a Dextyn would fuck. We’re a world apart, but last night it worked, even if I’m the son of an upstate New York hippy farmer and he’s the son of a Michigan Supreme Court judge.
* * *
I was riding a tractor by twelve and left the promised farmland by eighteen while I’m certain Dex was lawyering his way around by eight and stayed with his parents until he went to an Ivy League school. When I decided to leave, I wanted to see where life would bring me. I left behind all I had, except a few drawings. They were my most precious possessions. Because I’m a lucky asshole, I climbed in a car that belonged to a tattoo artist. When he asked where I wanted to go, I shrugged. He asked me what I had in my hands, so I showed him. Three days later, I was getting high on the buzz of a needle, tattooing bananas in New York City.
Dextyn Barclay Crawford The Third… His name is tattooed on my brain, as much as his moan or the image of him biting the pillow. Now that I have these precious pieces of information in my hands, I’m not sure what I should do with it. I could tell Julie, or I could use it to blackmail the little prince. Because it’s fun to fuck with Dex—in every single way.
I was surprised last night when he said he was drinking alone. I thought Ian and Julie would be with him, or that Virginia had planned a party and forgotten to invite me. Even if I get along with Dex all right, I wouldn’t have been surprised if they had a “family” gathering that excluded me.