The Boss in the Bedroom (MxM)

21. He Really Isn't That Old

"You really like him that much?" I asked.

"Yes," he blushed.

"Gross."

"Alright, I think I'd better give you guys some privacy. Lukas, be nice," Damien warned, and I rolled my eyes at him. "I'll go wait for you in the car downstairs," he said, standing up to leave.

"I'm a grown man, quit talking to me like I'm a kid."

"Whatever you say, princess," he smirked at me.

"It's King!" I yelled after him, but he'd already left and shut the door behind him.

"So... are you guys official now?" Ethan asked.

"Umm, yeah," I replied. "So you and Chris, huh?"

"Yeah," Ethan affirmed.

The room lapsed into silence once more before I broke it. "I'm really sorry for accusing you like that without even giving you a chance to explain."

"Do you want me to tell you it's fine? Because it's not," Ethan said, surprising me.

"What? I thought we were okay? You just apologized too," I remarked.

"I mean, yeah, I'm sorry I lied to you. I shouldn't have done that. But I'm not sorry for dating Chris."

"But he's the enemy—" I began.

"He's your enemy, Lukas. Yours, not mine," Ethan emphasized.

"I'm just worried about you, E."

"As you said, Lukas, I'm a grown man. I can take care of myself."

"I just thought he might be using you to get information against Noble Couture," I explained.

"Why would you think that?" Ethan questioned. "Do you really find it that hard to believe that maybe someone was actually just in love with me?"

"I'm sorry, Ethan. You know that's not what I meant. It's not an excuse for what I said and how I reacted. I went off on you without even giving you a chance to explain yourself. We were under a lot of pressure, and I let my emotions get the best of me I just worried that Chris might be a predator trying to take advantage of you."

"He's really not that old," Ethan mumbled. "And you keep saying he's a predator like he's some potbellied middle-aged man."

"He might as well be," I grumbled under my breath. "He really is just sooo old and he's sooo fuglyyyy too," I complained.

"Lukas," he warned with a look.

"Sorry, I guess old habits die hard," I mumbled.

"For the record, he's not that old; he's 27, and he's not that bad-looking either. Also, what grown man still says 'fugly'?" Ethan said, and I rolled my eyes.

"Fine, whatever you say," I relented. "So are we good now?"

"I guess so," Ethan sighed.

"So... is this the part where we kiss and make up?" I joked, puckering my lips.

"That's disgusting. Save that for your man. Don't think I didn't see him bossing you around too, Princess," Ethan snickered. "What was that all about anyways, you got some sugar daddy-sugar baby thing going on?" he wiggled his eyebrows suggestively in a way that made him look more stupid than I'm sure he thought.

"Damien is not my sugar daddy," I mumbled, feeling the tips of my ears heat up. I missed the sweet, shy, innocent Ethan. I'm pretty sure this one here has been corrupted by Chris.

Ethan chuckled. "Hey, you never know. He's got that whole responsible, mature vibe going on."

"Yeah, but he's not that old," I protested, defending Damien.

"He's wayyy older than Chris and even more so than the two of us. He could be the same age as Uncle Lee for all we know."

"My boyfriend is not the same age as my dad," I insisted.

"How would you know? How old is he then?"

"I, umm...he's, uhh...shit."

"You don't even know how old he is. I bet you don't even know when his birthday either. Still as selfish as ever, I see," Ethan said. Though he was probably joking, I couldn't help the look of hurt that flashed on my face.

"I'm sorry, Lukas. I shouldn't have said that. I guess I'm still the teeniest bit upset."

"No, it's fine. I deserved that, and you aren't wrong either."

As we bantered back and forth, I couldn't help but feel a sense of relief. Despite our rocky start, it seemed like Ethan and I were finally on the path to reconciliation, at least. And with Damien waiting downstairs, I was eager to put this awkward encounter behind me and return to the comfort of my man's awaiting arms.