But Blue has had a much harder life, and he looks the same age as me. So I don’t know what’s got into him with this whole baby crap. He must be one of these idiots that thinks a year or two makes a huge difference.
“So, what are you? Two hundred and something?” I tease.
He nods.
Oh fuck, he is not joking. Oh my god! This is unreal. He doesn’t have a wrinkle on him. He is all cute baby face and choppy blond hair and gorgeous Pacific blue eyes.
“I don’t want you selling yourself,” he says with a very intense look on his face.
I blink while my mind tries to process that, but nope, it doesn’t make sense. I take a bite of my burger and chew.
“That’s not your decision, Blue.”
He scowls. “You could get hurt…and it’s not nice to have to… do that.”
Oh he is such a sweetheart. I reach out and place my hand over his. None of the boys talk much about the harem, why would they? But I’ve heard bits and pieces. I know they all coped with it in different ways and that Blue was the most scared. I know they all tried to save him when they could.
“I’m fine, sweetheart,” I promise him. “It doesn’t bother me.”
He gives me a strange look. “You like it?”
Fuck. Another kick right in the feels and this one feels like it struck me right in the nuts. The bollocks of feels. And it’s awful. It hurts, and the pain is shooting all through me. Because, no, I don’t like it. And nobody has ever asked that before, so I rarely think about how much I hate selling myself. Why would I think about it? It’s not like I’ve ever had a choice. I cope by drifting along in blissful denial, and now it’s all tumbling down. All because Blue asked me three little words.
My skin is crawling, but I ignore it to plaster on my brightest smile. “Of course!” I say, far too brightly. “I love it. Wouldn’t do it otherwise.”
Blue is watching me intently. It feels as if he is peering into my very soul and can see all of my lies. But he just gives me a suspicious look and slurps on his milkshake.
Fuck. I’m so fucked.
Chapter five
Blue
Something is itching at the back of my mind. It’s insistent and only growing louder. Images of Sammy keep popping up in my thoughts.
I think this is the mate bond. And I think Sammy needs me.
I’m pulling myself out of my pool before I’ve even thought about it. Seems I am more concerned about Sammy than I am about this sudden undeniable proof that the mate bond is real. I believed Gray, I really did, but something about actually feeling it for myself is truly making it hit home.
Fuck.
But there is no time to panic now. Sammy needs me.
Has he gone out again, and actually found a customer this time? My body jerks and shudders. My stomach heaves. The thought of Sammy being in danger is abhorrent. Especially in that way. If he was about to be eaten by sharks, that would be far easier for me to deal with.
But whatever the problem is, I need to get to him first. And that’s a whole problem in itself.
Will I be able to find him? Last time, I simply followed him from the house. He is frightfully unobservant. I really don’t know how he has kept himself alive. But then twenty-one years is nothing. A blip. It’s probably just been good luck. Luck that might run out any minute.
I close my eyes and reach out to see if I can feel him. Oh Amphitrite, I can. And he is in the house. But that is nowhere near as reliving as it should be.
My thoughts spiral back to his unbelievably young age, and guilt coils in my gut. I’ve claimed a mate who is barely out of childhood. It’s predatory and vile. But then again, humans age so differently. If I look at stages, not actual years, it’s not so bad. We are both just beginning our adulthood.
Urgh. Whatever. It doesn’t matter. I’m undoing this bond as soon as I can, and then this will all be over.
I grab a pair of sweatpants from the storage box by my pool and hop into them as I hurry to Sammy’s room.
The house is dark and quiet. Sammy’s room is on the ground floor, right at the back. A part of the house we weren’t using before Gray turned up with Sammy and an unconscious Mal one night.
