Page 30 of Sour Candy (Sour Candy #1)

“That asshole ,” Daphne seethed, white-knuckling her coffee cup. “Oh my god. I’m going to ruin Dillion’s pottery before it goes in the kiln. I’m going to steal his paints. I’m going to?—”

“Glare at him from a distance and hope he doesn’t report me for assault,” Benji finished for her, leaning over the library cafe table to squeeze her wrist. “Because you know he’s the kind of dick who would do that.”

Daphne scowled, the expression suiting her messy hangover hair and her smudged eyeliner perfectly. Then she took a sip of coffee and brightened. “But new car! Holy shit!”

“I know,” Benji said. “And I’m not even stressed about it!”

She scrutinized him. “You look a little stressed.”

“I mean,” Benji said. He sipped his coffee. He’d been talking so much that he had barely made a dent in the foam, and it was almost time for class. “Yeah. It’s going to suck when I have the car and not the guy. Hard to get over someone when you’re driving around in a gift he gave you.”

Daphne groaned, kicking him under the table with her kitten heels. “What is with you? Stop focusing on the future and enjoy the hot, rich guy who’s obsessed with you! Who, by the way, is taking you to a super fancy party tonight!”

“Awesome,” Benji said flatly. “I love parties.”

Daphne’s scowl twitched with a fond, if pained, smile. “ Try to have fun. Maybe he can mope with you in the corner!”

“Yeah,” Benji said. “Maybe.”

His current plan was to convince Noah to leave as early as possible. He had a few ideas up his sleeve. Most of them involved lingerie. All of them involved Benji getting railed so hard he forgot his name.

He took his time getting dressed that night. Partly because he had to pause to open himself up, and partly because he couldn’t decide what panties to wear.

He went with a black thong, the band not even big enough to cover the plug that was nestled inside of him.

Benji shivered, leaning from side to side to feel it slide over the silver plug.

Noah loved opening him up with his fingers, but tonight Benji wanted him to have the fastest access possible.

He’d forgive Benji for it once he was inside him.

He eased his slacks up, waited for his erection to go down, then grabbed his suit jacket.

He took a second to admire himself in the mirror.

Dark green suit with a navy pocket square, something that Benji didn’t know existed until Noah showed him.

His lips were less chapped than usual. His hair was shinier than ever thanks to the conditioner Noah bought for him.

But it was more than that. Benji looked… happy. Excited. It sent a wave of nerves through him, knee-jerk and reflexive, waiting for something to take it away. He closed his eyes, focusing on Noah’s words in the movie theater bathroom: Just let yourself feel good.

Benji could let himself feel good. When Noah got here, he might not even notice the inevitable dread.

Max was in the living room when Benji walked out. He stopped halfway through shoving a giant robotics textbook into his backpack to gape.

“What the hell,” he said. “Is that a pocket square? Are you getting married ?”

“What? No. Why would you—?” Benji tugged his shirt self-consciously. “How do you know what a pocket square is?”

“I read, dipshit. Unlike some of us.” Max resumed trying to stuff a giant book into his backpack, still staring at him incredulously. “I’m sorry, I was in shock. Never seen you so fancy before. Are you going on a date with your boss boyfriend ?”

Benji took out the pocket square and smacked him in the back of the head. Carefully, because Noah had folded it, and Benji didn’t want to have to do it again, but wrong.

“It’s not like that,” he said, tucking it back into place. “And you better not say that when he’s around.”

Max didn’t even pretend to be hurt by the pocket square attack, which is how Benji knew he was truly puzzled.

“Does he not want to be your boyfriend? I know he’s your boss and all, but I thought he really liked you.

I know I was watching the movie, but I’m not blind.

It was physically impossible to miss you guys making goo-goo eyes at each other. ”

“Shut up and pack for your sleepover,” Benji told him. “Whose house are you going to again?”

“JJ. His mom’s picking me up in an hour.” Max heaved the backpack up onto the couch, the book still bulging out of the top. He’d given up on forcing the zipper. “You guys should move in together. I bet Noah has enough space for an art studio and a robot room. We’d be set!”

“Robot room,” Benji repeated.

Max nodded, beaming. He looked so young .

All chubby cheeks and bouncy curls. Benji didn’t look like that at that age.

He was already guarded by then, all hunched shoulders and glares.

Benji had gotten lucky with him. But he couldn’t let Max go around believing shit like that. Not when it came to Benji.

“Max,” he said gravely. “Don’t say shit like that. Alright? And don’t get used to this. Not the early movies, the cool shit we’ve been getting—hell, the takeout twice a week. We’re just borrowing the good life, okay? We’ll be back to normal soon enough.”

Max frowned. “Why?”

For a strange second, Max’s guileless face made Benji warm with rage.

He had no clue how the kid was so upbeat.

How he was so well-adjusted; how he had so many friends .

He basically lost both parents and his aunt before he was ten and was being raised by his shithead of a big brother, who, until recently, had barely been able to afford to keep clothes on his back.

He should be sneaking cigarettes and getting in trouble at school.

But instead, he was yelling about movies and making robots and getting bullied in the normal way, not the psychological torture crap that had gone down at Benji’s school.

“Because,” he said, voice louder than he wanted. “That’s how life works, okay? You get something good and then it goes away. You enjoy it while you can, and then life goes back to being crap!”

Max’s frown deepened. He blinked, slow and thoughtful. Benji hadn’t seen him think for so long before opening his mouth since their aunt’s funeral.

Finally, he looked up at Benji. “Do you think our life is crap?”

Benji’s breath left him in a whoosh. Part of him wanted to shake him.

The other part was almost… relieved. It meant that Max hadn’t noticed how goddamn tired Benji had been for the past few years.

How miserable. He’d looked at their shitty apartment and their eternal bus rides and Benji wrestling with him on the moth-eaten carpet and thought, yeah, this is alright for me.

“I—” Benji started.

A knock on the door saved him from finishing that sentence.

He ran for it. It was technically early, but he didn’t think about that as he flung the door open. He was too busy thinking about forgetting his worries on a night out with?—

He stopped. The man in the hall wasn’t Noah.

He had Noah’s chin. His tanned skin. The cut of his suit. Even his eyes, a little. But the cologne was too sharp. His smile was wrong. A cheap imitation of Noah’s kindness stretched into a salesman’s smile.

“Hi,” said Michael Stern. “Can I talk to the man of the house?”

Benji lurched into the hallway, slamming the door shut behind him. Whatever this was, he wasn’t letting Max get dragged into it.

“The hell are you doing here?” he asked. He wasn’t going to bother with pretense when the guy had ambushed him at his apartment. “Is Noah okay?”

“Noah’s fine,” Michael said, sounding very bored and even dubious. Like he was saying lines in a play he was never interested in being in. “You know, I expected the teenager who’s using my brother to be more charming.”

“I’m twenty,” Benji said, trying desperately to keep his hackles down. This wasn’t some classmate outside a bar—this was Noah’s brother. Even if he wasn’t the CEO of a billion-dollar company, that shit had consequences .

Michael looked him up and down. Benji had to fight the urge to puff out his shoulders, make himself look like more of a threat. This guy had at least fifty pounds of muscle on him. Benji had more luck scaring a brick wall.

“Look at you,” Michael said. “All dressed up. Pretending to be somebody.”

“I’m just going to a party,” Benji gritted. “Did you want something?”

Michael snorted. He had that smarmy, entitled look that made Benji hate him on principle. The kind of guy who didn’t tip or throw out his trash. The kind of guy who could get away with anything and knew it.

“I want you to stay away from my brother,” Michael said. “I’d try to appeal to your better nature. But I’m not convinced you have any. So, I’m going to threaten you instead.”

“You’re welcome to try,” Benji said, unable to hold back a snarl.

Michael’s eyes glinted, oddly satisfied. He stepped closer, until Benji smelled the eye-watering mint of his breath.

“You’ve had your fun. But it’s over now. Break things off or face the consequences.”

Benji shook his head. “You can’t?—”

“At least tell him just how much you don’t give a shit,” Michael continued.

Benji glared at him. “Fucking excuse me?”

“Tell him,” Michael repeated. “Look. My brother’s sweet. But I don’t buy for one second that you’d date him if he was a poor schmuck like you.”

Benji’s fists shook at his sides. He tried to think of Mr. Frizzle, the calm that had slid over him that first morning after he’d slept with Noah for the first time.

The calm Noah had given him so many times since.

He reached for that feeling, but it was so difficult with Michael looming over him, looking at him like he was dirt under his shoe.

“You don’t know shit,” Benji whispered.

Michael cocked his head. “Don’t I? I think I know a lot.

I know you’ve been fired from every job you’ve ever had.

I know the only thing that stopped you from getting kicked out of high school is that the principal felt sorry for you.

And I know that when you started seeing my brother, you had zero—count 'em— zero savings. Had to think of something fast if you wanted to keep a roof over your head. My only question is, how the fuck did you convince Noah you’re worth keeping around?

Does he like your feral alley cat vibes? Or are you just that good in bed?”

Benji lashed out, shoving Michael into the wall.

Michael grinned. “ There you are. I might have my asshole moments, but you know what? I take care of my own. I’m going to show Noah exactly what you are.”

“Oh yeah?” Benji hissed. “What am I, fuckhead?”

Michael rested his head against the wall. He still had that cocky look, so at ease that it sent a frisson of fear down Benji’s spine.

“Mr. Whitney,” he said softly.

Benji froze.

“Yeah, I bet you remember him,” Michael said. He plucked Benji’s hands off his collar, flicking them away like he was cleaning dirt off his shirt. “Your dear old science teacher. He says you extorted him for twenty thousand dollars. Wiped out a third of his life savings.”

“He was a creep who took up-the-skirt photos of his students,” Benji managed, backing away. “My aunt was sick; we needed to pay medical bills?—”

Michael cut him off. “I can get you kicked out of your apartment. I can get your brother kicked out of school. I’d say I’d make sure you can’t get hired anywhere, but you wouldn’t last long, no matter where you go.

I might have my asshole moments, but I take care of my own.

You come to the gala. You break things off.

Then you stay the fuck away from him. Don’t, and I’ll ruin your life. Understood?”

Benji glared at him, eyes burning.

Michael leaned in. The cocky look was gone, hard steel in its place. “ Understood ?”

Benji jerked his head in a nod.

“Good.” Michael slapped Benji’s shoulder, hard enough that Benji had to fight the knee-jerk urge to lunge at him again. Michael set off down the hall, hands in his pockets. He even whistled.

Benji stood there, a heavy weight sinking in his stomach. That’s what I get, he thought. Letting yourself have something. What a fucking idiot.

He opened the door with numb fingers.

Max looked up from his phone. “Whoa, fast party. Did…? Uh. You okay?”

Benji nodded. He blinked hard, trying to make his eyes stop burning. He felt like an idiot. He knew he couldn’t have this. He knew it would be ripped away. He just expected that it would be from his own fuck ups. He thought he had more time .

Another knock on the door.

“Is this a bit?” Max asked.

“Shut up,” Benji croaked.

He opened the door. Noah stood in the hall, his smile soft and beautiful and so kind that Benji could hardly bear to look at it. How the hell was he going to break things off without hurting him?

Then the smile dimmed. “Benjamin? Are you okay?”

“Fine,” Benji said, trying to look like his heart wasn’t crumbling in on itself. “Let’s go.”