Page 5 of The House Guest

He looked at me a few moments. “You’re definitely interesting, Primrose. I’ll give you that.”

“And you’re still a bit of a mystery to me, Dorian.”

“How so?”

“That first night, I thought you were a pompous prick. But then you softened. And now, I come to find out you have impeccable movie taste. So you can’t be all bad.”

“I’m glad you no longer think I’m a prick. I’m really not. I have dickish moments, but overall, I like to think I’m a good person.”

“Still lots to figure out when it comes to you, though.”

“Like what?” He crossed his arms and leaned back.

I hesitated, unsure whether to continue.

“You never came to visit your dad, for one. You were always spoken of almost in whispers. I just don’t know what to make of you.

Not really much of an opportunity to get to know you, either, since you’re never home.

If you hadn’t walked in here tonight, I might’ve doubted whether you were still living here. ”

He nodded. “I’ve been spending a lot of time trying to figure out the mess my father left behind.

It’s easier to do that at his office. But I’d be lying if I didn’t say this house unnerves me.

Too many memories here.” Dorian turned toward me.

“I’m trying to keep busy outside the mansion so it never actually registers.

I’m not sure if my father being gone has even truly hit me yet.

Living in denial and throwing myself into work is pretty much how I’m handling things. ”

He looked up at the recessed lighting. “Dad and I had our issues. But there was so much more I needed to learn from him, things I wish I could say, but I’ll never have a chance to. A lot was left unresolved. I feel like I’m still in shock.” He sighed. “Despite our differences, he was all I had.”

The room was so quiet you could hear a pin drop. My chest felt heavy with emotion as I absorbed his words. “I can relate to that feeling,” I said softly.

He brushed his thumb along the velvet of the armrest. “Your aunt, you mean?”

I shook my head. “No. My mother. I lost her a few years ago. She was all I had. And my father was never in the picture. That’s why I moved in with Christina and your dad. Christina was my mom’s only sibling.”

“So, Christina was the closest relative you had left?”

I nodded. “Growing up, Christina and I weren’t that close.

She was always traveling. She was my mom’s younger, wilder sister—the dreamer.

I always wished to know her better. But she was never in one place.

When my mother died, Christina made an effort for the first time to be a part of my life. And I appreciated that. ”

He frowned. “I’m sorry. I know I minimalized her when we first met. I don’t know if she was a gold digger. I never tried to get to know her. It was easier to believe my father was being used than to consider that he had a genuine, loving relationship with someone who wasn’t my mother.”

“I get that.” I nodded. “And look…” I chuckled. “She might’ve been a gold digger. I don’t know, either. Like you, I believe what’s easiest to digest.”

He looked away. “I guess we’ll never know now, will we?”

I thought we might need a new subject. “What is it that your father’s company does? I’ve been afraid to ask because I feel like I should know.”

“It’s okay.” Dorian smiled. “Dad started out as a physicist. He developed many products over the years. I can’t talk about anything currently in development because of intellectual property issues.

But in the past, he created solar-powered orbital devices and synapse glass that responds to brainwave sequences.

He sold his inventions to huge corporations over the years.

And there are many more still in the process of being sold. ”

“Wow.” I nodded. “What did you study in school?”

“Well, I wasn’t given much of a choice. My father essentially told me that if I didn’t follow in his footsteps, I would lose my inheritance. He insisted that I study physics for undergrad and get my master’s in business. So that’s what I did. The plan was always for me to take over.”

“That wasn’t what you wanted?”

“If I’d had my way, I probably would’ve majored in music, so no. ”

“Really…”

“Yeah. I was in a band when I was younger, much to my father’s chagrin.”

“What did you play?”

“Bass.”

“Do you still play?”

“I dabble in it when I’m alone. But nothing on the regular.” He stared down at his hands. “I envy you for pursuing what you love.”

“But let’s face it,” I admitted. “Majoring in art is not the wisest career choice.”

“Knowing that didn’t stop you, though. That says a lot about you. You’re willing to take a risk for the chance to do something you love.” He looked into my eyes. “I think on some level, you know you have true skills, which makes it easier to take that risk. You must realize you’re truly talented.”

My face felt flushed. “I assumed you thought my monkeys were ridiculous.”

“They are on the surface. But they’re realistic as hell. And original. The more I think about it, the more impressed I am.” He shrugged. “And I’m jealous that you’re doing something you love.”

“Well, thank you,” I said, filling with pride. “Even if music isn’t your career, can’t you get back into it as a hobby?”

“I’m a little too busy right now for hobbies. Talk to me in thirty years.”

“How old are you?” I asked.

“Twenty-eight.” He arched a brow. “How old are you? ”

“How old do you think I am?”

“Well, given that you’re in college, I want to say…nineteen?”

My mouth dropped open. “Do I look nineteen?”

“Yes.” He smirked.

I couldn’t tell if he was serious. “I’m twenty-three, actually. Got a bit of a late start on the college front.”

“Where are you from originally?”

“Cincinnati.”

He nodded. “Are you hungry?” he asked after a moment.

“I could eat.”

“Up for a midnight snack?”

“Always.” I grinned.

Dorian stood, and I grabbed the popcorn bowl, following him out of the theater. On the way up the stairs, I couldn’t help noticing how nicely his dark jeans hugged his ass. Attractive from every angle, apparently.

Once upstairs, Dorian looked around the large, all-white kitchen. “I haven’t eaten here since I moved back. I have no idea what we have or where anything is.”

“I’m due to go grocery shopping,” I said. “So I don’t have much to offer you from my personal stash besides Diet Coke.”

We rummaged through the pantry, which contained several cans of the same exact item.

I reached for one and laughed. “Enough caviar?”

“My dad’s favorite. Imported, made from sturgeon originating in the Caspian Sea. He always said it’s the best.”

“I’ve never eaten caviar,” I said, scrunching my nose. “Not sure I’d like it. ”

“Well, no one else is gonna eat this.” He took the can from me. “You wanna try it?”

“How do you eat it?”

“Usually crackers, but I don’t see that we have any.” He grabbed a bag of something in the corner. “Hot Cheetos?”

“Hot Cheetos and caviar?” I shrugged. “Why not?”

“I bet these were my dad’s, too. He loved spicy shit.” A look of sadness crossed his face as he stared down at the bag.

I interrupted his haze. “The reality hits in waves, doesn’t it?”

“Yeah,” he murmured. Taking a deep breath, he forced a smile. “Let’s take these out to the table.”

Dorian and I sat at the breakfast nook in the corner of the kitchen that featured a window overlooking the ocean. It was dark out now, so we couldn’t see much. Through the glass, we could hear the waves crashing, though.

He opened a can of caviar and the bag of Cheetos. After dipping one of the cheese puffs into the caviar, he handed it to me across the table.

I took a bite and chewed for a while. “It’s salty. But in an obnoxious way.” Licking my lips, I added, “I feel like these two foods are a pretty accurate representation of the two of us. You’re caviar, by the way. And I’m the Cheetos.”

He took a bite. “I’m…overrated, obnoxious, and salty?”

“Basically.” I smiled.

“And you’re cheesy as all hell.” He winked.

“You were supposed to tell me I’m hot .”

His eyes seared into mine. “I don’t need to tell you that. ”

My face felt hotter than the darn Cheetos now.

“Okay, hot’s the obvious one.” He lifted a Cheeto. “But from my observations, there are better reasons why you’re similar to this Cheeto.”

“Do tell.” I wiped the corner of my mouth.

“You’re bold. Moving across the country to follow your dreams and now having to face an uncertain future, yet with a smile on your face most of the time—that’s a very bold thing.

To smile in the face of uncertainty and tragedy is probably one of the greatest skills anyone can hold in life.

” He paused. “You also leave an impression. Just like these do.”

“Heartburn?”

He shook his head and chuckled. “No.”

“Well, thank you. I feel like I need to reciprocate—but I can’t exactly call you fishy.” I winked.

As we continued to munch and make easy conversation, I hoped this wouldn’t be the last late-night snack session I’d get to have with Dorian. I enjoyed his company.

When I licked the spicy seasoning off my fingers, I noticed the way his eyes fell to my lips, following the motion of my tongue.

And suddenly my tongue wasn’t the only thing burning up.