Page 48 of Secretary's Obsession

“Then what say we chase them together?” George moved beneath him and hugged him tighter. “Talkin’, it’s the only way to sort out things.”

“So, I’ll tell you when something is bothering me, and you won’t be cross with me?” He sounded pathetic, except this was important. His family had always shut him down, and it had become a habit to keep his thoughts to himself. He needed to break free of old habits.

George growled. “I’ll say it again, your family has got a lot to answer for.” He kissed Scott on the cheek. “Yep, I want you to talk about whatever is on your mind.”

The sincerity was genuine and unraveled the knots in his belly. “Maybe it’s time I told my parents how they made me feel.” As hesaid it, Scott understood that if he was ever really going to move forward, then he needed to offload the burden of his past.

“If you feel that’s the right thing to do, then I’ll support you.”

You’re going to go and tell them how you feel, good luck with that.

Not helping.

They showed us nothing but contempt.

Yes, and it’s time they know we aren’t putting up with that any longer.

Scott met George’s gaze. “I do. Only I think I need to do it now, otherwise…”

“Let’s eat before we go, so they don’t spoil our appetite.”

Scott chuckled at how serious George was. He shuffled off his lap and stood. “What do you fancy?” It was easier to keep his attention on a task rather than think about what he was going to say to his parents.

“Homemade patties, mushrooms, onions, and heaps of cheese, maybe a few fries.” George got up and followed him. “I did a grocery shop this morning so we should have everything we need.”

They worked together, and Scott liked the rhythm of it. He cleaned up as they went, but it wasn’t manic. George talked about the contract Scott would draw up and the benefits, and by the time they sat to eat, Scott didn’t bother to clear off the clutter on the table.

The atmosphere was much like it had been at breakfast, and it stopped the nervous anxiety Scott lived with constantly. George’s presence, when he allowed it, soothed him. His bear was easy going.

When George took his plate and glass to the sink, Scott followed in companionable silence as they finished the cleanup.

George took the dishtowel from Scott’s hands after he twisted it for the third time. “We don’t have to go—”

He shook his head. “No, I do.” He rolled his shoulders and reached for George’s hand. “Don’t let go.”

“Never,” George answered, squeezing his fingers.

In a blink, they were in Scott’s bedroom—storeroom, and he didn’t so much as glance about to see what else they had shoved in there. No, he was done worrying about the disrespect. He opened the door and listened out, then followed the sounds of voices. Only there was a voice he wasn’t expecting to hear that drove him to quicken his pace. What the hell was the king doing here?

Fuck, had his parents followed through on their threats?

“What is it?” George whispered.

“The king is here!” he hissed back, hurrying. “They better not be trying to separate us.” Fury, the kind that he’d felt at George’s disappearance, came and fueled the need to stop his parents.

He more dragged than walked George into the large room his parents used for visitors. It was pretentious and ostentatious. Gold and red were the color theme, his father's attempt to mimic that of the throne room the demon king had. It looked like someone had vomited gold and red all over the room in a nasty pattern.

Asmodeus sat on an ornate chair his father liked to use. His face revealed none of his thoughts as he glanced at Scott while his parents, sitting on the most uncomfortable couch, failed to notice his arrival.

“I mean, it’s an impossible situation. A bear, of all things,”—his father shuddered—“it’ll bring disgrace on to our name. There must be something you can—”

“How dare you,” Scott said with barely controlled rage at what he was hearing. “The disgrace is you, not George. He is my blissful one.”

His parents' heads turned in his direction and Scott could see the disdain and disappointment—the two things he’d lived with his whole life. No more. George gave him courage and unconditional love, he needed nothing else.

“See, the boy, he’s under the influence of that… creature,” his father spat out. “Scott would never speak to us like that.”

Scott came forward, George’s fingers clasping his, helping him to focus. “Because I was always shut down. Made to feel less. Like I had nothing of value to contribute when I didn’t look the same.”

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