Page 23 of A Merry Penthouse Christmas
“See you two tonight.”
The smirk Skylar tosses me before they leave does not help my spiral.
The question remains: whatdoI want?
Because I’m not sure I know.
ARIK
Slowistheworstinvention mankind has ever attempted. We aren’t built for slow. We aren’t built for patience.
At least I’m not.
Although I can’t deny that every new thing I have learned about Beau has me more charmed than I already was. It is so much more than the physical appeal of him, like the way his curls fall into his eyes. The dip of his chin when he’s being bashful. The color that fills his cheeks when I flirt with him.
How snuggly his jeans hug his thighs.
But as much as I do enjoy those things, most appealing might be the way he adores Bastian. And young as Bastian is to even grasp his surroundings, I think he adores Beau too.
Whether Beau adores me remains to be seen.
The past week, he’s been pulling away from me. My recent ploy—no, tactic? What does one call the pursuit of someone without making it sound like hunting wild game or pulling off a heist? Method of wooing? Let’s go with that one. But while I thought said method was paying off, it suddenly took a nosedive last week with no explanation, and he’s been distant toward me ever since.
I thought I was understanding Beau better and leaving him wanting just enough that he should have realized by now he wants me too.
Where did I go wrong?
Finally, after noticing all the printed photographs pinned to the refrigerator door with Christmas magnets, I decide on my next course of action.
The photos are all mostly of Bastian in various adorable outfits. One I remember Gabby taking has Beau holding Bastian with me in it too, brushing my thumb across Bastian’s forehead and smiling, but I’m not smiling at the camera or at Bastian. I’m smiling at Beau, just him with far too much affection.
I wonder if he’s noticed. I don’t think I did until now.
But I do know I need to fix this, and that means returning to the forum with:
DiamondDaddy:
Damage Control
Thesheeramountof“I told you so’s” in the comments later makes me a little grudging to except the advice, but it’s difficult to deny the truth when they remind me that they did tell me to talk to Beau first, and if I had, I might have avoided this fallout.
The biggest problem is that as much as I want to talk to him now, I can’t. Between him avoiding me, and me getting pulled away from the penthouse due to work every time I think he might be ready, I’m going to miss my chance.
So I’ve made up my mind. I’m talking to him tonight, and if this damn merger tries to pull me away again,fuck it.
“Are you certain you don’t want this gift-wrapped, Mr. Anders?” the woman at the checkout counter asks me.
“No thank you. It’s not ready to be wrapped yet.”
One of the single fathers from the forum brought up love languages, and I have no idea which is mine or which might be Beau’s, but I can definitely do gift giving. Nothing expensive. It can’t be about the price tag but about the perceived value of something personal.
I’m terrible at personal, but I think I figured out the best possible present to help break the ice—and only one week till Christmas.
Bolstered to dive into the deep end, I arrive home to an eerily quiet apartment. Maybe Beau went out with Bastian again. He’s been taking him out more and more lately.
“Beau?”
I circle around through the living room, wondering if he’s finally putting up the Christmas tree. He had planned to weeks ago but still hasn’t gotten to it.
