Page 43 of Balance

I trusted him. I trusted him with everything, and maybe I shouldn’t. Maybe Jett was right, and it was better to be safe than sorry, but there was no universe in which I could imagine Troye suing me. Or my company. It would be a hard case to prove anyway. Most of our conversations about the game had happened in person. Troye had no way to prove that the ideas had come from his mouth.

But I knew.

And Jett knew.

And Troye knew.

And I understood why Jett didn’t trust easily, but by now he should be able to trust me and the fact that he wouldn’t, or couldn’t, didn’t sit right with me.

“Is something wrong?” Troye asked.

Under the table, his foot bumped against mine, and I thought it might’ve been an accident, but then his foot didn’t move. It stayed there, a steady pressure to reassure me that he wasn’t going anywhere.

“Do you remember Jett?”

Troye’s frown didn’t smooth away. “Yeah. He’s your business partner. The other half of Gemstone. Is he okay?”

“He’s fine. As far as I know.” I sucked in a breath and raked my hand through my hair as I exhaled, already exhausted from carrying this around with me for weeks. “He’s upset with me is all.”

“Oh, shit. How come?”

“Well… see… he knows that the bulk of the premise for the foster village game came from you, and he asked me to have you sign some releases or waivers basically saying that you can’t sue us for using these ideas. It’s either that or hire you, and if you’re not agreeable to either of those things, he insists on pulling the plug on the project and starting over with a new premise.”

By the time I was done talking, I was so tired it felt like my bones would turn to dust. Troye stared at me like he’d just met me, and I feared the worst.

“The last thing I want is for you to think that I don’t trust you. I do.”

“But Jett doesn’t,” Troye stated, his expression calm.

“He doesn’t. But to be fair, Jett doesn’t trust anyone.”

“I mean… he’s allowed to be protective of his company. And if it would make him feel better, I’ll sign whatever you need me to sign. I know that I’d never drag you to court over this, and you know that I’d never drag you to court, but he doesn’t know that.”

“You’ll sign?” Relief washed through me, soothing the month-long ache in my bones.

“Of course, I’ll sign. How long ago did he ask you?”

“Not long after you came to work with me that day.”

“That was over a month ago,” Troye chastised me. “Why didn’t you ask me sooner?”

“I didn’t want you to think that I didn’t trust you. Or that I was only out to use you or something.”

Troye tipped his head back and laughed. “Oh, I’m sorry. You’re sweet, but kind of ridiculous.” Troye leaned across the table, and the heat in his gaze went from zero to inferno in a blink. “In case it has escaped your attention, I want to be your good boy, and I want to be your smart boy. The boy with the ideas. I want to help, and I want you to do whatever is necessary to let me. I want you to use me, in every sense of the word.”

If we were anywhere else, I’d have hauled him to the bathroom and fucked him right there, but this was a family establishment and not some club with a dingy bathroom and a bowl of condoms on the sink.

“You’ve been very agreeable today, sweetheart. I think someone has earned a reward.”

“I think we need to leave. Like now. Like ten minutes ago.” Troye downed the rest of his drink and stood, prompting me to follow his lead.

As the daddy in the relationship, I was supposed to be in charge, theoretically. But Troye and I didn’t operate like that most of the time. We were daddy and boy in bed only for the most part. Troye could run his own life and make his own decisions. He could manage himself and his emotions and didn’t want or need someone taking over his every decision or ruling over his every waking moment.

But sometimes he liked the world to go away. Sometimes, he liked to let go and let me shoulder everything. Sometimes he liked the freedom of not having to make decisions or choose or even think. All he had to do was feel.

Though his set-up was at his place, he spent an increasing amount of time at mine. Sometimes only leaving to go home and stream and then he’d be right back, asking if I minded that he was there again. The truth was that I minded it more when he left.

Soon, I planned on asking him if he wanted to live with me, but I worried that I was moving too fast. I’d never met anyone who fit me the way Troye fit me, and the last thing I wanted was to scare him away.