Tough Shit (Rejects Paradise 1)

He grins proudly and follows me into the kitchen. “You haven’t seen the half of it,” he chuffs like a kid in a candy shop as he strides toward a cabinet and opens the floor to ceiling doors. He steps inside the cabinet and my brows furrow.

What the hell is he doing?

I walk over to the cabinet and peer inside only to find it’s not a cabinet at all but a secret door that opens into a private bar. “Holy hell,” I whisper, taking in the massive array of choices behind the bar, the mood lighting, and the seating area. “This is freaking awesome.”

Charles nods, also looking around. “We had it installed last year though I don’t use it as much as I would like to.”

“Well, you’re a busy man.”

Charles’ eyes come back to mine and he watches me for a long second before nodding. “Yes, indeed I am,” he says, walking out of the private bar and gently closing the doors behind him. “Come along. If you’re fond of our bar, then I can only imagine how you’re going to feel about our living area.”

My eyes flick back toward the living area that he’s referring to and I’m stumped. It looks exactly like the rest of them. Well, that’s not exactly fair. They all have their own individuality but they all follow the same sleek, modern awesomeness.

I walk with him and mom’s curiosity gets the best of her as she follows along.

We take the two large steps down into the sunken living area and as we turn the corner and pass the couches and coffee table, we find a massive indoor pool.

“Holy … fuck me in the ass.”

“Language,” mom scolds under her breath, her face flaming with embarrassment as Charles bellows out a laugh.

The pool is shaped somewhat like a beach, shallow at one end with sunbeds fixed in the water. I’ve never seen anything like it. The parties you could have here would be incredible.

Charles digs into his pocket and pulls out his phone before pressing a few buttons and watching the show. The back wall splits in half and begins to fold away, revealing the rest of the pool, half indoor and half out.

“No way,” I breathe, gawking at the way the pool seems to go on forever. I think it falls off the very edge like a waterfall. I cannot wait to explore all of this. I feel like Alice in Wonderland … or maybe someone who’s just been thrown into a fairy tale that wasn’t meant for her. “That’s amazing.”

Charles grins proudly before pointing up, and it’s not lost on me how he’s so happy about his accomplishments. Maybe he really is just a nice guy. Not that I’ve had the pleasure of meeting many billionaires in my life, but I’m assuming things like this are usually lost on them, but not Charles. He still gets a kick out of the little things, and the fact that he’s proud of what he’s created here is a big sign that he’s not the douchebag I assumed he was. Though, looks can be deceiving. I’d be a fool to judge too quickly.

My eyes shoot to the ceiling to find it made of glass, only after pressing yet another button on his phone, the ceiling completely opens up.

Mom’s jaw drops as I stare in wonder.

I can only imagine what my boys would say about this place. Nic would just nod, acting as though he’s not impressed. Sebastian would already be in the pool. Eli would be staring just like mom is while Kairo would have disappeared long ago, searching out Charles’ safe.

The cool morning breeze begins gushing in and Charles is quick to start closing up his epic living space. “Don’t get me wrong. It truly is a sight to see it all open, but when the chill gets into the house like this, it takes nearly all day to heat it up again.”

“I can only imagine,” mom says, her brows up in her hairline, still amazed by what she’s witnessing here.

Charles glances down at his watch before his eyes bug out of his head. “I have to run. Let me show you to your rooms and then I’ll leave you to explore.”

“Of course.”

Charles picks up his pace and mom and I are quick to follow behind. We walk back through the living space and up the opposite side of the kitchen from where we entered.

Charles waves off to the left. “This is the media room where Colton likes to hang out when he’s actually home. The home gym is just … uh-huh. There he is now.” Charles says, making me glance up. “Colton,” he calls.

My head whips around, following Charles’ line of sight. A man is walking out of a room wearing only a pair of grey, low hanging sweatpants with his shirt carelessly thrown over his shoulder.