Rich Bastard {mxm}

Twenty One.

"Money brings me a great feeling, but nothing like this," -C.T

"What does being in love feel like?"

I narrowed my eyes as I scrolled down on my phone, reading various articles. Now that I knew that my heart wasn't beating because I was breathing fast, but because it was too busy beating trying to get me to breathe in his presence.

I was such a fool. I mean, why him? He literally slammed straight into me, spilling fruit punch all over my precious Armani when we first met. He took to insulting me straight off the bat. "What is happening?" I mumbled to myself, reading through some of the signs that meant that you were past the point of having a crush. "Everything becomes so much easier when you're with them," I read to myself, hating that I agreed with it.

It was just unfortunate luck that he came to the bar that night to collect me. I didn't expect him to pull me into his arms, nor did I expect for me to just break down into tears. I was Cheyenne Alexander Thorn, a man who didn't show a single thread of emotion. If my own best friend, who I have known for 20 years, never got the chance to hear me vent or shed a singular tear, what made someone who wasn't even anywhere near my level any different?

I didn't love at all, I was too scared to let anyone close enough for me to do so. "You can be yourself when you're with that person. No need for walls or anything because they have already seen the real you," I looked at my hand, a sudden feeling dawning on me.

The facade, the mask that I kept on for the last eight years, perfecting it until there were no holes, no cracks, no chinks. It had become apart of me, something I knew I couldn't live without because I didn't want to be exposed. But as I remember the warm feeling of being in someone else's arms without a single care in the world, I knew that somewhere along the way, that poor boy destroyed that mask.

Why? When did that happen? Why did I let it happen? Most importantly, what was I gonna do about it? I couldn't let this consume me. I couldn't have this type of emotion with someone like Joaquin. We were just two different people from very different worlds. 

"First rule of trying to get a job," Joaquin spoke as he leaned on the doorway, folding his arms with an unamused smirk. I nearly jumped in fear as I sat up against the surface of his truck do. "No phones allowed. It's a distraction and you could potentially ruin the customer's meal," He teased, motioning for me to follow him inside the shabby restaurant.

He held the door open for me and I cringed at the way that it squeaked loudly, wondering if he worked at some hole in the wall, not getting enough money. 

"You're going to meet my boss," He sighed, grasping the small of my back to lead me forward. I unconsciously blushed with wide eyes, unsure of how to handle this. "Just let me handle it. It took a lot for me to convince him," I didn't think he was unaware of what he was doing to me and I hated that I automatically saw a halo around him whenever I looked at him.

I had to stop this.

We soon stopped in front of a tall man with big muscles and dark brown hair, his brown eyes immediately landing on me. He had various tattoos and scars plaguing his arms, some that looked like they were a result of gruesome activity.

"Boss, this is Cheyenne Thorn, the guy I was talking to you about," I was taken aback by the man's cold gaze scanning me up and down with a sneer as if I had done something to him. "Cheyenne, this is Wyatt Perry, the boss of this here establishment," I nodded to him, noting that he didn't make a move to hold out his hand. 

"Nice to meet you," I muttered quietly as Wyatt just stood there, folding his arms, staring at me and I frowned, wondering what his issue was. "Joaquin, you dare bring someone like him into my place?" He raised a brow and Joaquin sighed, not knowing what to say. I could see the vehement judgment in his eyes, rearing its ugly head with a snarl.