How to Belong with a Billionaire (Arden St. Ives #3)

by Alexis Hall

“Remember, I live in a dog biscuit factory with a feral person. I honestly can’t remember the last time I was somewhere that looked like home.”

Love isn’t a bus during the rush hour. You don’t have to let people off in order to fit more on.

It’s not the rush that’s real. It’s the follow-through. Find out what something is and then you’ll find out if you love it.”

“Not true. You don’t get fired for fucking people at Oxford. They just tell you that you probably shouldn’t.”

Urrrrrrgh. Having to think about Nathaniel like he was a real person was literally the worst.

“Hi, honey,” I trilled, “I’m home.” She glanced up briefly. “Dinner’s on the table.” “Seriously?” “No. But there’s Coke in the fridge.” “The kind you put in your mouth or up your nose?” “Maybe”—she thought about it—“both?” Ever the optimist, I checked. And it turned out there was only the undrinkable variety. Sigh.

More than once it had crossed my mind that if cats could talk, they’d talk like Ellery.

“What? Shit. Oh no, my jellybeans. What?”

Although probably part of being a responsible grown-up and shit meant you couldn’t get your mum’s girlfriend to handle all your problems for you.

“Okay now you’re just, like, lying to me.”

“I even heard him singing in the office once, when he thought I’d left for the day.” “Caspian can sing?” “Most assuredly he cannot.”

“No, no,” said Nik reassuringly, “past you was a hot mess too.

Obviously I didn’t shoot myself. Because I did, in fact, have a sense of proportion and I also had no idea how to get a gun in the UK.

“The truth is, I taught myself about wine when I came to London. But it shouldn’t be a social mandate, especially if you don’t actually enjoy drinking it.”

Fuck, we were getting into competitive Good Host and Good Guest territory now.

“Dude would take a conference call at his own funeral.”

“Don’t worry about it. I thought it might be funny, but it just turned out stupid. Story of my life, really.”

The man was an entire episode of Queer Eye all on his own. Actually, he was better than an episode of Queer Eye because he seemed legitimately able to cook, and wasn’t just going to put cilantro on top of something and call it a meal.

And then, in quite a different voice, “Oh, there you are. Hello, sweetness. How’s my darling?” For a brief about-to-throw-up-in-my-mouth moment, I thought Caspian had arrived, but it turned out Nathaniel was talking to a cat which had just come into the kitchen.

“What breed is she?” “I’m not sure—she’s a rescue cat.” Of course she was. Of course.

Okay. So. Here’s hoping I never have to hear Nathaniel refer to himself as Daddy again.

“No, Arden. You’re not going to get cat AIDS.” For some reason, it sounded way worse repeated back to me.

HES SO ME

“Likewise.” I gave him a withering look and he had the grace to blush.

“They were, but then Little Timmy was taken by the sweating sickness.

“Hey”—probably I should have kept my mouth shut but I was feeling aggrieved on way too many levels—“you had a go at me for bringing white wine this evening.”

“Arden, my Arden,” he said, his voice still full of mirth, and this infinite gentleness, “what has happened to you? Have you forgotten how to human?”

Snide!Nathaniel was probably my least favourite Nathaniel. And believe me, there was a lot of competition.

Unfortunately, in practice, I just end up being a dick at dinner parties.”

Welp. Now I hated him again.

“I hope my sister isn’t being a bad influence on you.” “She hasn’t broken my heart yet, so I think that puts her well ahead of the family average.”

Guess that put us 1:1 on diners behaving badly.

“I will not,” we said in unison.

“Stop saying that.” Oh fuck me. I was yelling. “I’m not his friend. I loved him. I still do. And I’m going home.” Reader, I got the fuck out.

“I’m not going to be nice to someone just because they’re in a wheelchair.” Ellery subjected me to her most withering stare. “That would be ableist.”

“I’m a death princess of darkness.

don’t mean to be ungrateful or anything but…was this always the plan?” “Obviously.” “Then why did you leave me stewing out there for so long?” “Dunno. Thought it was funny.”

“You’re talking to a queer boy, Ellery. I’ve always wanted to be a princess.”

“Oh, okay. I’ll get an AR-15 then. Thanks, Arden.”

“Don’t pity-objectify me.”

Nik snorted. “Did you read that on Tumblr?”

and whether it was ever acceptable to beat up an old man just in case he turned out to be a wererat like the last guy.

Things that may not be are infinitely beautiful. Things that are…well, they tend to be tedious.”

“To…truly want something,” I heard myself say, “is to make yourself vulnerable.”

“Although I heard there’s been some new legislation, so now the straights are allowed to have feelings too.”

but when it comes down to the colours of your dreams, and whatever makes your heart fly, and the things that really matter, you always get to choose.” “Choose what?” “What you take with you and what you leave behind.” I let out a shaky breath. “Because that’s all change is.”

Turns out the grown-ups had been right all along: Don’t do drugs, kids.

“You. Did. What?” “I. Did. Drugs.”

“Since the incident with my sister and the tabloids, I’ve had a Google alert for you.”

you big fucking nerd!!!!!! you are such a simp you just haven’t accepted it yet

That was a total lie, for the record. I’d been wanting to hear this for months.