Page 104 of The Chameleon

Life was too short and precious to hold on to grudges.

34

ARES

How the fuck did he become a father to a bunch of adult man-children? Somehow, over the past two months, he had become a babysitter and father to a bunch of out-of-control, horny little shits who were apparently allergic to clothes and didn’t like hearing the wordno!

Take Isaac, for instance. Last week, he had the nerve to ask Ares if he could cosign for a Lamborghini with him, claiming that he needed it as an emotional support vehicle. Once Ares stopped laughing his ass off, he explained to the little shit that there were other ways for Isaac to carry all of his emotional baggage besides driving it around in a hundred-thousand-euro car.

The boy muttered something under his breath about “Daddy M being a much better parent,” but Ares didn’t care enough to ask the little shit to speak up.

Now here Ares was, hostingstrippers guildbreakfast for Matteo’s band of misfit boys.

Daddy M, as the boys like to call him, had to go away for a few days to take care of some urgent business, so he asked Ares to stay over and keep an eye on the kids.

Boys?

Guys?

Jesus, what do you call twenty-something full-grown beings who choose to act like children?

Well, some of them.

Like the big muscly one from the army who keeps going for jogs with a boner. Seriously. That guy needs to get his testosterone levels checked because that shit’s not normal.

Even when Ares was a horny-as-fuck teenager, he never got boners every time he went for a jog.

That boy has some major problems.

“Mornin’, Daddy A,” the one with the purple eyes announced as he plopped himself into the chair next to Ares.

“Don’t call me that,” Ares growled, passing the kid a plate and then pointing toward the coffee.

“What?”

“Don’t call meDaddy A.”

“But Daddy A’s the one giving it to Daddy M. If we call you both Daddy, how will you ever know who we are talking to?” the blue-haired one asked before taking a seat across the table from Mr. Purple Eyes.

Jesus. Perhaps he should start trying to learn their names.

But there were so many of them.

All running around, sticky, dancing on poles, and shaking their…

“I’m not your daddy,” Ares finally responded, passing… Isaac?… a plate as well.

Both boys grinned at him.

Fuck. Maybe he was a daddy.

“Morning, Daddy A,” Chase announced, planting a kiss on the purple-eyed one before taking a seat next to him.

Levi! His name was Levi.

Maybe he should get them dog collars? Have their names printed on them and everything.

Ares’s lip turned upward in a half smirk.

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