TAKE ME HOME (9 page)

“Stop pacing.”

Kyle stopped and glared down at Evan. “You shouldn’t have done that.”

“What?”

“Come at the guy. That was fucking stupid.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.” He balled his fists, wanting to punch the shit out of something. He also wanted—

needed—to do something else. “Come here.” Neither made a move for a moment, then Evan stood, and Kyle went to him. He reached for Evan’s shirt and lifted it again.

Evan swiped at his hand. “I said I’m fine.”

Kyle ignored him and raised the shirt higher. No bruising. Nothing swollen. He poked at Evan’s stomach in several places. Evan didn’t flinch. He tightened his abs. Damn, all those trips to the gym were paying off. Evan had more definition than Kyle had ever seen on him. He dropped the shirt before he did something stupid like fall to his knees and press a soft kiss where Evan had been hit.

“Satisfied?” Evan asked.

“I guess. You still shouldn’t have done that.”

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“Well, you’re the one who went looking when I said we should call the cops.”

“Are you saying you almost getting your ass killed is my fault?”

“I didn’t say that.”

“I’m going to have a look around.” He headed down the hall and searched each room, trying not to think about the vision he’d seen earlier of a dead Evan lying in his own blood on the floor of the living room.

He found the bathroom window open. There was a ledge outside that ran from under the window to the other end of the building. A staircase led to more apartments thirty feet to the right. It looked possible to reach the ledge from the steps, but only a desperate man would make the climb. They were four floors up, and the ledge was less than a foot wide. How had that strung-out loser who couldn’t swing a bat managed it?

It didn’t look like the asshole had gone through the bathroom cabinets or drawers, but he’d searched in Kyle’s room. He must have made his way there after Kyle had gone to the living room. The closet door was open and a lamp on top of the dresser had been knocked over. The asshole had rifled the contents of the dresser drawers but had only made it through the bottom two. Then he must have heard Kyle coming down the hall.

Maybe the junkie would’ve gone back out the window if Kyle hadn’t startled him. Maybe he wouldn’t have hurt Evan.

Kyle gripped the top of the dresser in both hands. He shouldn’t touch anything, but he couldn’t help himself. He kicked the bottom drawer in and cursed when his bare toes connected with the wood.

“Stupid fucker.”

He wasn’t sure who he meant. The asshole who’d broken in. Or himself.

Evan resisted the urge to touch Kyle’s hand as Kyle sat beside him on the couch and handed him a glass of water. “Thanks.”

Kyle grunted a reply, his elbows on his knees, his head hanging low.

Somewhere during the last hour, Kyle had gone from being pissed at Evan to stoic silence to what looked like pissed at himself.

It was two a.m., and they had just finished giving their statements to the police. The officers had said there were several other breakins reported in the apartment complex that night.

The two cops were now looking over Kyle’s place to fill in the details of their report.

Evan tapped the side of Kyle’s knee with his own. “Hey.” Kyle raised his head.

They held the stare for a moment, and Evan added, “Sorry you missed the end of your dream.”

Kyle fell back against the couch cushion and huffed out a laugh.

Evan did the same. “It was a good one?”

“Yeah.” Kyle smirked. “Jake Gallagher was in it.”

“Yeah?” He bumped Kyle’s knee again. “Share, man. No keeping that one to yourself.” Take Me Home

43

“You and I were at a table in Castillo’s.” Kyle stretched out and lifted his feet to the coffee table, his hands tucked behind his head. “The place was dark and empty except us. Jake came in the front door and walked right to our table. He was wearing a sleeveless shirt and was packing some serious muscles, like in his last film. He looked determined. Then he said, ‘There’s something I forgot to give you.’” Kyle paused as one of the officers stepped into the hallway.

When he didn’t appear at the end of the hall, Kyle continued. “Then Jake leaned down and kissed you.”

“Me?”

Kyle nodded and shifted his ass on the couch. He was getting hard, his cock starting to tent the shorts he’d slipped on before the cops got there.

“You were turned on watching him with me?”

“No.” Kyle dropped his arms to his sides and shifted his weight to turn in Evan’s direction.

“It was the next part.”

“We’re finished here.”

Evan jumped at the cop’s voice. He stood. Kyle didn’t. Which was a good idea. What with his current condition. There was no need to hide the fact they were gay—this was West Hollywood, after all—but sporting a stiff one was probably not the best way to talk to the cops after a robbery and assault. Unless they were in a porno and the cops were going to join them in bed. Would Kyle like that? Had he ever been with more than one guy at a time? Evan filed that away as something he’d never ask. He didn’t want to know. No matter how hot Kyle would make it sound.

The cop finished writing in his notebook. “I don’t think you’ll have any more trouble.

Probably a guy strung out, looking for cash. Most of the robberies in this neighborhood over the past month have been like that.”

The second cop entered the room and glared at Kyle on the couch while Evan spoke. “We appreciate you coming by.” When the officers headed for the door, Evan reached for one of the pillows on the couch and tossed it at Kyle’s lap.

Kyle hissed with the weight of the pillow. “Thanks.”

Evan tried not to laugh as he followed the officers to the door. “We’re going to be gone until after New Year’s.”

The one who’d done most of the talking said, “Best we can advise is lock up tight and don’t keep your valuables here while you’re gone. These small-time thieves haven’t been hitting the same places twice, so you should be safe from a repeat breakin.” Evan opened the door and thanked the officers again.

After they left, Kyle stood and threw the pillow to the couch. “I’m going to bed.” His voice was gruff, and he moved down the hall in a stiff walk. Evan laughed again but let the sound die as Kyle closed the door to his room without a look back.

So much for speaking again. Evan picked up the pages of his script. He was done trying to work, even if he couldn’t fall asleep right away. He wanted to know more about the dream, about what had gotten Kyle so turned on.

He headed down the hall and hesitated outside Kyle’s door. He heard the sound of slick skin over skin, an occasional grunt, the bed shifting. Evan couldn’t move. Either forward or 44

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back. He’d heard Kyle jerking off before. He’d always gone on about his business and given his friend a little privacy. Now…

Why couldn’t he walk in there? Why couldn’t he let them have this one night?

He leaned his forehead against the closed bedroom door, listening to the sound of Kyle’s heavy breathing, the sound of his hand moving faster and faster.

Evan clutched the doorknob in his fist.

He’d just have to live with the fantasy. That’s all he’d have.

Then what was he doing?

He twisted the handle, and the door creaked as he pushed in. Every sound from Kyle stopped. The room was dark. The low light from the hall didn’t help Evan see Kyle on the bed, not even an outline of his body. Maybe he’d ask Kyle to wait a minute before he started jerking off again, at least until Evan’s eyes adjusted and he could watch him come. Too bad he couldn’t get his voice to work.

Despite the darkness, Kyle had to know Evan was standing there.

The sound of a hand moving over slick flesh started again. Slow at first, then picking up speed until it sounded faster than it had before he’d opened the door. Kyle’s grunts of pleasure grew louder.

That had Evan undone. He ached and wanted nothing more than to touch himself, to come with Kyle. He spun around and sped out of the room, leaving Kyle’s door open, then the one to the guest room he’d been staying in. He dropped the script to the nightstand, slipped off his clothes, and got on the bed. He could still hear Kyle through the open doors.

He grabbed a bottle of lube from the nightstand drawer and slicked his cock. Only it wasn’t his cock he pictured his hand on. He was touching Kyle, stroking the hard, sleek flesh in time with the sound of Kyle’s movements from across the hall.

He’d never had a chance to touch Kyle like that, never had that dick in his mouth. He pictured running his lips and tongue over Kyle’s dick, his chest, his balls, his ass.

Evan’s abs tightened, the steady rhythm of his hand giving way to more sporadic tugs.

A low moan came from the other room. Then, “Oh God, Ev.” That did it. Evan slapped the headboard above his head with his free hand as pleasure shot through him. Ribbons of cum spurted up and landed on his chest, his body jerking with the orgasm.

When he finally finished coming, all he heard in the darkness was heavy breathing. From himself. From Kyle.

How the hell was he going to make it in their small bedroom on the train? There had better not be a limit on how many showers he could take.

Take Me Home

45

Kyle sat at the kitchen table, staring at his e-mail. One hundred and eight new messages. In the past twenty-four hours alone. He hadn’t opened his e-mail since early the day before, hoping the focus would help him figure out where to start the new book.

So much for that idea.

He had less than an hour until they needed to get going to catch the flight to San Francisco.

He scrolled through the messages as he drank coffee from one of the two mugs Sue Ann had sent him as an early Christmas present. Blue novelty mugs that were covered with white lettering, spelling out the names of famous authors, Kyle’s name printed in larger letters amid the others.

The note with the mugs had said, I know how much you need your coffee to write.

He sure as hell needed something. Coffee in a novelty mug meant to boost his ego but did the exact opposite probably wasn’t going to cut it. Maybe she thought he was as easy as most guys found him and all it would take to get him going was his name in large print between more prolific authors like Stephen King and J.K. Rowling.

Almost all the e-mails in his inbox were from readers asking about the next book. Most indicated what they hoped would happen in it. If they were like the rest he’d gotten in the past year, half would want Mac with the cop, and the other half would want him with his old friend.

Kyle really needed to let his publicist deal with the e-mail. The messages were seriously fucking with him. No, that was a cop-out. His writer’s block had nothing to do with the fans.

He scanned the inbox again and located a message from Sue Ann.

As we discussed yesterday, I’m looking forward to your pages after the New Year. I can’t tell you how excited I am to finally find out who Mac ends up with. Let me know how it’s going.

Sue Ann.

He scoffed and closed his e-mail.

Who Mac ends up with.

Yeah, he’d like to know too. The cop and the best friend had been flirting with Mac for two books, and Kyle still had no idea what to do about that.

Who the hell was he kidding? He had no idea what to do about any of the damn story.

He heard Evan approach from behind and pause in the doorway. Then Evan crossed the room and went to the cupboard next to the sink. He got out the matching coffee mug from Sue Ann and hesitated again, his back to Kyle. Finally, he filled the mug and turned around, his gaze on the coffee he held close to his lips.

Kyle shut down his laptop. Evan leaned back against the kitchen counter and sipped his coffee while he stared at the tile floor.

The silence was more annoying than going to bed alone rock hard the night before. “All packed?” Kyle asked.

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“Yep.” Evan took another drink of the coffee.

“Got all the gifts?”

“Yep.”

“We should get going soon.”

“Yeah.”

“Want me to call a cab?”

“I took care of it,” Evan said. “It’ll be here in half an hour.”

“Good.”

More silence. Evan sipped his coffee again, still watching the floor. Kyle made a show of leaning over the side of his chair and looking at the floor beside him like he was inspecting the tile for whatever the hell made it so interesting. When Evan didn’t respond, Kyle said, “We should’ve just fucked if it’s going to be like this.”

Evan finally raised his head. “Like what?”

“Weird like this.” Kyle gestured with an arm through the air, indicating the space between them. “Like when you fuck a guy and accidentally fall asleep in his bed. You just know the next morning he’s thinking it meant something you stayed. You want to take off but can’t bring yourself to hurt his feelings.” He didn’t want to examine why he’d chosen that example. He stood and stepped into Evan’s space. Evan flinched in response. “Wasn’t listening to me jerk off last night good for you?”

“Believe me, I don’t think last night meant anything to you.” Evan spun around, shoving Kyle backward with his shoulder. He set the half-full coffee mug into the sink. More like dropped it. The coffee splashed against the sides of the metal sink, and the mug bounced four times, probably chipping all over. Maybe Kyle’s name had chipped right off, leaving a gaping space between King and Rowling, erasing him from the world of fiction, and he wouldn’t need to finish the book.

He gripped Evan’s arm and forced him to turn around. “That’s what I was saying. I think…it did mean something to me. You mean—”

“Forget it,” Evan said. “Can we just drop it?”

“No.” He crossed his arms over his chest, stepped back, and leaned against the refrigerator.

“I’m pretty sure I made it clear last night how much I want you. You’re worried sex will fuck up our friendship? That I can’t handle more? Well, I won’t know unless we try.” He didn’t want to talk anymore. He ached to take Evan to bed and show him, like Lorrie said. He forced himself to continue. “If you don’t want to, then I’m not going to be an ass about it. I’m not going to jump you or make a big deal about this. I respect what you think, what you want.” He dropped his arms and slid his hands into the pockets of his jeans. Softer, he asked, “Okay?” Evan met his gaze. “Okay.”