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It’s a miracle you’re alive.” Wyatt’s stomach sank. He couldn’t even do this right. He gripped the guy's hand. “Tell my dad… Tell my dad I tried to end it. I tried to do the right thing. Tell him.”
Linc frowned. “No offense, but you realize you’re paying six figures to babysit a grown man, right?” “Ten minutes with my son and you’ll feel like I’ve robbed you blind.”
“This was his most recent accident. He had a fractured orbital bone, a broken femur, six shattered teeth, and a lacerated spleen. My wife had to be medicated for weeks from the stress.” Stress, not fear, Linc couldn’t help but note. He was sure it wasn’t an accidental choice of words.
They say the only reason he lived is that he was so goddamn intoxicated he was ejected from the car. It's a miracle he’s alive,” he muttered, sounding like it was inconvenient, not miraculous.
Linc didn’t trust anybody who used air quotes as much as this man did.
“Wyatt Edgeworth?” Wyatt was certain his mouth fell open. He gaped at the six-foot-plus slab of suited muscle standing in his doorway, but he couldn’t help it. It wasn’t often every fantasy you ever had came to life and knocked on your front door.
He was old. Easily forty.
Could his father really be so cruel as to send the most beautiful man Wyatt had ever seen to guard his body for the next six months?
I can smell the liquor on your breath, and that stops right now. If you’re doing drugs, that stops now too. You’ll get up at a reasonable hour every day, put on some fucking clothes, and eat something healthy because you look like you’re wasting away.
it wasn’t like he was on a hunger strike. It was more like a cleanse, fruits and vegetables chased down with coffee and energy drinks. He ate when he was hungry. He just never really felt hungry anymore,
Linc wasn’t sure what he’d expected when Wyatt opened the door, but it wasn’t a sullen fallen angel with sparkling green eyes and a riot of blond curls. He was all sleek muscle and sharp edges, lithe like he’d gotten those muscles swimming laps in the pool, not hitting the weights at the gym. His features were almost…delicate. High cheekbones and a perfect jawline. He was…he was pretty. Beautiful, even. Sculptors spent lifetimes trying to create that kind of perfection.
“Come here.” Wyatt blinked at him. “What?” “You can help. I’m not your cook.” Wyatt stood, making his way toward Linc with trepidation, like it was some elaborate scheme. Linc handed him a wooden spatula. “Just push them around in the pan so they don’t burn, okay?” Wyatt frowned but nodded, staring into the pan with the same concentration one gave bomb disposal. Linc smiled. He couldn’t help himself.
Even the ones who were gay were so deep in the closet they were frolicking with woodland creatures in Narnia.
He’d gazed up into those warm whiskey eyes and told G.I. Joe he’d be a good Daddy. What the fuck? There was nothing left for Wyatt to do but lie there, hungover and horny, and just wait to starve to death and die.
He could never look Linc in the eye again. Like, who said shit like that? Not straight guys. And definitely not to another straight dude. He couldn’t ‘no homo’ his way out of this.
“I’m a little naked here.” Linc snorted. “If you’ve got something I’ve never seen, I’ll throw a dollar at it,” he promised,
He didn’t try to tame his damp curls. He was too busy trying to navigate walking and breathing at the same time.
He stared at his plate for a solid minute before he dared to look up again. Linc examined him, forehead furrowed but eyes soft…almost like he felt sorry for him. That made Wyatt want to throw something, drink something, swan dive off the balcony. Anything to get away from Linc’s pitying glance.
The boy would do anything Linc wanted, he knew it in a way he’d never be able to explain to another soul. Wyatt was his; his to kiss, his to fuck, his to protect and discipline.
“I’m not stupid. I used dish soap.” He snagged the bottle of viscous purple liquid and pointed to the words ‘dish soap’ before looking over his shoulder at Linc. “See?” Linc’s breath punched out of him at the desperation in Wyatt’s eyes. He wanted Linc’s approval, his validation, even for something as simple as this.
“Dish soap is for washing dishes in the sink. The detergent goes in the dishwasher,” Linc said gently. The light died in Wyatt’s gaze, his perfect mouth turning down at the corners as he pushed away from Linc.
“What did I tell you about barging in here?” She scrunched up her face. “Fuck if I know. Was I sober?”
Even if he was gay, he wasn’t available, and Wyatt was a lot of things, but he wasn’t a homewrecker.
“Fine. Sit. So, what are we talking about here? My-parents-stockpile-Bibles-and-guns fresh-faced or I-have-Daddy-issues slutty?” She tapped her nail against her veneers. “Somewhere in between those two would be perfect.”
“Try not to trip and fall on Grandpa’s dick out there. He might break a hip.” “Wow. You’re so funny,” he sneered, shoving her out his bedroom door. “Hey, you look like the bait on To Catch a Predator. I’m just trying to keep you safe.”
There was a note on the microwave door. Linc had made dinner and left it for him. Who did that? They didn’t even know each other and Linc had shown him more consideration than anybody in his family ever had.
He only wanted to wake him. But when he’d touched his chest, Linc had rolled him underneath him and clutched his throat, and Wyatt’s lizard brain had kicked in. And this lizard liked to be manhandled by hot scruffy men in their underwear, apparently.
This time, Wyatt did roll away from Linc. He didn’t want to be cared for. He didn’t want Linc acting like this meant anything.
When Linc curved his body around Wyatt’s and tucked him tight against him, Wyatt froze. “You don’t have to do this, you know.” Lips traced the back of his neck. “I like to snuggle after an orgasm. Get over it.”
We’ve got another six months stuck together. It’s good we got this out of our systems now. Right?” Wyatt’s stomach curdled like spoiled milk, his chest tightening, but he gave Linc a nod and a tight smile. “Yeah. Totally.”
the fact that Linc had so easily slammed the door on their sexcapade with seemingly no regrets left Wyatt’s ego as bruised and raw as his throat.
Of course, his father chose today to show up. Wyatt prayed the entire building would suddenly collapse and take them all out in one spectacular mess. But alas, the building held firm. Money couldn’t buy happiness but it could buy top-of-the-line construction materials.
Seriously? The man was blaming Wyatt for the bruises on his own neck. That was some next-level rationalizing, even for a politician.
He promised himself when all of this was over and he had penned his resignation for Jackson, he was going to punch this guy squarely in his smug fucking mouth. Twice. At least.
“The guy’s a cocksucker, man.” Jackson huffed out a laugh from behind his desk, his deep, booming voice filling up the large office space. “All the best homophobes are.”
“I can’t afford your fancy-pants therapist, Avery. All my money’s gotta go to Ellie right now.” “You can’t afford not to go, brother. Consider it a perk of the job.”
It was like living with a roommate who got along with everybody but him. A roommate who starred in his jerk-off fantasies at least twice a day.
Wyatt wasn’t trying to quote lame movies but Linc was definitely his particular brand of heroin, and Wyatt was afraid he’d be chasing that high forever. The feeling was clearly not mutual.
Wyatt put on his gray joggers that Charlie had forced him to buy because they rode low on his hips and “hugged his ass to perfection” and slipped on his favorite pale green hoodie but left it unzipped. This was war.
Fuck, it would just figure Wyatt would like to be spanked. God, he really wasn’t paying his therapist enough.
“What about what I want? Does that matter?” The rawness in Wyatt’s words was a sucker punch to the gut. “Do you even know what you want?” Wyatt deflated, the fight draining from his body, his head falling back against Linc’s shoulder. “I know nobody ever really cares what I want.” Jesus.
Wyatt shrugged. “She’s not scheduled to come, but that never stopped her before. She’s here a lot less now that you’re here, and when she is here, it’s to talk to you, not me.” Link huffed a laugh. “Are you jealous of my time with her?” “Maybe, yeah,”
Tomorrow, you are a free man, and you’ll return to your old life and your old friends and I’ll just be another of your father’s employees.” Wyatt audibly swallowed, voice tight. “Sure.” “This can’t happen again,” Linc said, more to himself than Wyatt. Wyatt sat up, throwing a hurt look over his shoulder. “I heard you the first ten times. I’m going to take a shower. Maybe you shouldn’t be here when I get back.” “Yeah, kid. Whatever you want.” “What I want. Right.”
He had spent so much time trapped in this apartment, he wasn’t sure he could cope with the outside world. If coping had been one of his strengths, he wouldn’t have ended up on house arrest in the first place.
Before Wyatt could ask for further explanation, the door to his bedroom creaked open to accommodate Linc’s large frame. Wyatt’s gaze dragged to him almost against his will. Linc frowned at Wyatt, and he felt another little piece of himself die. Now, his chest hurt for two reasons: his father’s abuse and Linc’s disapproval.
But, man, on my mother’s grave, the minute I resign, I’m going to lay that motherfucker out. I don’t care if I go to prison.” “And on that day, I’ll be there with bail money and a good attorney. Until then, adapt and overcome, Marine.”
Technically, he shouldn’t ever leave Wyatt alone, but Linc had needed to talk to Jackson before he committed a felony against a seated member of congress.
He reached for the medicine cabinet, looking for something to disinfect the wounds. He was both relieved and alarmed when he found everything he needed. He disposed of the bloody razor sitting next to Wyatt’s hip. “Sit up.”
“What did you take?” Linc asked, nudging Wyatt forward and sitting behind him where Cherry had sat just moments before…or was it Ginger? It was something Wyatt hated to eat. The thought made him snicker. “Wyatt, what did you take?”
“You can’t leave. You have to bring me water and oranges. You have to take care of me.”
