When Saint had left me alone to shower, I’d been relieved as hell. Every teasing word I’d ever heard about my body growing up clanged in my ears most days, but when I stood next to what most people considered a perfect male body, it was especially awful. If I’d been naked in the shower with him, I’d have felt even more humiliated and mortified than I normally did in a communal shower.

But I wasn’t ready to go home to a dark house all alone. Another night home alone, sleeping in my hidey-hole despite the state-of-the-art security system Rory had arranged to be installed the day after the break-in was not my idea of a happy night ahead.

The new alarm system had been enough for the first few nights. Between that and the extra locks on my bedroom door, I’d felt somewhat secure.

Until I’d had a terrible nightmare in which the intruders not only broke into my house but also dragged me out of bed and tortured me for hours. I’d spent the next night in a hotel a few towns over before getting up the nerve to return to Hobie the following day. I’d finally allowed Rory to talk me into self-defense classes, but one measly session surely wasn’t enough to give me the guts to sleep in the wide-open bedroom that night when the hidey-hole was so much safer.

I wondered if I’d ever be able to sleep in my own bed like a normal person again. Regardless, I knew I wanted to put off finding out for several more hours. The pub next to my shop had a popular happy hour, and if I wanted to stop by and check it out, I’d need to take a shower first. So, after Saint walked out of the locker room, I stripped out of my clothes and walked into the tiled space. The water slid over my sweaty skin, and I just stood there for a while, letting the warm spray pound against my neck and shoulder muscles. I faced the wall and closed my eyes.

All I could think about was how strange I’d felt during the session. Every time Saint had touched me, it had felt like something was happening to my skin. Like my body was a divining rod and his was a secret underground well of rich, cool water. I’d vibrated when he came near me and felt the loss of him when we parted. The whole thing was weird, not just regular physical attraction, and part of me wondered if that was how identical twins felt—like there was another body on earth that was somehow mystically dialed into theirs to the point of having an intense reaction when near each other.

I shook my head and felt the shower water slide down the sides of my face. Memories of times in my adolescence when I’d had a crush on my math teacher surfaced in my mind. What had made me think of Mr. Randolph now? Was it attraction I was feeling for Saint? Of course it fucking was.

I’d tried very hard to squelch all inappropriate feelings for other men years ago when my grandfather had caught me staring in a year-end school awards assembly and asked me about it at the restaurant later that night. My mother’s reaction had been swift and harsh—enough to send my balls deep into hiding and my fantasies about other men completely out of my mind. From then on, my mother had taken every opportunity to warn me about dire consequences for tarnishing our vaunted family name with tawdry modern “lifestyle choices.” I’d decided then and there to just stick to dating women like I was expected to. Women were easy. Women were lovely. Women were safe.

But my attempts to squelch those feelings hadn’t quite worked. I didn’t find women attractive in the same way men were. I’d gotten a crush on the wrong boy junior year in school and made the mistake of flirting with him one day after lunch, not realizing he was dating a big kid from the wrestling team who made it his mission for the rest of high school to remind me that I was small, weak, and ugly as hell. His campaign to make me feel worthless had been a raging success and had dovetailed quite nicely into my own cousin’s bullying.

Did I still fantasize about men? Hell yes. Did I act on it? Rarely. But when I did, I stuck with the same, no-strings-attached, anonymous blowjobs and hand jobs I always had. Period.

As far as the world and my family knew, I was in a serious relationship with Katrina Duvall. This worked well for both of us since neither of us wanted the world to know our secrets. But now that I was building a life outside of Dallas, maybe it was time to consider living life out of the closet. Surely I could be out in Hobie and still keep things quiet in Dallas with my family. Katrina had always encouraged me to find someone, even though it could mean the end of our arrangement one day.

After remembering the pub’s LGBT night was tonight, which meant maybe there’d even be an opportunity for me to meet someone, I opened my eyes and reached for the soap. Movement caught my eye, and I turned to see Saint’s tower of inked muscle and naked beauty staring at me.

My heart stuttered to a stop in my chest, and I stood frozen at the sight of him. Surely he was wondering how a scrawny-ass such as myself could ever hope to defend himself in the case of an attack. Maybe he was right. Maybe I was too small and weak to do any justice to these lessons.

A little voice in the back of my head reminded me that Saint hadn’t actually said that; it had been my own insecurity speaking.

By the time my heart kicked back into gear, he’d turned away from me to his own showerhead, and I noticed his magnificent body. He was like one of those guys on the cover of a fitness magazine. All shapely defined muscle and raw masculinity. I wondered what it was like to be that kind of man. To walk through the world with confidence and power, knowing you intimidated most of the people around you.

I’d teased him earlier about not being intimidating, but of course he was. Anyone would be an idiot to find themselves in a dark alley with Saint. But I’d also been telling the truth. For some reason, to me, he put out a purring kitten vibe. Did other people see it?

My eyes fell to his thick, muscular ass cheeks, and I saw them flex as he shifted his weight from one foot to the other. Fuck. Not looking. Not looking at another man’s ass in the shower. Did I have a death wish? That guy could squash me like a goddamned bug.

I turned back around and focused on washing myself, ignoring the thickening of my cock and closing my eyes in embarrassment. Did I really want to be caught staring at him in the shower so he could take me out back and beat the shit out of me later?

Just wash and get the hell out of there, Augie. Jesus.

I washed as fast as I could, pretending I was alone. After I dried off and slipped on my trousers, I saw Saint round the corner into the locker room with a towel wrapped around his waist. Multiple tattoos covered his chest and upper arms.

“I brought you a cup of water,” he said, nodding to the cups on the bench. “You need to hydrate.”

“Thanks.” I grabbed one like a lifeline and took a sip. The cool water helped dissipate the dry throat that had suddenly appeared at the sight of the tattoos running along Saint’s back and down into the towel.

“What did you think about the session?” Saint asked as he reached into a nearby locker for his own clothes. My eyes stayed riveted on his large biceps as they contracted and stretched.

I blinked and swallowed while I gathered my composure. “Good. It was good. Especially everything you said about focusing on maintaining balance so you don’t end up on the ground.”

“The next time we meet, I’ll show you what to do if you do end up on the ground and also how to get your attacker on the ground first,” he said. His face was serious, and I tried not to think about an attacker trying to get me on the ground. Or Saint trying to get me on the ground. Both of those images seemed equally dangerous in very different ways.

I turned back to my locker to grab my undershirt and slip it over my head. I needed to get control of the situation and put us squarely back on professional terms. Neither of us was there to make friends.

“August?” he asked.

“I don’t remember telling you to use my first name,” I said over my shoulder as I slid on my dress shirt. It was in a crumpled ball from when Saint had tossed it into the locker earlier. My heart hammered as I did up the buttons. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Saint startle and glance at me before looking away.

Fuck. What did I just do? I knew that look on his face because I was usually the one sporting it. It was the look of embarrassment at being called out. I owed him an apology.

“I—”

Before I could continue, Saint interrupted me with a clearing of the throat. “Why self-defense? Did something happen to make you feel threatened, Mr. Stiel?”

I turned back to face my locker and closed my eyes. I was screwing everything up as usual. This was a question I’d known I was going to get, and I really didn’t want to have to admit what a fucking scaredy-cat I was.

I shrugged. “Everyone should be able to defend themselves,” I said. I wondered if he recognized it as the nonanswer it was. My fingers finished fumbling over the final buttons of my shirt.

“True. But—”

“Good night, Mr. Wilde. See you next time,” I said with a nod before grabbing my wallet, car keys, and phone and exiting the locker room.

As I made my way out to the parking lot behind the building, I remembered his words about keeping my back straight and my eyes up. The autumn evening was brisk and gloomy, and it reminded me Halloween was coming.

I clicked the fob and saw lights blink on my SUV. As I slid into the clean leather seat, I breathed out a sigh of relief.

I’d done it. I’d taken a step toward eradicating this ridiculous weakness I’d been feeling since the break-in. Hopefully the self-defense classes would help me establish some form of self-confidence. And now for the next step. I would drive my car around to park behind my shop so I wouldn’t have so far to walk in the dark later.

After shifting the car into gear and pulling out of the parking space, I dialed Rory, but Katrina answered.

“Hey, sweetie,” she said with a smile in her voice. “Your sister’s out grabbing us dinner. How’d your first lesson go?”

I saw Saint walking out of the building next to another man about his same size. The guy with him was also good-looking. Did they only hire models at that fucking place?

My chest tightened as I saw Saint reach out to wrap his beefy arm around the other guy’s shoulder. They were both laughing, and I noticed Saint’s wide open smile and the crinkles in the corner of his eyes. It was such a far cry from the chastened version of him I’d ditched in the locker room. What must it feel like to be that free and happy, hanging out with another person you felt that comfortable with? I wanted to be the guy sharing the joke with him—and for some reason, I didn’t want the other guy anywhere near Saint. I wondered if they were more than friends.

“Augie?” I heard through the car’s Bluetooth speakers.

“Shit, sorry. Hi, Kat. It was good.”

“Tell me everything.” Her familiar voice was reassuring, and I slid down into my seat to enjoy the temporary company.

“The guy is cute as hell. Like… I wanted to climb him and touch him all over,” I admitted. She and my sister were the only people on earth I’d have the guts to admit that to.

Kat’s laughter filled the car. “Describe. Surely the guy is built if he teaches self-defense.”

I sighed. “He’s a million feet tall with thick blond hair. Maybe in his late twenties or early thirties. Total baby face but the most beautiful light blue eyes. And yeah, totally built. But not overly veiny or anything like a bodybuilder dude.”

“Sounds like a blond version of Marco,” she said, referring to her younger brother. “Hopefully, your guy has better manners though.”

Marco had been the one who’d brought my sister and Kat together five years before. He’d been Rory’s lab partner in a college science class, and when Rory’d discovered his sister was the gorgeous anchor on television she’d always lusted after, Marco had offered to introduce them. It had been love at first sight between my sister and Katrina. They were perfect for each other despite the ten-year age difference. Besides my homophobic family, the only problem was Kat’s career. She worked for a network that would drop her like a hot potato if a whiff of her sexuality became public.

One night when Rory was supposed to accompany me to a charity fundraiser, she’d sent Kat in her place. Media speculation of the lovely news reporter and one of the wealthy Stiels together in a relationship was like catnip. Our denials somehow made it seem even more true.

After a while, we finally realized the rumors got my mother off my back even better than it got the network off Kat’s. Win-win. As far as the public knew, Kat and I had been together for over two years.

“He’s different from Marco…” I tried to articulate what I was thinking. “Less refined. More… raw strength or something. Marco is like a sleek panther. Elegant. Saint is like…”

“Hold up. Saint? His name is Saint?”

“Don’t make me yell Polo again,” I griped. “Anyway, Saint is more like an overgrown puppy who doesn’t know where his own feet are.”

There was silence on the other end of the line for a few moments. I hardly noticed since I was still picturing the cute kitten I’d just spent so much time with.

“You like him.” Her voice was softer and seemed to hold a tinge of concern.

“Isn’t that what I said? It’s a problem. You’re not supposed to have a crush on the guy who’s teaching you to punch shit.”

“Why not? What’s wrong with a little crush?”

I groaned and closed my eyes, leaning my head back on the headrest. “Ugh, Katrina. You make me sound like a kid. What’s wrong is springing wood in the middle of a lesson.”

Her laughter made me snort too. “Sounds like a personal problem,” she said after she got her chuckling under control.

“He’s so hot,” I whined. “So, so hot.”

“So, why don’t you flirt with him? See what happens?”

“No. Not him. He’d kick my ass. But it kind of made me think about going to our local gay night at the pub.”

Kat’s squeal almost burst my eardrums. “Oh my god, Augie! That’s a great idea! I’ve been so worried about you. I’m thrilled to hear you say you’re going to put yourself out there. It’s about time.”

“Now you’re making me sound like a charity project,” I said. “With friends like you, who needs enemies?”

“Shut up. Go get a drink and call us after. I expect you to sit down and have at least one conversation with a cute guy. Understood?”

I took in a deep breath and held it before letting go.

“Understood.”