Chapter Six
Adler
I woke up feeling great. I’d scored the game-winning goal last night. Apollo and I had played a wickedly badass round of some zombie first-person shooter game on the Xbox before bed and I’d whipped him like a soufflé. Do you whip soufflés? Whatever. He’d got turned into a mindless zombie and I hadn’t, so go Adler.
Layton and I had made eye contact, and there had been something… tender or caring in his look. I’d dreamed about touching his face and kissing his spine all the way down to his pert ass.
Hoping to continue the good vibes into a new day, I jumped out of bed, beat off in the shower, because spine-kissing fantasy, ate the plate of eggs and bacon Apollo put in front of me before I was made to comment on what kind of holiday window cling he should put on the sliding glass doors. I didn’t care, because no one would see them and I’d ignore them. He could put window clings of naked Layton Foxx up there and…
I paused and glanced at the icy sliders. If naked Layton Foxx were a window cling, I’d notice. Hell, I’d be over there tonguing the damn frosty glass. Shit, my dick was already noticing. That man was turning me into a six-foot-four walking erection. I checked on the nicely wrapped pen set in my duffel, pulled a coat on over my suit jacket, and made my way to the barn.
Listening to Cinderella as I poked along in early morning Harrisburg traffic, I ran over a few scenarios about the gift-giving in our scheduled sensitivity meeting after morning skate. I practiced several lines, but none of them sounded convincing, so I opted just to wing it. What could go wrong? I mean, come on. I was giving the man a Montblanc pen set. Maybe he’d be so grateful and awed by my gift that he’d allow me to give him that blowjob I’d secretly daydreamed about the night before while trying to fall asleep. Bet those gray eyes of his darkened like a thunderhead when he was being loved well.
“Ah man, come on,” I growled at my dick as it stiffened yet again. Great. Fucking dicks. I drove around the parking lot of the stadium until my boner went away.
Morning skate took forever. Rowe was all over me the minute I returned to the dressing room after skate, jabbering away about feeling that my addition to the team was obviously a good one, how sweet he and I skated together, and how he and Coach Madsen had set up their Christmas tree last night.
“First Christmas together,” Ten said as a peachy-pink blush colored his face. My coloring went from lost-what-little-tan-he-had white to jealous shamrock-green. I excused myself, claiming I had to use the bathroom because of a bad breakfast burrito I’d bought at the gas station coming in. Envy was a nasty emotion. I disliked being jealous, but it was a familiar feeling. I’d spent my childhood being jealous of the time my parents spent at work as well as on their hobbies, traveling, friends. Apollo’s relationship with his mother and father. Even the Wright Brothers, because they’d been the ones who’d discovered how to get people off the ground. So yeah, I’d grown up being jealous of airplanes because my parents, Cole and Karrie Anne, spent more time with their jet and personal pilot than they did with me.
Ugh. I had to stop. “Think happy thoughts,” I told myself as I snuck back into the changing area.
A fast strip and shower, fingers through the hair, and a quick check on the tie. Package wrapped in silver foil with a blue bow in hand, I jogged past the weight room. I jammed the gift inside my suit jacket. The door to the small office Foxx had been given was open, so I rushed in before anyone could see me and flung the door closed. Layton looked less bug-eyed upon seeing me barge into his space this time. I worked on pulling my shoulders in so that I didn’t take up so much room in the cramped area.
“You’re early,” Layton said. He looked outstanding today. The dark-gray pinstripe fitted him well, showing off his broad shoulders. On his lapel was a rainbow flag pin. “Glad to see you’re so enthusiastic about bettering your social interaction skills.”
“Right, yeah, totally on that. So, here.” I pulled the package out from under my jacket. Layton’s slate-toned eyes widened. I shook the gift at him. “This is for you.”
“Christmas is three weeks away,” he murmured as he eyed the present like it might blow up in his face or something. “And I’m not sure you and I should be exchanging—”
“It’s not a Christmas gift. It’s an apology gift.” I shoved the set at him. He drew back. Okay, he seriously thought it was an incendiary device. Why else would he not take it?
“That wasn’t necessary.”
“It was.” I laid the box on his desk, right beside that stapler he always seemed to have close at hand. He looked up at me. I stared at him… at his eyes… losing myself and my train of thought as I watched timidity and desire swirling in those pewter depths. I sat down to make myself less intimidating. “Open it.”
“Mr. Lockhart…”
“Adler, Mr. Lockhart is my father. Well,” I let my gaze touch his firm jaw,” that’s not what I call my father. He’s Cole to me. Like mom is Karrie Anne. That’s how my gifts and the checks are always signed. Cards, too. ‘Love, Cole and Karrie Anne Lockhart.’ Funny, huh?”
“Well I…”
“I mean, the gifts are always top-notch, so it’s not like they’re cheap gifts. I wish you’d open that and see how sorry I am.” I reached over the desk to nudge the nicely wrapped box through papers and notes.
“You didn’t need to buy me anything. Just a heartfelt apology works.”
“That’s an apology from the Cartier boutique.” Was there a reason he wasn’t getting it? Love comes in boxes from Cartier, Tiffany, or Van Cleef & Arpels. Everyone knows that.
“I can’t accept such an expensive gift, Adler. But thank you.” He pushed the box back at me. My mind scrambled to make sense of this. “Maybe we should start talking about how some words can be misconstrued when used in—”
I got to my feet. He did as well. Okay, that was fine. He looked good standing. Sitting, too. Lying under me in bed as well, I’d wager.
“I don’t get it. This is me trying to make you happy. This isn’t a dumb little gift from K-Mart or something. I spent hours getting this for you yesterday. I was almost late for the game because they had to courier this set from King of Prussia to Harrisburg. That’s a lot of thoughtfulness being put into an apology, Foxx. The least you could do is take the damn thing.”
His nice jaw jutted out. Ah, well, now he was showing some fire. It made him even more attractive, to be honest. I’d bet he was a lively bottom once he got past being so meek, because there was obviously fire in the man’s breast.
“I think I told you that I couldn’t accept it.” He folded his arms over his chest as his gaze found mine and locked with it. “I’m sorry you got into trouble because of it, but that’s not my fault. Now can you sit back down so we can begin work on your sensitivity training?”
“I’m being all kinds of sensitive!” I barked.
He cocked a dark eyebrow.
“What? You think spending hours playing a gem drop game while the perfect pen set for the man you fantasize spine-kissing is en route to me isn’t sensitive?”
“What?” He coughed. I blinked. “What did you say?” His brows tangled.
“That I spent hours playing some stupid gem drop game on my phone while I waited for the courier to arrive from King of—”
“No, not that. The other part of your comment.” He looked flushed and hot. Well, he was always hot, but hot under the collar, I meant.
“I don’t know what I said.”
His mouth opened and shut a few times. Nothing came out.
“Are you having a seizure or something?” I enquired as he worked to speak or breathe. Wasn’t sure which. Maybe he’d need mouth to mouth. I could get into that.
“That’s why you need to learn not to feel and speak simultaneously,” he finally said.
“Apollo said the same thing in the parking garage last night. Actually, he says that to me all the time,” I commented.
Layton’s face tightened. “That’s another thing we need to discuss. If you’re not out yet, then public displays of affection with your boyfriend in public places shouldn’t be happening.”
“You said public twice,” I pointed out. That seemed to add to his flustered thoughts, which amped up his hotness into the stratosphere. “Were you spying on me?”
“Don’t be asinine.” He stalked to the door and whipped it open. “This meeting is over. We’re out of time, and you’re obviously out of touch with how to conduct yourself.”
“That’s a Hall & Oates song.” I couldn’t stop looking at his mouth. “And that guy I hugged in the parking lot wasn’t my boyfriend—he’s my best friend and personal assistant.”
“Oh. Maybe you should make sure my advice about public displays is carried home to your boyfriend.”
I took a step closer to him. He stood his ground. I pushed the door closed. He straightened his spine and wet his lips. A jolt of lust hit me right in the balls. I wanted to wet his lips for him.
“‘Out of Time’ is a Hall & Oates song,” I told him as the magnetic pull of Layton Foxx had me moving toward him. “And I don’t have a boyfriend. You want the job?”
“Hall & Oates is… what?” He took a step in reverse, then faltered, as if he suddenly remembered he wasn’t going to be intimidated by me any longer. The cloud of lust and male pheromones was thick on the air. His cologne and mine intermingled and created a new aroma that was rich, sinful and lusty.
“I could use a man in my life to keep my mouth from getting away from me,” I said in a gruff voice. His gray eyes darted to my mouth. He wet his lips again. I leaned in slowly, trying to give him time to duck away or skitter to a corner or grab that fucking stapler and staple me in the forehead. He didn’t do any of those things, though.
He exhaled shakily through slightly parted lips as I pressed my mouth over his. I inhaled his breath. He’d had coffee with almond flavoring recently. I wished I could plunge my tongue into his mouth to see if the amaretto creamer he’d obviously used still lingered there, but I didn’t. I just leaned in a little more to apply a bit more pressure. He was shorter than me but not by too much. Just the right amount. Leaner, too. God, I wanted to get my hands on him and feel those hard angles and tight muscles. His fingers came to rest on my shoulder. All the blood rushed from my head to my groin, leaving me lightheaded and as hard as a railroad spike.
I cupped his cheek, the skin smoothly shaven under my fingertips.
“Or maybe dinner first?” I asked. His reply was a rustle of hot breath fanning over my just-been-kissed lips. He wanted to say yes. I saw it in the way one side of his mouth subtly moved upward. Then that touch of a smile disappeared. The relaxed man I was exchanging breaths with turned into a statue, complete with frozen face and stony gray eyes.
“You need to go. Now. Right now.” He fumbled with the doorknob.
“Why? What are you so scared of? You’re the one who’s out, yet you act like you’re terrified to go grab a bite to eat. Shouldn’t it be me acting all freaked out?” I stroked his face. He slapped my hand away. I gawked at him as my mind tried to catch up with the sudden about-face. “Maybe I was a little pushy kissing you and all, but—”
“Just get out!” He yanked the door open. It slapped both of us on the hip and nearly jarred loose from his grip. I took a few steps in reverse, lifted my hands in an “I’m backing away” gesture like one would when confronted by a terrified yet angry dog.
“Okay, I’m going,” I said as I stepped around the door. “I’m sorry, Layton. I just… I’m sorry.” My lungs emptied and collapsed, or it felt like it. His gaze darted from his hand on the knob to me. Yep. Terrified animal fit his actions and expression well. I backed out of his space, lowered my hands, and tried to think up something calming and intelligent to say.
Layton shut the door in my face. Wow. How many times had Cole and Karrie Anne closed me out of a room the same way? I’d let him down somehow, just like I’d repeatedly let down my parents. I sucked.
“I didn’t mean to disappoint you too,” I exhaled over the wood I was now kissing instead of a sexy man in a suit. Layton’s lips were much tastier—and less splintery—than the door. Softer, too. I trailed a finger over a hinge, then walked off. Maybe he wanted a better gift…