Chapter Four

Seth peeked out from where he had his head inside the cabinet under the kitchen sink and found Vargas staring down at him.

At the sight of that rare grin and the penetrating dark stare, Seth’s heartbeat kicked up a notch and a swarm of butterflies hit his stomach with incredible force. A stupid, childish reaction, but there it was.

He’d seen Vargas almost every day for the past two years. There was no reason for him to feel like a nervous kid on a first date.

There was also no reason for him to think today was the day he’d get an answer to the question he’d posed a week ago. Still, he couldn’t help but hope Vargas was about to agree to the idea.

The man in question was dressed in a black form-fitting T-shirt and jeans that perfectly hugged his muscular frame and left little to the imagination. The clothes were far more casual than his usual dress shirt and tie. The T-shirt also showcased the tats along the length of his solid arms. His dark hair was damp from the rain and was slicked back like he’d spent the drive over running his fingers through it.

Staring up the length of that vast physique from this new angle, Seth’s breath came faster. His stomach muscles tightened as he forced out, “I was just working on something.”

“I see that.”

“You’re uh… You’re early.”

Vargas’s eyebrows rose. “Damn good thing too. How were you planning to get up?”

“Um…” Perhaps working on this right before Vargas was supposed to get there hadn’t been such a great idea. Although Vargas didn’t seem angry. Quite the opposite. The amused smile lingered on his face.

Again that nervous jolt shot through Seth. He tried to hold back the rush of excitement. “I got down here okay. I figured getting up couldn’t be that much harder.” He accepted the screwdriver Vargas held out for him. The side of Vargas’s hand was scraped and bruised. “What happened to you?”

“Nothing. Just had a little run-in.”

“With who?”

“Doesn’t matter.”

Despite the intense curiosity, Seth lay down inside the cabinet again and tightened the mounting screws. When he was done, he ditched the screwdriver and moved to sit up. With both hands, he gripped the top edge of the cabinet opening above him. Vargas wound a hand around his right upper arm, helping him slide forward.

Once all the way out of the cabinet, Seth sat up, moving with care so as not to strain or pull anything. He offered Vargas a smile in thanks, then faced the cabinet and finished the last few steps of the project. The entire time Vargas stood back and waited, giving him space to do this on his own.

When Seth was finished, he scooted sideways and leaned back against the closed cabinet door between the opening and the bucket he’d used to drain the water from the pipes. He just needed a minute to rest before he attempted anything more. It still took a lot out of him to do something like get off the floor and return to a standing position.

It had been several months since his last surgery to repair the second herniated disc. His doctor had initially hoped to treat it with pain medications and physical therapy, but the disc had gotten worse over time. It began putting pressure on the nerves in his lower back, causing him muscle spasms, weakness, numbness, and pain that radiated down his legs to his calves.

Since the surgery, he’d been healing well, and the throbbing ache in his lower back was less intense. But with all the muscle weakness and previous back pain he had, his leg and knee had never gotten the early rehabilitation they should have. Just another frustrating piece of the puzzle his life had become.

Vargas picked up the bucket of water, placed it on the counter, and sat on the floor next to him, casually resting his forearms on his bent knees. “What were you working on?”

“I installed a new garbage disposal.”

Without a word Vargas glanced around the room at the supplies sprawled across the floor, then at the wheelchair near the refrigerator. Dylan had gotten the chair out of the closet for Seth earlier that morning so he’d be ready to go when Vargas picked him up.

Seth didn’t want to think about climbing back in that damn chair. He gestured toward the open cabinet door over his shoulder. “The old disposal got all clogged up, and the motor overheated. The stupid building manager wouldn’t do anything about it.”

“Wasn’t it heavy to lift into place?”

“I ordered a pretty small one, and I figured out a way to prop it up until I had it secure.”

“I would’ve helped you.”

“I know. I wanted to try and do it myself.”

Vargas kept his gaze locked on Seth’s. “I get that.” He tilted his head toward the iPad. “You figured it out from a video?”

“It was pretty easy to follow.”

“Score one for YouTube.”

“I know, right? A lifesaver for guys with a loser dad.”

Vargas’s brows drew together in concern.

Seth shrugged. “I wasn’t looking for sympathy. Just meant that watching videos online was how I learned a lot of stuff when I was a kid.”

“Like what?”

“How to tie a tie, how to shave, how to put a condom on.”

Vargas smirked and shook his head. “We didn’t have YouTube when I was learning all that shit.”

Seth couldn’t help himself. “That’s because you’re really fucking old.”

That got him a full-out laugh from Vargas. “Set myself up for that one.”

“Yeah, you did.”

They both laughed more, and the anxiety faded away for Seth. It was always like that with Vargas.

When their laughter died off, Vargas said in a more subdued tone, “Heard a reporter called you.”

“Yeah.” Seth sighed. “Guess I should’ve known Dylan would say something.”

“You want to talk about it?”

“No. It was no big deal.” He bit at his bottom lip. “It doesn’t matter where they put him.”

“Okay.” Vargas didn’t push about Prescott’s move. “Were you able to get rid of the reporter?”

“As soon as he said he wanted to do an interview with me, I told him to fuck off and hung up on his ass. He didn’t call back.”

Another grin formed at the corners of Vargas’s lips. “Good move.” Then the amused smile faded again. “Sorry you had to deal with that.”

“Wasn’t the first time.”

“If it keeps happening, we can get your number changed.”

“I contacted my cell company this morning and got a new one.”

With something like surprise, or maybe admiration, Vargas searched Seth’s face. “I don’t know why Toby and Dylan worry so much about you.”

Vargas always had a way of making him feel strong and brave, even on his worst days. Sometimes it felt like Vargas was the only one who really saw him.

Neither said a word for several seconds. They just continued with the unflinching stare.

Vargas had also never been one to fill the quiet with meaningless chatter, which Seth hadn’t minded in the least in the beginning. They’d sit together for hours, not saying much, just watching a movie or reading. Simply having Vargas there had Seth feeling less alone and afraid. He’d always appreciated that when Vargas spoke, it was intentional and deliberate.

Yet now Seth would give almost anything to hear more from him. He longed to know everything about Vargas that he hadn’t learned yet. About his childhood. His family. His love life. Everything. He just never could bring himself to ask.

Like right then. He wanted to know what Vargas was thinking. Because lately, the silences between them had grown different, palpable. Like Vargas had more to say than ever, only he had no idea how to get started.

Or maybe he didn’t want to.

Maybe it was something he knew Seth wouldn’t want to hear.

Breaking the stare, Vargas tipped his head back to the cabinet door behind him. His eyes fell shut.

Seth settled on a change in topic. “How’d your meeting with Miyata go yesterday?”

Keeping his eyes closed, Vargas shrugged indifferently, but he wasn’t fooling Seth. This bothered him. A lot.

“You still think he’s keeping something from you?”

“Yeah. And my gut says it’s about the club.” He opened his eyes. “I hate thinking this shit about him.”

“Makes sense. He’s not just your accountant. He’s your friend. It’s normal to feel bad about it, but that doesn’t mean you’re wrong.”

“Yeah. I think I just need to audit the books from the past couple of years, go over everything myself.”

“I could help you.”

“Doesn’t sound like much fun for you.”

“Actually it does.” Seth sat taller. “A chance to get a look behind-the-scenes at the Haven? It’d be interesting to see how it all works.”

Vargas snorted out a laugh. “Interesting? Most people think the financials are the least interesting part of running a sex club.”

Seth laughed with him. “But I bet I could help you find out if he’s up to something, if he’s stealing from you.”

“I bet you could.”

“Have you been losing a lot of money lately? Losses he’s been able to explain away a little too easily?”

Vargas hesitated like he didn’t want to answer that. Seth silently cursed himself for bringing it up. Dylan had said he’d heard rumors that the club was in serious financial trouble, and Seth had been trying hard not to pry.

Eventually Vargas said, “The Haven’s been losing money for a while now, and that has nothing to do with him. It was long before he began lying to me.”

“Oh.”

“It’s not a big deal. I just—” He sighed and shook his head.

“If you think there’s something wrong, if you think he’s lying to you, you can’t ignore that. Maybe because you’ve been losing money, he decided now was the perfect time to embezzle from you, and in the process, he’s making everything worse.”

“I guess. I just never thought he was that kind of person.”

“But maybe he’s changed. You should trust your instincts.”

“You’re right.” He met Seth’s gaze. “Thanks.” But it wasn’t gratitude visible in that look directed at Seth. Vargas was studying him like he was trying to read something in Seth’s face. Or maybe was hoping to see it. Then he quickly looked away, focusing on Charlie’s water bowl near the doorway across the room. “You sleep okay last night?”

“Yeah.”

“Good.”

Seth added, “They haven’t come back.”

“Okay.” A pause followed. Then Vargas repeated the one word as though it had taken him a moment to fully accept what Seth had said. “Okay.”

The nightmares that had plagued Seth’s early days in the hospital had ceased not long after they’d started. When he’d been well enough to head home, the dreams had returned. So severely that Vargas had slept on Seth’s couch every night, and it had helped immensely having someone else in the apartment for those first few weeks. Then Dylan had suggested moving in with him, and Vargas had gone back to his place.

Now, at least once a month, Vargas would ask whether or not the nightmares had returned.

If anyone else had done that—and with as much frequency as Vargas had—Seth would’ve gotten pissed. He hated how people’s good intentions and concern made him seem weak and broken.

There was just something different about the way Vargas said the words, about the apprehension visible on his face and how he held his breath as he waited for Seth’s reply, like the answer mattered to him even more than it did to Seth.

Guilt does strange things to a person. They either completely ignore the object of that guilt, or they obsess over it.

Seth didn’t want to think about that too much. Not while he was waiting to hear Vargas’s answer on the question he’d brought up the week before.

Instead he said, “So… I think I did it.”

Vargas grinned. “The disposal?”

“Just need to give it a test.”

“I’m impressed.”

Seth elbowed him in the side. “What? You think basic plumbing is beyond me?”

“That’s not what I meant.” Vargas searched Seth’s eyes, again looking like he was desperately trying to see something. Seth opened his mouth to tell him to say whatever was on his mind when the sound of scraping claws on linoleum cut him off.

Charlie was rushing toward them from the kitchen doorway. He went straight for Vargas, who harrumphed as the dog flopped onto his lap and set to licking his face.

“You finally wake up and figure out I was here?” Vargas loved on the dog for a minute, Charlie eating up the attention, his tail thumping repeatedly against the floor. He was always so dang excited to see Vargas.

Seth could relate.

Vargas gave Charlie another pat. Then he asked Seth, “You want to give the new disposal a quick try?”

“Sure. Can you plug it in? The outlet’s under the cabinet.”

“You got it.” Vargas encouraged the dog to move off him so he could stand. He held out a hand and helped Seth up next, waiting there as he always did until Seth was steady on his feet.

Seth propped his hip against the counter. “I’m good.”

Vargas crouched and bent inside the cabinet, then stood again. “All set.”

Seth turned on the faucet and threw some food scraps into the disposal. Bracing on the edge of the sink with one hand, he pitched forward and reached for the switch on the back wall. The unit came on and ground up the food with no trouble.

Vargas smiled at him. “You did it.”

“Yeah, I guess I did.” Seth hit the switch again and got the faucet shut off. Without warning, his right hand slipped, and he fell sideways, his elbow knocking over the bucket of water in the process. The bucket went flying, and so did its contents. Some of the water landed on Seth, but the majority of it hit Vargas straight on.

The front of his shirt was soaked, his face and hair the same. Water dripped from his chin as the empty bucket clattered onto the linoleum floor.

Seth clasped a hand over his mouth. “Oh my God. I’m so sorry.”

Vargas let out a boisterous laugh. Seth wasn’t sure he’d ever heard him laugh like that. That got him going too.

They stood there in a fit of laughter for several breaths.

Vargas went for the towel hanging from the oven door handle. He gave a quick dab to his face, then returned to the sink and wiped the water from Seth’s neck and face.

On the last swipe, the tips of his fingers brushed Seth’s skin. Seth’s breath hitched. He felt light-headed, and a rush of heat worked its way over every inch of his flesh. He hadn’t had a response of instant arousal like that to such a simple, innocent exchange since he’d been a teenager.

And there was no way Vargas hadn’t noticed. He stilled his hand, keeping the pads of his fingers in contact with Seth’s bare skin. Then those fingers moved again, softly caressing the side of his neck. Seconds ticked by as neither looked away. Vargas leaned forward a fraction of an inch.

Then his eyes widened. He stopped, dropped his hand, and turned away. Burying his face in the towel, he scrubbed it dry, then swiped the sides of his neck. He attempted soaking up the water from his T-shirt next. The front of the shirt was drenched, whereas Seth’s only had a few splotches of water.

Seth tried to appear casual before Vargas faced him again. He doubted he was succeeding.

Vargas gave up on the cleaning and ditched the towel on the counter. “This shirt’s a lost cause.” He reached for the hem and stripped it off over his head. Using the balled-up shirt, he wiped his damp chest.

Seth couldn’t look away from the expanse of flesh and muscle before him, or the assortment of tattoos that covered those bare pecs and abs. He’d never seen Vargas without his shirt, much less gotten a full view of the numerous tattoos he sported on his upper body. Seth wanted to shove him to the floor, straddle him, and read every word written on that strong body, then kiss and lick each tattoo in turn.

His blood rushed south, and his cock began to fill.

He forced down a stiff swallow. “You can borrow one of my shirts.” Great idea. Any shirt of his was going to be tighter than the one Vargas had shown up in.

“Thanks. Think I will.”

Seth gestured toward his bedroom. “Help yourself.”

Vargas headed down the hall, and Seth frantically set to wiping up the wet counter as a distraction, willing his body to quit betraying him.

All he could focus on was a single question: had Vargas been about to kiss him?

There was no way. He must’ve imagined that.

For weeks now Seth had been secretly hoping he’d one day find himself in bed with Vargas. It had been so long since he’d been with anyone. He wanted Vargas to be the person he could jump that hurdle with. Yet in all his thoughts on the subject, it hadn’t occurred to him that Vargas would want to kiss him.

He’d pictured Vargas’s erection between his lips, envisioned his own stiff cock in Vargas’s large hands, and thought about what it would be like to be touched like that again, to touch someone else. But he hadn’t let his imagination go beyond those details, hadn’t even considered what Vargas would want, if anything.

Although lately, Vargas had been looking at Seth with an entirely new expression.

Desire.

There was no way to pretend it was anything else. Not that Seth wanted to, no matter the reason for Vargas’s interest. After all, proximity and desperation could lead a man to wanting someone he might not normally go for. With Vargas’s work and how much he’d been helping Seth and the others, he couldn’t have had much time left for a social life.

Although…

Plenty of guys used to want Seth. They came on to him at the Haven and asked him to join them in the private rooms upstairs. He had that perfect twink look that some guys were into. A young face, slim build, and tight round ass that got him a lot of attention on the dance floor.

But all that was before.

That’s how he always thought of it. Just… before.

If Vargas really did want to be with him, what specifically would he expect? A gradual, sensual buildup of kisses, of hands and lips exploring everywhere, bare body pressed against body? Would he want Seth to run his mouth over every inch of him? And vice versa?

A guy like Vargas, who owned the type of club he did, could have any lover he chose and any experience he craved. Would he be hugely disappointed by what Seth could offer him?

Vargas returned to the kitchen, and Seth halted the cleaning, completely stunned. Vargas was wearing a bright pink T-shirt with bold purple rhinestone-lettering printed diagonally across the front, spelling out the word Tasty. It was one of the shirts from the boxes stored in Seth’s closet. Which meant Vargas had seen the clothes that Seth had hidden away when he moved into the new apartment.

Seth glanced down at his own attire: baggy sweatpants, plain long-sleeve T-shirt. No bright colors or logo or lettering. Nothing to draw attention to himself. For the first time since he’d packed away his old clothes, he wished he’d gone with something sexier.

A hand came to rest on his cheek. Vargas had stepped in closer and was eyeing him with concern. He traced the side of Seth’s face with his fingertips. The same tender way he’d touched his neck earlier. “You look tired.”

Plenty of people had touched Seth over the past two years—doctors, nurses, and physical therapists—but he felt like he hadn’t been touched, really touched, in forever. Until it was Vargas’s hand on him.

It took Seth a moment to find his voice. “I’m okay.” He couldn’t tear his focus away from Vargas’s intense stare. That was until Vargas parted his lips, and then it was that mouth, those lips that Seth became obsessed with.

There was no denying it this time. Vargas was studying him with the same unspoken, burning longing that Seth felt, and Vargas was definitely leaning in.

But then, without warning, he was gone. He crossed the room and scooped up Charlie’s water bowl. He dashed for the bathroom down the hall while Seth just stood there, leaning against the counter, gaping at the empty room before him.

What had just happened? What might’ve happened if Vargas hadn’t walked away?

He’d been touching Seth more and more lately, offering little intimate gestures of support when they were out in public and he knew Seth was severely anxious, but this was the first time he’d done anything like those caresses when they were alone. Seth couldn’t wrap his head around what that meant.

He licked his lips, unable to keep from picturing what it would be like. He could barely remember how it felt to be kissed, touched, wanted. Now the door was open to those thoughts, and there was no closing it.

When Vargas returned, he set Charlie’s filled water bowl down and began picking up the tools and other supplies from the floor. Without a word on what had happened before he left, he said, “We’ve got a few minutes before we need to leave.” He retrieved Seth’s cane and handed it to him. “You want to go sit in the other room and wait or get going now?”

“Let’s wait.” Seth would rather be alone with Vargas instead of in a waiting room full of people.

Although the minute he started to move for the living room, he felt Vargas’s stare on him, and he regretted that decision.

All week he’d been telling himself not to get his hopes up that Vargas would say yes to his idea. But now that Vargas had touched him like that, had looked at him like that, he couldn’t avoid that hope. He wanted Vargas to agree to it more than anything.