Chapter 5

 

Geoffrey glared at Sven who was glaring right back at him from across the dining room table. A legal pad of paper sat between them with about a dozen names on it. This was not going well. Morning had started off not too badly. Coffee, emails, checking social media, a grunted “Good morning” from Sven and then a hell of a lot of silence.

Yep, all was tolerable…until the sexy giant asked him to list the people in his life who might want to hurt him, and then it was all downhill from there. That night at the club was still blurry, but he remembered about a dozen people he knew at Trouble Maker and Aesthetic AF. Not a damn one of them would have hurt him.

“What about in business?”

“I don’t work with anyone,” Geoffrey said, trying not to sound annoyed.

“You didn’t work with anyone on the app?”

He shook his head. “Just me. I created it, updated it, managed the servers, databases. All of it.”

The glare cleared from his face and Geoffrey could have sworn that he looked genuinely impressed. “Was it hard?”

That was the first personal question Sven asked that wasn’t directly linked to the case. It was like his guard was coming down and Geoffrey was desperate for it to stay down. He had to physically bite his tongue to stop himself from saying the first smartass, flirty thing that came to mind. He couldn’t help himself. Sven had been put on this earth for Geoffrey to flirt with.

“I certainly made it harder than I needed it to be. I was going to school for business, but I was playing with this coding thing on the side.” He shoved a hand through his hair and then wanted to smack himself because he’d probably just made a mess of it after spending several minutes that morning trying to look sexy for Sven. Whatever…“A friend I made online told me to learn C++, but I struggled with it a lot. It required so many lines to do anything, and I was disorganized so my code was turning into spaghetti. I spent a lot of time shouting at my computer and throwing things. So I started picking up Java and then Python. And Python…oh God…Python is much cleaner and easier.”

Geoffrey took a breath and looked at Sven who was staring at him with an expression of amazement. “Sorry,” he said, wincing. “That was more than you wanted.”

“You learned all that on your own? Python and Java. Those are programs?”

“Coding languages, yes. I’m fluent in Java and Python. My C++ isn’t great, but I can manage it.”

“Did you always plan to sell Matinee?”

Geoffrey snorted and slouched in his chair. “Fuck, no. I was doing it just for fun. Told a few friends about it and they thought I’d never get it in the Apple store. But once I did—” He made an exploding sound, throwing his arms out wide.

A small smile teased Sven’s lips and Geoffrey basked in the knowledge that he managed that little bit. Sven didn’t smile or laugh much. Mostly he just glared or was stone-faced. Great for a bodyguard, but it also drove Geoffrey crazy with wanting to make him smile.

“All that work, just for fun,” Sven said softly in awe.

Geoffrey shrugged. “It paid off. Now I work when I want and on what I want. Finn can go to school where he wants.”

“What about your work now?”

“I haven’t told anyone what I’m working on.”

“Not even Finn?”

“He knows it’s another app, but beyond that?” He paused and shook his head. “If it’s not a girl or one of his nano projects, he doesn’t care.”

For the first time, Geoffrey wanted to tell someone what he was working on. He never shared until he was done. He didn’t want to deal with the criticism and doubts when he was still working through the code and problem solving. There were enough doubts and worries running through his head. He didn’t need anyone else’s.

But he kept his mouth shut and Sven didn’t ask, which hurt more than he’d expected.

He looked up to find Sven quickly thumbing through messages on his phone, his glare returning so that his eyebrows were gathered over his eyes. His full lips pressed into a hard, thin line before he carefully placed his phone facedown on the table and looked at Geoffrey again.

“Quinn is working on pulling together all your social media followers. He says that you have somewhere between 650,000 and two million followers combined on all your accounts.”

“Really?” Geoffrey reached into his back pocket and pulled out his cell phone. “I’m pretty sure that I’ve got more than that.”

“He’s trying to take into account duplicates.”

Geoffrey put his phone down and looked at Sven. It sounded like the man was talking through clenched teeth. “So?”

“So that means we have between 650,000 and two million potential suspects until he can rule out those not in the immediate area.”

Geoffrey shrugged. “It could also be someone who watches one of my accounts for updates but isn’t actually a follower.”

“But you said that the person who helped you out of the club was someone you knew. A friend. All your friends are also followers, right?”

Geoffrey swore under his breath. That was right. He’d been confident that he knew him…or her…when the person asked if he needed help. He’d felt it in his gut, but now he couldn’t pull together even the barest hint of an image in his head of the person or the sound of their voice. It was driving him crazy.

Pushing out of his chair, he paced over to the back windows looking out over the sparkling pool. “I don’t know! Yeah, I thought it was a friend that night, but a friend wouldn’t do this shit. A friend doesn’t give veiled threats or drug you.” He swung back around, waving one hand at the ugly legal pad on the table. “The people I meet up with, hang out with, party with…they wouldn’t do that.”

“But the people on that list, most of them you can’t give me a real last name or a phone number. You know where less than half of them live. You talk to them through social media, where most things have the feeling of being completely anonymous. I—”

Sven quickly cut himself off and stared down at the legal pad.

“What? What were you about to say?” Geoffrey stalked back to the table. He put both hands on the cool top and leaned forward. “Tell me. What were you going to say?”

Sven shook his head, his hand tightening around his phone.

“Fuck it,” Geoffrey snarled and stalked back over to the windows. He hated that Sven censored so much of what he said around him. Did he really think he was going to get fired?

Sven’s voice was low and soft when it drifted across the room. “I don’t understand your definition of friend.”

“What do you mean?” he replied. He glanced over his shoulder to find that Sven was still tense, sitting at the table.

“A friend—for me—is someone that I know well, that I trust. If something were to happen to me, a friend is someone I would trust to look out for my sister or any member of my family. How many of these people you call ‘friend’ would you trust with Finn?”

Nausea washed through Geoffrey’s stomach, making him sick. How many of them would he honestly trust with Finn? One, two…maybe. Fuck, the people he would trust with Finn’s well-being would probably laugh in his face if he referred to any of them as a friend. But he knew deep in his gut that those men were completely trustworthy and loyal. Lucas Vallois and friends were also, unfortunately, out of his league.

The people he hung out with weren’t intended to be the close, do-or-die, trust-with-the-family-fortunes friends. They were drinking buddies. They were there to make him laugh and have a good time and just take a break from the emptiness and the boredom. So he didn’t have a close group of friends that he told all his secrets and fears to. Or even one. Not everyone did. He had Finn. And he had his work. There was nothing wrong with the way he lived.

The aching loneliness he lived with deep in his heart said differently.

His phone vibrated in his pocket and he pulled it out to thumb through the latest messages and posts. A small smile tugged at the left corner of his mouth. This could work. It would prove to Sven that maybe he had some friends who weren’t out to hurt him and knock a few names off that damn list.

“Are you hungry?” he asked, spinning back around to face Sven. “I’m hungry. Let’s go to lunch.”

“Out?”

“Yep. There are some friends who are meeting up in about an hour. That’ll give me just enough time to get ready and get downtown.”

“An hour isn’t enough time to prepare. The house—”

“The house will be fine,” Geoffrey called, already walking toward his bedroom. “You changed the locks last night. Besides, we need to eat!” He quickly disappeared into his room and shut the door. He held his breath, waiting for Sven to argue, but there was no sound of Sven following or pounding on the door, demanding that Geoffrey change their plans. He needed to get out of the house. Claustrophobia was starting to set in. He normally didn’t mind staying in during daytime hours, working on his app, but he couldn’t stand feeling trapped. Staying home had to be his choice.

He also needed to get a little space from Sven, which probably wasn’t the sanest thought since Sven was his damn bodyguard. But just being in the same room with Sven had him constantly bouncing between walking hard-on and screaming frustration. The man was sexy as fuck and just the tiniest of smiles would send him straight over the moon with joy, but most of the time the blond giant was tight-lipped, silent, and stern.

If anything, this whole fiasco was proving to shine a bright light on the reality that there could never be something between Sven and himself. They were too different. Their lives were too different. Ahhh…but a few nights of sex…those could still be so amazing.

 

 

 

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“You announced on Facebook that you’re going to lunch?” Sven asked, his tone utterly incredulous.

Well, it was better than the silent treatment that Geoffrey was anticipating after refusing to let Sven drive that monstrous black SUV he’d arrived in. It looked like something a drug lord would be chauffeured around in with its bulletproof glass and front grill guard.

Of course, he’d argued that it would be impossible to find a spot to park that monster downtown on a sunny Sunday afternoon. They’d be forced to walk blocks to the restaurant, and Geoffrey had no desire to show up sweaty and disgusting thanks to the blistering August sun. Not that his sleek compact SUV was much smaller, but he’d never had any trouble finding a parking spot for it.

And then after fighting over which car they were taking, they fought over who was driving. Sven was not happy about being stuck in the passenger seat at all, but Geoffrey argued that since this person had done nothing to actually threaten his life, then it was still safe for Geoffrey to drive his own car. He even tried to use the excuse that riding shotgun gave Sven the chance to get familiar with Geoffrey’s neighborhood, but that reasoning did little to placate him.

“Sure,” he replied with a shrug as he navigated the car smoothly to a stop at a red light. “I posted a pic of my outfit and a heads up that we’re heading for waffles on all my social media sites. People like that. They like to know what I’m doing and who I’m hanging out with. You know, the social part of social media.”

“But someone following you via social media is trying to hurt you.”

Geoffrey’s hands tightened on the steering wheel. “I know. I was thinking that if this is someone who is a part of my everyday circle of friends, maybe this person will show up at lunch. Maybe hearing their voice will help to trigger my memory of that night.”

Sven softly grunted. Not exactly arguing with Geoffrey’s point, but it wasn’t the most supportive answer.

“And you’ll be there the entire time. You’ll have my back, right?”

“Of course! But we need to be cautious. Plan carefully.”

“We’ll be careful. It’s broad daylight in the middle of one of the busiest parts of the city. And I’ve got you.” He flashed Sven his flirtiest smile and was rewarded a shake of his head, but he saw Sven’s lips flinching as if he were fighting hard to hold back his smile.

“You’re ridiculous and the light is green,” Sven said after a second. The smile might not have appeared on his lips, but Geoffrey could hear it in his voice. That was a win.

Pulling the car into traffic on the expressway, he hummed to himself, feeling just a little bit lighter than he had for a few days. “Tell me you like waffles.”

“Yes.”

“Really?”

He glanced over from the road in time to see Sven give a little self-depreciating roll of his eyes. “I love waffles.”

“Have you been to one of the Taste of Belgium restaurants around the city?”

“No.”

Geoffrey laughed and immediately launched into a detailed listing of everything he could remember from their menu. He’d eaten at Taste of Belgium several times. He loved their waffles, pastries, and beer. But even more, he liked not arguing with Sven at last. They easily chatted about waffles and weird waffle combinations they’d tried as he parked in the garage under The Banks near the Ohio River downtown and walked up to the restaurant.

As they got close, Geoffrey felt his own steps slowing. He could already see the group seated outside, and he didn’t really want to go any longer. Well, he did still want waffles, but a small table for just him and Sven sounded so much more appealing than the large group. But it was already too late, and Sven definitely had no interest in a more private lunch with his client.

“Geoffrey!” Abby threw her hand up in the air and waved wildly at him. Her loud voice soared above the chatter, easily reaching them. He definitely remembered her being there that night. But Abby was harmless.

Yet, as the thought hit him, he immediately scanned the table. He remembered most of the people seated outside, laughing and talking, also being at the bar and the nightclub the evening he was drugged. They were all harmless, right? They were his friends. They wouldn’t want to hurt him.

A large hand gently squeezed his shoulder. It was only when he looked up at Sven that he realized he’d stopped walking. “Did you remember something?”

“No,” he squeaked out. He cleared his throat, but he still couldn’t talk. The world around him began to swirl as panic bore down on him. Maybe it was too soon to go out. Maybe he should have stayed in, gotten some work done, let Rowe and his people have a chance to dig deeper.

Sven’s hand tightened on his shoulder, drawing Geoffrey’s gaze back up to his face. “I’m here. No one will hurt you. I promise.”

Drawing in a deep breath, Geoffrey forced a smile while inwardly clinging to that promise. Everything was going to be fine. These were his friends. He resumed walking, slipping into the outdoor seating area, where his group was now taking up a large swath of tables pulled together in a line.

Abby jumped to her feet and pulled him into a tight hug. He tamped down the immediate question of whether it had been her and hugged her back quickly before pulling away. He had just started to scan the table, taking in its occupants when a voice he would have rather not heard spoke up.

“Who’s your friend?” Brendon asked.

He looked up to find his ex rising from where he’d been partially hidden at the other end of the table behind Aaron. Why the hell was his freaking ex there?

“This is Sven Larsen. He’s helping me with a project,” Geoffrey quickly explained. “I thought we’d just grab a bite to eat before getting back to work.” He gripped a seat and started to pull it out when Sven placed a hand on his elbow, stopping him.

“Why don’t you get together with your friends? I’ll take a picture. For social media,” Sven said.

Geoffrey nearly glared at the man. Sven didn’t want a picture for social media. He planned to send that picture over to Quinn at Ward Security so he could start running background checks and surveillance on his friends. He wanted to be pissed. So fucking pissed…but he couldn’t be. Sven was right.

“Yeah, that sounds great,” he bit out while forcing a smile on his face. Releasing the chair, he slid behind the back side of the table while several other people moved. He swallowed a groan when Brendon walked to stand right next to him, his arm draped over his shoulders. They’d dated for less than six months and the last two months had been pure hell.

When he’d first spotted Brendon in Gaile, he’d thought he was sexy and beautiful. At just under six foot, Brendon had nice height and wonderfully broad shoulders. He even had this Clark Kent kind of thing going with his black hair and dark-rimmed glasses. But then everything out of his mouth was some sharp-barbed criticism of what Geoffrey was doing wrong, all supposedly in the name of helping him.

Brendon lowered his face to Geoffrey’s ear. “Found a new plaything?” he asked, his breath brushing against the outer shell and sending a chill down his back.

“He’s just a friend,” Geoffrey bit out, keeping his focus on Sven as he tried to get Todd and Will to scoot in closer. Veronica’s hair kept blowing up into Christian’s face.

“Everyone knows you like ’em big and strong. Should have known you’d find yourself a Viking.”

“Not fucking. Just friends,” he repeated. Forcing a smile, he shrugged off Brendon’s arm, leaning into Kody on his left. “Now smile!” he shouted, forcing a carefree laugh he didn’t feel.

Sven took enough time to snap several pictures on his phone. As everyone was getting settled in their seats, Geoffrey checked his own phone when he felt it buzz. Sven had sent him one of the pictures of them all gathered together. A light breeze off the river stirred their hair and the dark overhead awning was shielding them from the bright August sun. Smiles and laughs abounded as if they didn’t have a care in the world. The table before them was already littered with pints of beers and half-drunk glasses of Bloody Marys. But something in the picture felt off, wrong on a bone-deep level that he couldn’t explain and couldn’t shake. So he didn’t post it on social media.

“Sven,” Kody started as soon as they were all settled at the table again. Geoffrey nearly growled. Sven had barely opened his menu when Kody spoke. Couldn’t he let the poor guy have a moment? “What are you and Geoffrey working on?”

“Geoffrey would prefer to keep our project quiet until it’s ready,” Sven smoothly said, not even bothering to look up from the menu.

Geoffrey just sat back and smiled, not bothering to look at the menu. He was getting the Belgian chocolate and cream waffle. After the past few days he’d gotten through, he fucking deserved it. He’d suffer through an extra hour on his treadmill later.

“How do you and Geoffrey know each other?”

“We met through mutual friends.” Sven put his menu down in front of him and folded his hands on top of it. He focused his cold blue eyes directly on Kody. “How did you meet Geoffrey?”

“A bar.” Kody looked over at Geoffrey. “We were drinking at Shiver, right?”

Someone at the other end of the table groaned and lamented the loss of Shiver, which tended to happen anytime someone mentioned the club owned by Lucas Vallois that had burned down nearly a year ago.

Geoffrey just shrugged. He’d known Kody for a couple of years. They weren’t particularly close, but he had been a steady presence in the drinking, dancing, and clubbing scene. He was a good person to see a movie with because he didn’t talk during the good parts and was happy to share the armrest in the theater.

“Do you code?” Abby asked, picking up the thread that Kody had started.

Todd snorted from where he sat next to Abby. “Yeah, you definitely don’t look the type to spend your day behind a computer.”

“What kind of stereotype bullshit is that? Why couldn’t he code?” Geoffrey snapped. He leaned forward to look down the table at Todd. Will, Todd’s boyfriend, just sat back and shook his head.

“Don’t get all huffy, Geo,” Patrick said, his voice warm and placating. “Why don’t you order us all a round of Bloody Marys?”

“You’ve had enough already,” Geoffrey grumbled.

“We all know your type. Tall. Big.”

“Football players. Weight lifters. Those big Marines.” Abby counted off each one of her fingers.

Brendon snorted. “And that surgeon. What was his name? Frost? You were fucking all over him like a puppy whenever you saw him out.”

He could feel his cheeks turning a blistering red as heat rushed to him at the mention of Snow. Yeah, he’d made an ass of himself over the doctor, but then it had turned out that the man wasn’t just amazing to look at. He’d turned out to be a pretty amazing person as well.

“Whatever,” Geoffrey grumbled. He lowered his eyes to his untouched menu. He wanted to talk about anything but his sexual types. Particularly when the person he wanted the most was seated across from him and didn’t seem to want anything to do with him. Story of his fucking life. First Snow and now Sven. He should have known when he “caught” Brendon that he was a mistake, and now it seemed like he couldn’t get rid of the man.

“Look, I’m just saying that Sven doesn’t seem like the computer type,” Todd continued. Geoffrey glared up the table at Todd, grinding his teeth together. “You’re more like…the big, silent type. And Geoffrey just needs you—”

Geoffrey jumped to his feet, knocking his chair backward with a loud crash. He didn’t care that Todd was teasing him about his sex life. Yeah, he’d made the enormous mistake of fucking Todd once a few years ago when they were both drunk and lonely. And Geoffrey had told him that he liked to be held down, that he liked the feel of a strong body pinning him. He felt no shame over his sexual preferences.

But the word that Todd was carefully not mentioning was “dumb” when it came to describing Sven. And after spending just a few hours with Sven, he knew the man wasn’t dumb. He was quiet and reserved, but he was fucking smart.

He was also reducing Sven to a brainless, emotionless sex toy. Sven was willing to put his life on the line to protect Geoffrey, to protect any of his clients. He didn’t deserve to be demeaned in such a way. There was more to the man than his massive size. So much more, and Geoffrey just wanted a little glimpse of Sven’s world, but if his friends represented who he was, maybe he didn’t deserve to have a shot at Sven. And that fucking hurt.

“Fuck you!” he shouted, pointing at Todd. “You don’t know him. You don’t know anything about him. You don’t know his kindness or his gentleness or what he’s done to help people. You just take one look at his size and assume that he’s fucking me.” Geoffrey was vaguely aware that everyone around them at the restaurant was staring, but he didn’t care. His heart hurt for Sven. These people were judging him and they didn’t know a damn thing about him.

“Geoffrey…” Sven said firmly but softly. He looked over at Sven, who was also standing, to see him give a small shake of his head, but he didn’t care.

“Hey, Geo, we didn’t mean anything,” Patrick said.

“Yeah, I know. It’s all just one big joke to you. I’m just a joke to you.” He heard several people give soft, placating nos, but he wasn’t sure who spoke. “That’s fine. Whatever. But he’s not a joke.” He pointed at Sven while trying to ignore the tightening in his throat. “He’s the real deal. A great person and he doesn’t deserve your bullshit. Fuck this.”

Turning on his heel, he stomped away from the table, weaving past a stunned server to the opening in the large, black planters that lined the outer perimeter of the outdoor seating area so that he could get back to the sidewalk. He knew that Sven was following, and for a moment, he wished he wasn’t. He felt like a damn idiot, but he wouldn’t take a word of it back.

It didn’t matter if his so-called friends thought he was a joke. He refused to let them think of Sven that way. The bodyguard risked his own life to keep people safe, and while Geoffrey couldn’t tell his friends that, they would not think he was just some mindless fuck toy. Sven was worth more than all of them combined.