“Most beds are. I’ll manage.” I looked down the hall. “Which one is yours?”
“One floor up.” He pointed. “Does your house have the attic suite too? They’re kind of alike. Made by the same builder, I expect.”
“Yeah. Grandpa uses it as a guest room.” Which made me remember again, bitterly, that Uncle Wayne had claimed that space as his own. “You didn’t take the main bedroom when you moved back?”
Zeke shuddered. “My dad’s room, and Krystal’s. I don’t think I’d ever be comfortable in there. I haven’t—” He stopped short.
“Haven’t what?”
“Haven’t really been in it since Dad died. I asked for the attic way back when Mom left, like a refuge, and Dad let me. When he married Krystal, and later there was a crying baby, I was glad.”
I wanted to tease the bleak look out of his eyes. “Long way to sneak a boyfriend in, though. All those creaking stairs.”
He blinked, then laughed. “Yeah, never did that. I snuck out a time or two, though, and yes, I still know which tread sounds like a dying cow.”
“Maybe you’ll have to show me sometime?”
Humor shifted to heat between us, a moment of held breath and roving eyes. “Tonight?” he murmured. “I’ll probably stay up a few more hours. I’m trying to prepare for my next shift change.”
God, I was so tempted. Follow him up the stairs and lose the pains of the day in the heat of his body. But I ached all over from the game, and I could feel the adrenaline crash looming over me. If I had Zeke in a bed, I wanted it to be when I could keep my eyes open. I brushed past him into the room. “I wish. But I might fall asleep with your dick in my mouth.”
“That would be bad for my ego,” he agreed, leaning in the doorway. “Raincheck?”
“Absolutely.”
“Want some sweats to sleep in?”
“Nah. Underwear will do.” The echo of that moment of awareness made me raise my hands to my dress shirt, flicking the buttons open, my eyes fixed on him.
Zeke followed the motion of my fingers intently, then raised his gaze. “You’re a tease.”
“You object?”
“Not even slightly. Can’t wait.” He stepped back. “Tomorrow’s Sunday. Sleep in if you want. I will, and we’ll be lucky if we see Jos by noon. Alarm code is five-nine-two-four if you decide to head out. Reset it to ‘home’ when you go.”
“See you in the morning.” I slid my loose tie from around my neck, running it through my fingers. “And… thank you. You have no idea.”
He looked down again, following my hands on the silk, which gave me some thoughts. Then he said, “Sleep well,” and shut the door between us.
I stood there in my open dress shirt and slacks, listening. A faint thump and creak came from down the hall, probably Zeke heading up the attic stairs. If there was a tread that groaned loudly, he must’ve stepped over it.
A small lamp sat beside the bed. I switched it on, turned off the overheads, shucked off my shoes, socks, shirt and slacks, and slid between the cool sheets in my briefs. Thinking about Zeke one floor above, stripping down and climbing into his bed, distracted me enough that I could turn out the lamp and close my eyes and not see the other disasters of the day in a continuous loop behind my eyelids. I imagined his flashing eyes, his trim hips and his curved, cut dick with heavy, furry balls beneath, and let sleep take me.
CHAPTER 10
ZEKE
I woke slowly next morning, the sun between my curtains casting a bright stripe across my face. I was going to roll over and hide in my pillows when I remembered Callum was sleeping downstairs. Or perhaps not sleeping, since that much sunlight on a March day meant I’d slept late.
My attic suite had a modest bathroom, so I staggered in there, took care of business, and splashed some water on my face. I still hadn’t cut my hair, but I couldn’t do anything about that now. I pulled on a fairly new pair of sweats, shaved with more care than usual, and brushed my teeth.
Heading downstairs, I paused at the second-floor landing to peer down the hall. Jos’s door stood shut, but Callum’s was ajar, and sounds came from the bathroom. I hadn’t beaten him by much.
The sunlight brightened the kitchen, warming the tiles under my bare feet. I started the coffeemaker, then opened the refrigerator and peered in, contemplating breakfast. Callum was an athlete, which presumably meant he burned lots of calories and needed plenty of protein. Bacon and eggs would do, or I could go fancy with French toast, which would please Jos, if and when he graced us with his presence.
A knock on the front door caught me by surprise and I padded that way, pausing to pull the front curtain open and look out. Olivia and her wife Nicole stood on the step, Olivia carrying a grocery bag, and Nicole holding a pastry box. I hurried to turn off the alarm and open the door. “Hey, problems?”
“Good morning to you, too.” Olivia grinned at me. “We come bearing gifts.”
