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  Dylan could picture it. The liquor aisle at the Tynan grocery store, where they had first met. All the bright colored labels, calling out to him. He’d resisted. The song relayed fucking in the rain in the back of Tyler’s pick-up. What had ever happened to that truck?

  “We took a long ride home. Heads turned in my direction.”

  The song that had gotten the band off the ground. Written after they’d fought during Tyler’s first visit to Hughes Castle. A song he still had completely memorized. He had most of their songs memorized.

  “What did it get us? The first time I went parking with you...”

  Dylan’s eyes squeezed shut tighter. He felt like sinking to the floor again. He resisted, straightening instead. Benjamin’s hulking form was obvious beside him; not comforting in the least. He felt he was being judged. The security team was familiar with the songs already. Who knew how many times they’d listened? What they thought of the situation.

  The first song bled into the second. It was about moving on, or trying to. It was a faster beat with lyrics that poked fun at romantic failure. The third song made him feel the worst. Ultimately, it was about Dylan moving on and while he never said names, it was obviously about giving Jordan permission to pursue him. The notes of Dani’s violin felt like they were piercing into his gut, cutting him open to let Tyler’s voice finish killing him slowly. The fourth song, the shortest was about the Real Talk they’d had in his studio.

  “Fuck,” Dylan sighed. He was really wishing he felt the weight of those pills in his pocket again. He opened his eyes, looking up at the stage as the last song started.

  “If we could do it over, I wouldn’t change a thing. Let’s rewind and press play again.”

  “Fuck,” he repeated. The corners of his eyes burned. The lights went down as the last vibration from Dani’s violin and Jordan’s bass dissipated. The crowd went wild in the darkness. The lights lifted one more time for the band to stand, wave, bow, shake a few hands, then make their way from the stage.

  He turned on his heel, heading out the door.

  “Where are you going?” Benjamin caught him a few feet outside the door.

  “You have two choices.” Dylan shoved him against the brick façade of the venue. “You can follow me to a bar of my choosing and watch me drink whatever I want for as long as I want. Or, we can go back to my apartment and fuck. Those are the only two things I want right now, and you’re killing my vibe to get the latter from anyone else.”

  Benjamin was carefully silent. “You’re angry.”

  “It’s better than feeling nothing.”

  “My place is closer.” Benjamin reached into his pocket. He sent out a text on his phone before holding out a hand. “Come on.”

  Chapter Six

  Dylan groaned as he came to the next morning. The mattress felt squishy. The sheets were slippery; cheap polyester. There was a strange weight between his knees. Most annoying of all, he seemed to be alone.

  “Do you drink coffee? You hang out in a café, but I don’t know your order.”

  Dylan cracked an eye open. Benjamin was already dressed in a simple black suit. It looked good on him.

  “Where am I?”

  “You’re at my place,” Benjamin held out a cup of coffee. “I slipped you something when we first got here. I was worried you’d do something you’d regret.”

  Dylan grunted. He sat up, looking between his knees. A gigantic multicolored cat was stretched out, snoring peacefully.

  “Sorry about Goliath.” Benjamin set the coffee on the side table. “He doesn’t usually like strangers, but he wouldn’t leave you alone after I got you tucked in last night.”

  “You took my shirt off. And my pants.”

  “I didn’t cop a feel, if that’s what you’re implying.”

  “Did you sleep with me?”

  “I slept on the couch.”

  Dylan grunted again, falling back into the pillows. “You owe me an orgasm.”

  “That would be unprofessional, given my position.”

  “Tell that to every bodyguard that has ever been with a starlet.” Dylan wasn’t sure how to move from the bed. “Are you sure this is a cat and not a small dog?”

  “Positive. He’s a Maine Coon. They’re quite large. He’s a big softie. Loves to cuddle, though not usually with strangers.” Benjamin reached over, stroking the cat’s head. His tone softened, “Goliath. Wake up.” Dylan groaned as the cat stretched and flexed its back toes into his thigh. “Come on, so Dylan can get up.” He had to use both hands to scoop up the cat. It looked like he was carting around an infant. The cat wrapped its paws around his neck, purring as it pushed its face against his.

  “I can drop you off at your apartment before I have to report in,” Benjamin offered, somehow maintaining an air of professionalism as he was headbutted by the furball. “Your clothes are on the chair.” He cocked his head. “Bathroom is just there. Sugar and cream for your coffee, if you want it, are in the kitchen. There’s a little left in the pot, if you want more.” He padded away, still barefoot, to deposit the cat on the couch.

  Dylan looked around the apartment. He’d woken up in worse.

  “Do my parents not pay you enough?” He asked, picking up the coffee mug. He took a sip of the dark liquid and grimaced. The man wouldn’t hack it as a barista, that was for sure.

  “What do you mean?” Benjamin picked up a lint roller, dabbing it at the cat hair that now coated his jacket. “Damn it, Goliath...”

  “This is nice as far as shitholes go.” Dylan took another drink of the coffee. “But come on. This is rough living.”

  “It’s cheap and I’m allowed to keep the cat,” Benjamin answered. “It serves my needs.”

  “After army barracks, I suppose anything is survivable,” Dylan answered. He set the cup down on the island between the kitchen and the living room. He picked up his shirt, pulling it over his head, then pulled his pants back on. “Where are my shoes?”

  “By the door, where you kicked them off.”

  “Do my parents know you drugged me?”

  “I didn’t drug you,” Benjamin answered. “I gave you something to put you to sleep. If I’d wanted to hurt you, I would have let you keep the Molly.”

  “That would have been kinder.” Dylan went back to his coffee, adding sugar and milk. It was better. He looked at Benjamin, who was still de-furring. “Who will be following me today?”

  “No one,” Benjamin answered. “Although, David would appreciate you stopping by the house today. He’d like to talk to you.”

  “About what?”

  “About cutting you loose.”

  Dylan gave an amused sniff, drinking the rest of the coffee. “As if I’ll ever be that fucking lucky.”

  “You usually work in the studio on Saturdays,” Benjamin reminded him.

  “I do,” Dylan said. “I’ll probably be there for a little while. I have other things going on today. Pixie is visiting. I’ll probably go to a meeting.”

  “You’re back to being off the sauce?”

  “Did you look at that bottle last night?” Dylan asked.

  “What about it?”

  “It was non-alcoholic. Part of why it tasted so fucking awful.”

  “Are you serious?”

  “Yes. They still only serve it upstairs,” Dylan answered. He rinsed the mug out in the sink, leaving it for Benjamin to do as he would with it.

  Benjamin’s eyes closed and sighed, feeling stupid. “The pills?”

  “Oh, that was real fucking Molly you wasted,” Dylan told him. “I was going to flush it. That girl was going to kill somebody. It was way too easy to buy her stash. You should have dumped the pills directly into the beer to dissolve them. If the bottle gets broken, someone could just pick them up. I mean, the baggy probably wasn’t completely water proof. Fingers crossed some homeless person doesn’t find them and OD.”

  “Fuck.”

  “Speaking of,” Dylan leaned on the kitchen island, looking directly at
him, “tell me the truth. If you didn’t work for my parents, would you sleep with me?”

  Benjamin set down the roller. He straightened the jacket as he stepped closer to the island. He picked up his own coffee cup, taking a drink before he answered.

  “I tend to be attracted to larger, more masculine men.”

  “Ooh, ouch,” Dylan pressed a hand to chest. “I’m not masculine enough?”

  “The beard looked good on you,” Benjamin countered. “Your morning scruff is a bit of a turn-on. The clean shave makes you look like a schoolboy.”

  Dylan felt his lips tweak. “I guess it’s true. You can’t please everyone.”

  “Just a preference,” Benjamin retorted. “I like men that are men, women that are women. I’m not averse to being with a trans-person.” He frowned, considering something before speaking again. “Dani Stoker is non-binary. I’d be curious about what being with her would be like.”

  “I’m learning so much about you.” Dylan rested his chin on his palm, staring up at him. “How about a barter? What can I give you to make you lose your pants?”

  “Hypothetically?”

  “I was very serious last night. Booze or sex. I got neither. Instead, you drugged me and I could have been suffocated by your mutant cat.”

  “Goliath isn’t a mutant. His size is a trait of the breed.”

  “Uh-huh. Well, your cat seemed to have spent most of his night keeping my balls cozy.”

  Benjamin took another drink of his coffee. “We don’t have time for this.”

  “What does sex mean to you?” Dylan asked.

  “Doesn’t it mean the same to everyone?”

  “Hardly.”

  “Mr. Montgomery,” Benjamin took on the air of professional, “doing anything in the realm of a sexual encounter would put my job at risk. I need this job.”

  “Why?”

  “So that I can feed my mutant cat.”

  “Quit working for my parents. Work for me instead.”

  “You don’t like me.” Dylan picked up a hint of self-awareness in Benjamin’s tone.

  “That isn’t true.” Dylan shook his head. “You’re persistent, which is annoying. You did manage to keep up with me while I was trying adamantly to lose you. You thought I was doing something wrong and you stopped me.” He straightened, looking at him closely. “The others don’t stop me, Benjamin. They let me do what I’m going to do and then clean up the mess.”

  “You worked hard for your sobriety,” Benjamin countered. “I would hope that any of the others would have stopped you last night too.”

  “They wouldn’t have,” Dylan insisted.

  “That’s disappointing.”

  “I’m used to being disappointed.”

  “Then you’re fine with my declining.”

  “There isn’t anything I can do to change your mind?”

  Benjamin finished his coffee. “Give me your phone number.”

  “Is that all?”

  “The phone number isn’t for me.”

  “Selling yourself to do David’s dirty work?”

  “David doesn’t need to know how I got it.”

  “How do I know that if I give you the number, you’ll follow through on the orgasm?”

  “How do I know if I give you the orgasm, you’ll follow through on the number?”

  “Touché.”

  Benjamin circled the counter, pulling open a drawer. He withdrew a notepad and a pencil. “Here. Write the number on here and stick it in the freezer.”

  “In the freezer?”

  “I don’t have X-ray vision.”

  Dylan picked up the pencil, scrawling a set of numbers onto the top sheet of the notepad. He ripped the page out, folding it in half. The freezer was fully stocked with bachelor food. Frozen dinners, pizza rolls, and Hot Pockets. He slipped the paper between two boxes of Chicken Pot Pies.

  “How do you know I didn’t lie?” Dylan asked, closing the door again. Benjamin was at his elbow.

  “You don’t lie.” Benjamin’s breath was warm against his lips. “We don’t have a lot of time.”

  The change in the man’s demeanor as he became the instigator was massive. His hands went directly for the front of Dylan’s jeans. With the fly parted, he started pushing him out of the kitchenette, back to the bed. Dylan pushed Benjamin’s jacket from his shoulders, tossing it onto the chair his clothes had rested on and started unbuttoning the shirt.

  “Leave it.” He redirected Dylan’s hands, out of the way. His kiss deepened, making Dylan groan. He was a really good kisser when he was into it. They fell onto the bed and Benjamin shoved Dylan’s shirt up, exposing his chest. He started a trail of kisses down the other man’s torso.

  “No way.” Dylan sucked in a breath. He grabbed Benjamin’s collar. “I already had one guy try to get away with just getting me off. You too.” He bit his lip. “Lube?”

  Benjamin leaned over to yank open the drawer of the nightstand. He tossed a small bottle at Dylan who caught it before it thumped against his chest. He rustled around some more, fishing out two condoms.

  “Mess control,” he explained, handing one of them to Dylan. “I don’t have another suit and you’re already hard.”

  “You too,” Dylan noted.

  “I’ve been hard since I took your clothes off you last night.”

  Dylan chuckled. “Regretting drugging me now? We could have had more fun last night than this quick rub down.”

  Benjamin didn’t answer, silencing him again with his mouth.

  ***

  The car was eerily silent on the short drive across town. Dropping Dylan off at the apartment was taking Benjamin out of his way, but he had insisted. Dylan had enjoyed their brief tryst, but he could read that Benjamin was regretting it.

  “I’m sorry,” he finally spoke up.

  “For what, sir?” Benjamin had put on his Employee mask again.

  “For bartering sex with you. Using you for my own personal gain.”

  “I wouldn’t have done it if I didn’t want to.”

  “I won’t tell David, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

  “I’ll tell him myself.”

  “And get fired?”

  “I don’t think I’ll get fired,” Benjamin countered. “I’ll be reassigned and reprimanded.” He allowed his eyes to waver toward him for just a moment. “There aren’t any rules against it.”

  “That will change,” Dylan warned. “My offer stands, you know. You could quit and go on my payroll instead.”

  “I’m not going to let you pay me to have sex with you.”

  “Who said anything about having sex with you again? Once was enough.”

  “Yes, it was.”

  “You sound disappointed.” Dylan watched Benjamin’s jaw tighten. He lowered his voice, unable to resist teasing him. “Are you already hard again?”

  “Your apartment, Mr. Montgomery.” The car pulled to the curb in front of the apartments. “Have a good rest of your day.”

  Dylan unclipped the seatbelt, letting it retract backward. He leaned across the space between them, pressing his lips to Benjamin’s cheek. “You can tell David if you really want to, but it’s fine if it’s just between us. Thank you for taking care of me last night. I do appreciate it.”

  “It’s my job.”

  Dylan chuckled. “You did a better job in a single night, than any of our long-time security has done since I was thirteen. Not including the sex. That was a happy bonus.” He slid away, opening the car door. “See you around. If you don’t get fired.”

  Chapter Seven

  “You’re back!” Jack was sitting on the couch as Dylan opened. “Where were you last night? I never saw you at the Rose. You weren’t here when we got back. I was worried. You didn’t answer my texts.”

  “My phone was off,” Dylan offered. “Don’t worry. I was with my parent’s watch dog all evening.”

  “Were you at the show?”

  “I was,” Dylan confirmed. “I left immed
iately after.”

  “Did you stay for the encore?”

  “It would have been rude to leave before that, wouldn’t it?”

  “You heard the songs?”

  “I did.”

  “And?”

  “I went back to a relative stranger’s apartment with the understanding that he was either going to watch me get shitfaced or fuck me.” Dylan shrugged. “He drugged me instead. I woke up this morning with a monster cat sleeping on my crotch.”

  Jack wasn’t sure how to react to that information. Dylan didn’t give him adequate time to respond, striding past him toward the bedrooms.

  “I’m gross and tired. I’m going to take a shower and go back to bed for a couple of hours. See if Pixie wants to have lunch? Then I have some errands to run today.”

  “Heath is leaving on Monday,” Jordan called after him. “We were going to have a big dinner up at Mora’s tonight. Play video games, do some karaoke. You’re invited.”

  “If Tyler Norse is going to be there, it’s better I stay away. Besides, Heath doesn’t like me. He wouldn’t want me at his bon voyage.”

  “Dylan.” The couch creaked as Jack stood, starting to follow him. Rather than wait and talk, Dylan closed the bathroom door and flicked over the lock.

  He pulled out his phone, powering it back on as he shucked his clothes to the floor. He turned the shower on to heat up while he brushed his teeth. Before hopping under the hot water, he sent off a quick text.

  [YOU] I’m still sober, but not in the mood for a meeting. I need your help on something.

  [YOU] Teach me how to put a comic online.

  By the time he had gotten out of the shower again, there was a reply.

  [TRAVIS] I already looked into some options. Can we meet up and talk tech specs?

  [YOU] My place, tonight? Bring Garret. We can hang out?

  [TRAVIS] Sure. As long as you don’t mind being openly shipped. He calls you TyLan. It’s weird.

  Dylan chuckled, shaking his head.

  [YOU] I haven’t made any decisions about Tyler yet, but I am ready to start responding.

  ***

  “You wanted to see me?”