by M. Tasia
Construction had resumed at full steam, and the restaurant and bar area were coming along nicely. The front lobby and lounge areas were almost ready to be decorated. That was his next task, finding an interior designer who understood what Saint wanted this building to express. But that was for him to deal with next month.
At this moment, Max had a surprise for him and Saint loved surprises. Well, the good kind, at least. He walked through the beautifully renovated hub with its pictures on the walls, flat-screen television, and a sectional sofa fit for a king. Saint had decided that once his condo was ready he’d leave this back area to Finn. It would be his apartment when the time came. Of course, Finn refused to take it until Saint clarified that it was part of the contract Finn had signed when he took his position as manager.
Saint had spent days poring over Finn’s contract before presenting it to him. He knew Finn trusted him, and Saint used that to his advantage. Well, in truth, to Finn’s advantage. Saint figured that if he placed these provisos in the contract, Finn wouldn’t be able to fight him on it. Okay, yeah, it was underhanded but the kid was his responsibility. He wouldn’t allow another LGBTQ youth to fall through the cracks,
Saint continued walking to the restaurant/ bar area, where Max, Finn, and Miguel told him to meet them. He’d never imagined the joy he would feel from having perfectly restored moldings above each door and window, or the unmarred surfaces of wood and drywall encasing the large restaurant-bar-lounge area. They hadn’t gotten so far as to put artwork on the walls or to pick paint colors, but it was a marked improvement from the space he’d walked into nearly a year ago.
He walked into the bar area to find Max, Finn, and Miguel waiting for him. In the background, Saint could hear hammering and the whir of saws. The crew was progressing to the first-floor condominiums.
“There you are,” Max said. “I was about to send out a search party.”
Saint couldn’t help but smile. The sight of his partner always managed to brighten his day. “I’m here. Now where’s my surprise?” Saint laughed as he walked into his lover’s arms and kissed him until he heard that slight moan that turned Saint on every time.
Laughter in the background brought Saint back to the fact that they weren’t alone. Breaking the kiss, Saint pulled Max into his arms instead. He could see a blanket covering something hanging on the main wall over the bar.
Max led Saint a few feet in front of whatever the sheet was covering. “Patience is a virtue, babe.”
“You know I haven’t got a speck of virtue left, so show me already,” Saint urged as he cuddled further into Max’s arm.
Finn stood from one of the old bar stools and walked over to grab one corner of the sheet, without pulling it away. The kid looked over at them and waited.
Max held Saint out at arms’ length, and cupped the side of his face. “I love you.”
“I love you too, Max.”
“I know how much this building and especially the wood carvings around the bar mean to you. I want to show you how much you mean to me,” Max said as his thumb rubbed along Saint’s cheekbone.
“You show me every day, Max. I have never doubted what we have together, even when we were apart for that week.”
“I should have never taken my own fears of abandonment out on you.”
Both he and Max were going to therapy now. Saint was reconciling his past, as Max dealt with his father’s desertion of their family and the suffering that had caused.
“Max, we’ve both had issues to deal with. Now it’s time for you to take your own advice. It’s not your fault. I love you and that’s more than enough to make me happy.”
His lover’s face softened as he looked at Saint. This was love, and Saint knew better than to take it for granted.
“I wanted to give this to you and I wanted to hang it in a place of honor.”
Saint smiled wide as Max said, “Finn, pull the sheet off.”
A whoosh of air announced the reveal of Max’s gift. Saint turned and was humbled by what he saw. The restored wood panel with heaven’s gates, opening to welcome all souls in, hung behind a case of glass. There was no longer a chance of the precious carving being damaged while it hung behind glass for all to see.
Saint couldn’t help but wonder if his mother was looking down. He hoped she’d be proud.
“It’s…perfect.” It truly was, and Saint felt every good, sweet, delicious emotion that flooded his heart. “Thank you for making my memory a reality. In honor of my mother, I’ve decided on a name for this building. Gates of Heaven, ‘The Gates’ for short.”
“I think it’s fitting,” Max said as he pulled Saint even closer. “A Saint watching over the Gates of Heaven.”
Saint had to agree. He’d finally found the place where he truly fit.
Turn the page for a sneak peak of Finn’s story…
Come back to DTLA for the next book in the
Gates of Heaven series
The harsh gleam from the sunlight reflecting off the large windows of the high-rise office building temporarily blinded Finn. He moved to the side, stopped walking, and began rubbing his eyes to clear away the blurriness the bright light had caused.
His backpack went flying when someone shouldered him out of the way. “Idiot, you can’t stop in the middle of the sidewalk.” I wasn’t in the middle. Asshole.
Finn quickly grabbed his bag up from the ground before anyone decided to take off with it. The tall guy who had run in to him carried on walking with his friends as if running into Finn hadn’t been worth a pardon me, or even sorry. He shoved his return comment down before it had the chance of getting past his lips. It was the first day of his return to college. He didn’t need to draw more attention to himself.
Cal State DTLA was located in an office tower on the corner of West Eighth Street and South Grand Avenue in an imposing building of stone, steel, and glass, a far cry from the old buildings being renovated throughout DTLA, which were bringing new life to a neglected part of downtown.
Clearly, fate hated Finn. The jerk walked into the same building Finn was heading for. Big building. Lots of offices—he doubted he’d ever see the guy again.
Finn had been thankful when he discovered that most of his classes were available online, but unfortunately not all of them. Which explained his visit to the campus this morning. By the time he pushed one of the exterior doors open and stepped into the lobby, there wasn’t a sign of the other man. Finn tossed the guy in the mental trash bin and walked to the bank of elevators.
People in suits and dresses hurried by as others he presumed were fellow students sat in a lounge area fitted with couches and chairs. He took in a deep breath and he kept telling himself that he belonged here the same as everybody else. He wasn’t a street kid anymore. He was the manager of the Gates of Heaven building, or “The Gates” as it was currently being referred to.
The boss trusted him and he wouldn’t disappoint the only person who cared enough to help him when Finn needed it most. He looked up at the lit numbers above each of the four elevators and realized he was going to be waiting a few minutes. Great. More time to talk myself out of this. I’m gonna embarrass myself. And fail. Am I even smart enough to be here? Will Saint find out I’m not what he needs to help run his building?
Mere moments before he made his move to turn and run out of the building, a large arm wrapped around his waist possessively. The earthy, spicy scent of cologne soothed his frazzled nerves.
“Hey there. Imagine finding you here,” Miguel teased before pulling Finn even closer.
“What are you doing here?” Finn asked in a bit of shock.
“It’s never a bad idea to have backup,” Miguel told him, as if they were in one of Miguel’s former Marine units.
He knew Miguel was here to support him. Finn hadn’t been able to disguise his nervousness thinking about today. In truth, Finn couldn’t hide anything from Miguel. Even his longing for the big guy to see him as more of a partner instead of a kid. The one an
d only time Finn had worked up the nerve to hit on Miguel, the older man had hugged him but made sure Finn understood they could only be friends.
Even though it sounded odd, or a little fucked up, Finn had been happy that the boss’s father had shown up that night. After getting shot down at the club, Finn thought he’d have to live with that embarrassment. Instead, what Finn had done was swept under the rug in the wake of more important issues.
“I’m not going to war, Miguel. I’ll be in classes, where I risk at most a paper cut.”
“Humor me. This will be the first full day you’re away from the building. I’m having separation anxiety.” Miguel smiled wide. God, he was a handsome bugger.
“Separation anxiety, huh, okay, daddy,” Finn teased.
The deep growl Miguel covered up by coughing was neither angry nor teasing. It was straight up hot, and filled with promises he knew Miguel never intended to keep. Finn wasn’t sure what bothered Miguel the most: Finn’s age, or that he’d been a street kid, doing whatever was needed to survive.
The elevator dinged and the doors slid open before anything more could be said. Finn pushed the button for the sixth floor as they stepped on, followed by a half dozen other people. Miguel had come to support him, Finn should have been happy instead of feeling confused. Well, you can’t rush a man, Finn’s mother used to say. With that chestnut packed into his brain, he’d decided his emotions were simply another part of himself he’d pack away. It was far too risky to have them flying around willy-nilly.
“Thank you for coming, Miguel. I appreciate it.” Finn did, considering he had been seconds away from bolting out of the building. “You seem to always know when I need you.”
“That’s what friends are for, Finn. You have a lot of people who care about you. This whole situation is probably intimidating as all hell,” Miguel stated as an older woman standing in front of the elevator doors tsked at him. “Sorry, ma’am.” At Miguel’s apology for cussing—really, hell wasn’t cussing, and who cared about that shit anymore—the woman smiled before getting off on the third floor.
The elevator continued up and Finn almost melted into Miguel’s arm. He could feel his resolve returning. Yes, I’m smart enough. No, I’m not going to fail. And Saint won’t kick me out. Finn took a deep breath and felt the remainder of his stress slip away.
“Better now?” Miguel asked in little more than a whisper. Leave it to the big guy not to draw attention to Finn’s freak-out.
“Yes, much better.” Every time you hold me.
The bell dinged for the sixth floor. “Good, now go out there and kick ass,” Miguel said as he ushered Finn out of the elevator doors without stepping off himself. “I’m proud of you, Finn.”
Before Finn could respond, the doors slid closed and Finn found himself staring at his own reflection in the shiny metal doors. He stood straighter and threw his bag over his shoulder. I can do this.
He walked down the hall to the classroom indicated on his schedule. His confidence returned and Finn walked in ready to take on the world. Unfortunately, the first person Finn saw sitting at the back of the room was none other than the asshole from earlier.
With one slimy smirk in his direction, Finn was back at square one. It wasn’t as if he wasn’t familiar with bullies, but he’d hoped that was buried in the past. Finn squared his shoulders and took a seat near the front.
The ace up Finn’s sleeve was the fact that this guy had no idea the hell Finn had been through. Nothing some twenty-two-year-old designer-wearing wannabe could do to him would ever compare to what Finn had lived through, survived, and had now triumphed over.
He was Finley Eric Masterson, and he had every right to be here.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
M. Tasia lives in a small town in Ontario, Canada. She’s a member of the Romance Writers of America and its Rainbow Romance Writers and Toronto Romance Writers chapters. Michelle is a dedicated people-watcher, lover of romance novels, ‘80s rock, and happy endings. Also, she’s the mother of two wonderful girls, wife to a great husband, and servant to two spoiled furry children who don’t seem to realize that they’re actually cats.
Michelle writes contemporary and paranormal romance, and she believes love should be celebrated. After all, everybody needs a little romance, excitement, intrigue and passion in their lives.
Connect with Michelle:
mtasiabooks.com
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twitter.com/mtasiaauthor
instagram.com/m.tasia.author/
www.BOROUGHSPUBLISHINGGROUP.com
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