I leaned against the sink and took him in from head to toe. For how gently he’d treated me, he was rough and fast with himself, which was more his style in general. Remy turned toward me and stepped out of the running shower while he smoothed his bleached hair back with both hands. I held a towel out for him, which he took and tossed over his shoulder. He shooed me away from the door and breezed out into the hall with a billow of steam following him. I looked toward the open door, then back at the running water before opting to shut the water off.
I listened for Remy but didn’t hear anything, so I went after him. “You’re dripping wet. What are you doing?” I followed the wet footprints to my room and found Remy sitting on his towel at the edge of the bed, legs spread wide, and his hand leisurely stroking his cock to full hardness.
My mouth went dry, and I froze in the threshold.
“Come ’ere. I’ve been waiting too long to get that monster cock in my mouth again.”
Well. That got me moving.
“Dude, are you sure you’re good to be here?”
I turned to Mac, careful to keep my left hand on the handle of the stair climber I was using and narrowed my eyes at him.
“Fine, fine. I’m just asking. It’s only been a few weeks.”
In truth, I loved that Macalister cared about me the way he did. He could be overbearing and intrusive at times—most times—but his heart was in the right place, and I could never be angry about that. “I saw my doctor a couple of days ago. I’m cleared for light cardio and weights on my left arm.”
He sighed. I couldn’t tell if it was in relief or over having to do more cardio than he’d like. “Well, you could have just led with that, you cryptic bastard.”
The timers on our machines went off, and we slowed for a quick cooldown before hopping off. After one-armed rowing and the stair climber, I was exhausted. Three weeks without a proper workout was too long.
Macalister tapped me on the chest with the back of his hand, a casual gesture that normally would have landed on my arm. Had it not been in a brace. “Wanna hit the bike today too? Or have you had your ass kicked enough today?”
The corner of my lips turned up in a grin, and I shook my head.
“Yeah, I thought so. Shower time?”
“Actually, do you mind helping me stretch? Remy usually does it, but we didn’t have time this morning.”
Macalister raised his eyebrows at that. “Oh? And where is dear Remington Steele today? I was half expecting to see him standing there, scowling at me when I picked you up.”
“He said he’d do some cleaning and make lunch.”
“Mm-hmm. I bet.” I went to my back while Mac knelt between my legs. “We both know he bailed because of me. Come on, hands on your stomach.” Once my hands were in place, Mac lifted one of my legs, bent it at the knee, and pushed it toward my chest. “Which I can’t for the life of me understand, by the way. The guy has no good reason to hate me. Me, on the other hand…”
“I don’t understand why you two can’t get along.”
His head lolled to the side without a trace of amusement. “Really, Maxim? You can’t think of one reason why I might not want to see his stupid, rich-boy face?”
I snorted a laugh. “What does that even mean?”
Mac switched legs and strummed his fingers absently on my raised thigh while he spoke. “You know what I mean. He’s got that pretty-boy-rich-guy face that you just want to punch. And he’s a selfish dick, so there’s that too.”
“Remy isn’t selfish. And he’s not some entitled brat, either.”
“Here we go. You’re always defending him. Did he tell you why he left?” Mac asked as he released my leg and switched back to the other.
I couldn’t answer that. My throat felt like it was closing in on itself, and I could barely breathe, let alone speak.
“Yeah, I didn’t think so. Come sit up for a minute.” Mac reached a hand out for me, which I took, letting myself be pulled up. He handed me a water bottle and waited for me to finish drinking before he spoke again. “I know he’s important to you. I don’t mean to be such a jerk and make you feel bad. But, Max, you have to understand where I’m coming from. It isn’t a place of judgment or malice. I just care about you too much to see him break you again.”
There was no use denying it. Remy had broken me, more than I’d ever admitted.
“Be careful with him,” Macalister added gently. “Don’t rush in blind and get swept up in having him around again.”
Does he know? He can’t know. My heart hammered in my chest, loud enough that I was sure Macalister could hear it over the music and idle chatter in the gym. He couldn’t know. I haven’t said anyth—“Relax. Don’t bother trying to deny it. You have Remy-sized bite marks on your thighs.”
My eyes went wide, and I didn’t even try to resist looking. There they were, just above the hem of my shorts. Two bite marks on my left inner thigh, and one on the right that was already bruising. My face flamed, and my attention darted around the room to all of the people in our vicinity.
A warm hand closed around the back of my neck, and my focus narrowed enough to see Mac smiling sympathetically at me. “It’s all right. No one can see them. I only saw when I was stretching your hamstrings. Your shorts more than cover them, so unless you’re planning on spreading for everyone in here, no one else is going to know.” He grinned at me, easing my rising panic and making me snort.
I shoved him back and shook my head, trying not to smile while he laughed. Once he regained a semblance of calm, he motioned for me to get on my back again. Halfway down, I rested on my left elbow, and looked him in the eye. “Thank you—for distracting me.”
“Anytime, Maxy.”
I cringed, falling to my back with a thud. “You promised not to call me that.”
“Did I? Must have slipped my mind. How about this,” Mac started as he pushed a leg back and held it. “Tell me what you horny teenagers have been up to, and I’ll stop calling you Maxy.” The smug smirk on his face had me wanting to strangle him, but that didn’t change the fact that the bastard got me.
I huffed and turned away from him.
“Yeah, that’s what I thought, Maxy.”
Macalister dropped me off at home a few hours later. He’d insisted on carrying my bags up for me, despite my insistence that I could handle it. When Remy opened the door and Macalister stuck his tongue out at him, it was clear why he really wanted to carry my stuff. I squeezed past Remy, who was also making faces at my ridiculous friend, and took the turquoise box in my hand to the yummy-smelling kitchen. After some heated whisper-shouting, the door slammed and Remy stormed into the kitchen with my gym bag and the store bag from Macy’s.
“I hate that prick,” he muttered, dropping the bags by the entryway before joining me by the counter.
I bit back a smile and pushed the box toward him. “I have something for you.” He eyed the box suspiciously then flicked his gaze back to me. “It’s not going to bite.”
More mutterings about Macalister flew out of his mouth as he turned the box toward himself and lifted the lid. Inside the box was an assortment of gourmet donuts and cupcakes from Bryan’s bakery. The stunned silence and sharp inhale told me I’d chosen the right thing; Remy still had a weakness for sweets.
“Oh my fucking God. These look amazing. Where did you find these?”
“Bryan. I don’t know if you had a chance to meet him at the hospital, but he owns a bakery. They taste even better than they look.” I pointed at the one simply glazed donut out of the dozen. “Those are my favorite.”
He snorted and patted me on the chest. “Of course you like that one best. Thank you. I shoulda led with that, but thanks.”
“I-I have something else for you as well.” I stepped around him and grabbed the large white Macy’s bag. I caught the reluctance in Remy’s eyes and the slight shake of his head. “Please just accept these, and don’t argue,” I said as I handed him the bag.
He took the bag and
crouched down to open it, first pulling out a black winter jacket and gloves. “You’re too considerate for your own good, Maxim. You didn’t have to buy me a jacket.”
“It’s cold out, and it’s only going to get worse. You’re not in California anymore, and you need a coat. And you said you wouldn’t argue.”
“I did not say that, but thank you.” He peeked inside the bag, and a smile spread across his face. He scratched at his stubble and lifted the lid on the shoe box. “You got me some fucking Docs. Dammit—thank you.”
He stood and flung his arms around my neck while mine went to his waist. “Thank you for taking such great care of me. I’m just returning the favor.” I pressed my lips to his temple and hummed at the smell of my shampoo in his silky hair. “If either the coat or the boots aren’t your style, we can exchange them.”
“Nonsense. They’re perfect. I used to have a pair of Docs just like those before—” His mouth snapped shut, and he shook his head. “Never mind.” He dropped his arms and stepped back. “Ah, so are you hungry? I made roast chicken and veggies. It’s not fancy, but I found a recipe for gravy, and that turned out pretty good.”
Not wanting to start a fight, I let Remy’s deflection slide and rubbed my stomach. “I’m starving. I only had a protein shake earlier.”
“Go sit down, and I’ll grab you some food.”
Oh, right! “That reminds me. Thanksgiving is on Thursday. If you didn’t have any plans with your family, Macalister invited us to join his family for dinner. If you want.” Suddenly the laminate flooring was the most visually engaging feature in my apartment.
“Mac invited us, or he invited you?” he asked with his voice dripping with skepticism.
“He said you could come.” Begrudgingly.
“If it’s all right with you, I think I’ll stay here. My presence would only cause drama.”
I shook my head once before remembering that he couldn’t read my mind—even if it sometimes seemed like he could. “Dubhlainn wouldn’t let that happen. He has Macalister wrapped around his finger.”
“Like a dog.”
“Like a man in love,” I corrected with the hint of a smile tugging at my lips. “We don’t have to go. I told him I’d ask.”
“You can still go. I don’t want you to miss seeing your friends just to keep me company,” Remy said, pulling two plates from the cupboard.
I crossed my arms and waited for Remy to face me while I searched for the right words. “Mac is like a brother to me, Rem. He’s been there for me over the years when I needed him.” Remy winced at that, but I wasn’t finished. “Any animosity he has toward you stems from how protective he is of me. He’s important to me, but so are you. I want to spend Thanksgiving with you, whether we’re here eating takeout or at Mr. and Mrs. Buchanan’s house, eating the most delicious meal I’ve ever had.”
“I could really go for some deep-dish pizza for the takeout. Especially after all this healthy shit you insist on,” he teased. He had both plates full and handed me the one with nearly twice as much on it.
“Thank you. So, I guess you’re not considering seeing your family? What about Rosalind?”
He shook his head dismissively then headed for the living room. “I’m not ready to see my folks. And Roz doesn’t know I’m in the city.”
I followed and sat beside him. “You should call her. She was pretty sad and angry when you left, but it was only because she missed you.”
He sighed heavily, his shoulders slumping, and he dropped his fork on his plate before turning to me. “If I tell you I’ll text Roz tomorrow, can we table further discussion about my family today? They’re not what I want to think about right now.” He slid a hand over my thigh, across the front of my pants, and squeezed. I swallowed hard and nodded. “Good boy.”
Remy withdrew his hand and turned on the TV for more reruns before we dug into our late lunch. The easiness between us returned as we finished eating and snuggled close to watch more Supernatural. Not wanting to ruin the moment, I decided I’d tell him that Mac knew about us another day.
Nine
Remy
The café smelled strongly of coffee and bacon and was nearly filled to capacity. I’d managed to snag a table for two in the back, and I sat with my back to the entrance. My nervous foot tapping was louder than usual, and I glanced down to see the new boots Maxim had picked up for me. I could have been at home with him, curled up in bed, sweaty and naked. Instead I was a jittery mess in desperate need of a smoke, waiting for my sister to meet me.
But that isn’t really your home.
I scoffed under my breath. There was no way I could ever forget that little fact. Liars and cheaters like me didn’t deserve to have that kind of home, no matter how much I wished things could be different. If I could be Marty McFly for a day and fix my wrongdoings, how different might my life be?
Life didn’t work that way, though. Thinking about it was nothing more than self-flagellation without the kinky benefits. I washed the thoughts away with a swallow of my bitter black coffee, then pulled out my phone to occupy my restless hands.
My thumb hovered over the Instagram icon for a few beats before I swept past it and tapped on Reddit. I’d deactivated my Instagram account after my life imploded, but the habit of checking it was hard to shake. It was a reality that I needed to come to terms with, though. That wasn’t my life anymore—really, it never was. It was something I did, but not who I was. In that regard, I was just as lost as I was at sixteen.
“Remy?” a familiar voice asked from behind me, startling me.
I turned around and was met with bright blue eyes the same shade as my own. “Hey, Roz.” An awkward couple of seconds passed between us before I dropped my phone on the table and stood to give her a hug. Thankfully she returned it.
“I was shocked when you texted,” she said, dropping her arms from my back and taking a seat across from me. “You back here for good?”
“No. I don’t think so.” God, I could go for a smoke.
“You kinda look like shit.”
“That’s what you have to say to me after four years?”
She shrugged. “You looked like shit four years ago in LA too. Note that you’ve upgraded to ‘kinda look like shit’ now.”
I huffed a short laugh. “I’m not feeling the love here.”
Roz cut her eyes at me, daring me to continue down that road.
“Okay, point taken,” I replied quietly.
She sat back in her chair and hiked her left ankle up to rest on her right knee. With one arm hooked over the back of the chair, she looked completely carefree—exactly how I remembered her. She was just as short as she was the day I’d left Chicago when she was seventeen—all of five foot nothing. Small, but fierce.
“I didn’t come here to make you feel like an asshole, but if you say stupid shit, I’m going to reply in turn.”
“Okay, no more awkward bullshit.”
She nodded at that with a pleased grin.
“I’m been a shitty brother, and I’m sorry for that.”
“You’re forgiven.” Roz snorted softly at my wide eyes and fiddled at the large silver rings on her fingers with her thumb. “It’s fine, Remy. We’re both adults with our own lives, and I never blamed you for wanting to get out from Mom and Dad. It was pretty trash that you seldom answered my texts, but life goes on. We don’t have to dwell on that. I’d much rather know what you’re doing here now?”
“A couple of things. I got tired of—”
“Before you say whatever you’re going to say, do know that I used to follow you on Instagram,” she said with a lowered voice.
Fuck. “LA was a fuckin’ disaster. I’ve been staying in Palm Springs with a friend.” I rapped my knuckles on the table and chewed my bottom lip. “I’m back here because of Maxim.”
Her thick, dark brows that belied her bleached hair color rose in surprise. “What’s going on with Maxim? Anytime we’ve talked, you made it seem like you two weren’t in contact
any longer.”
“He—”
Her phone rang, and she quickly tapped the screen to answer it. “Sorry, one sec,” she mouthed. Her eye roll came seconds later, followed by her tapping “End Call” and setting her phone facedown on the table. “I’m really sorry about that. It’s rude as shit, but I’m on call and have to answer.”
“So, you’re an actual doctor now?”
“I’m still a resident, but yes. I moved back here for the last year of my residency.”
I puffed my cheeks and blew out a deep breath. “Crazy.”
“Not as crazy as you being back here—get back to what you were saying about Maxim.”
I should have known better than to try to distract Roz. She was always the smarter of the two of us, even from a young age. Her edgy look may resemble mine, but she wasn’t a colossal fuckup.
“Max was in a work-related accident. He’s okay,” I added quickly, before she could panic. “His shoulder got hurt, so he’s off until he’s all healed up.”
“Jesus fuck. When did this happen?”
I relayed the events of the accident, and how Maxim had been doing since then—leaving out the, uh, racy bits—until she was sufficiently up to speed. A server had come around with a coffee pot and filled the mugs on the table around when I was explaining Maxim’s recovery timeline.
“Poor Maxy. Can you let him know I’d like to see him? We fell out of touch some years ago.”
“I think he’d like that. It was actually his idea that I text you.”
She lifted a brow and hummed. “Oh, really?”
“I was going to anyway… eventually.” I raked a hand through my hair and groaned. “This shit is fucking hard, okay?”
Somebody to Love (Crazy Little Thing Book 3) Page 7