by A. D. Ellis
Khi nodded as he took another drink. “But at Logan’s party, you were all decked out. So, you like to look amazing when the situation calls for it.”
I nearly choked on the swallow of beer. Khi thought I looked amazing? Alert the presses. “Yeah, I love any reason to dress up and I live for outfitting others.”
“So, what’s your goal with your fashions?” Khi seemed truly interested, but I could tell making small-talk wasn’t his favorite.
“Get my designs picked up and sold. I’d love to have my creations in chic boutiques as well as more practically priced locations. My dream is that guys from the ones pinching pennies all the way up to the millionaires will want to wear a Dre King design and be able to make that happen.”
“Guys?” Khi cocked his head. “I guess I thought you designed dresses and shit.”
I smiled. “I did, in the past. But I really found my passion in male fashion—although, a lot of my creations are fairly gender neutral and I have a lot of very femme designs.”
Khi’s light blue-gray eyes clouded a bit at the mention of the past and I sagged as I watched him shut down. The conversation had been nice while it lasted and it spurred me to make it keep happening, even if pushing Khi pissed him off.
Our food arrived, delivered by the owner, Bode and his husband, Sage. They said a brief hello and thanked us for coming before heading back to the busy bar and letting us get to our meal.
The rest of our evening was taken up with two presentations. The first was on first responder self-care and the second was focused on mental health and breaking the stigma. Both were good and I felt there were things from each that we could share with our station.
Khi was almost grumpier than I’d ever seen him by the time we got back to our room.
“You want to shower first?” I offered. “You seem really tense, maybe a hot shower would help you relax?”
He bristled. “Just because you just learned about self-care doesn’t mean you need to go spouting off to me about it. I’m fine, just not thrilled with the whole bed situation.”
I smirked. “Why? Afraid you won’t be able to keep your hands off me?” I teased, thinking I could ease the tension a bit.
Khi snorted. “Yeah, right. I learned my lesson ten years ago,” he mumbled as he grabbed his sleep clothes.
“We ever gonna talk about that so I can apologize?” I jumped at the opening.
“Nope. You apologized way back then. It’s water long, long washed under the bridge.” Khi shut the bathroom door with a little more force than was necessary.
Later, after I’d done my best not to drool over him in just his boxers after his shower—we both slept in just underwear at home, but usually quickly pulled on pants and maybe a shirt since we had so many housemates—I took my shower. Thinking maybe we’d look over the schedule and make a plan as to what we wanted to attend on Saturday, I was dismayed to walk out of the bathroom and find Khi glued to his side of the bed, snoring softly as usual.
It wasn’t like I thought we’d cuddle or whisper sweet-nothings, but his position was a definite visual representation of the chasm between us. I hated my part in it and wanted more than anything just the chance to bridge the gap and make Khi listen.
He was right, I’d apologized several years after the day he left Bellville. But it somehow still didn’t feel right; things between us were still unresolved. I needed Khi to know that I wasn’t expecting us to blossom into lifelong friends, but my heart still needed to fix things.
Climbing into bed, I curled up on my side and wished for sleep to come.
By the time Khi’s damn alarm woke me, I felt as if I hadn’t slept a wink. It was like my subconscious knew I was in bed with a stabby, grumpy bear and, if I got too close, I’d be in danger. Every single time I fell asleep and even thought about rolling or shifting, I awoke with a start, fearful of entering enemy territory.
“Get up, we’re going for a run,” Khi ordered.
“Good fucking morning to you as well, sunshine,” I grumbled into my pillow. “I don’t like to run.”
“We need a pic. We’re gonna run and hit the pads. Then we’ll go our separate ways and gather as much information to take back to the station as possible.” Khi was already dressed and stretching.
My sleepy brain was trying to comprehend and it was way too early. “One, I can’t keep up with you running. Two, we’re not going to the same sessions? Three, can I please have coffee first?”
Khi snorted. “I’ll keep it slow and easy. No, it’s best if we split so we can attend the most sessions and get the most information. And you can have coffee with breakfast after our workout. Get. Up.”
Khi allowed me five minutes to brush my teeth, wash my face, and take a piss before I pulled on something suitable for running on a cold morning. We reached the sidewalk and Khi glanced at his phone.
“We’ll just keep it slow, enough to pump some blood and get the oxygen flowing.” He stretched a bit more and glared at me until I did the same.
“It’s freezing out here,” I grumbled.
“More reason to get moving and warm up,” Khi retorted and took off at a slow pace.
I wasn’t a workout junkie. I loved walking and I ate mostly healthy, but I didn’t get off on the muscle burn and adrenaline high of working out. Give me an exciting call-out or amazing design concept come to life on paper and I’d ride that high to the absolute last wisp. But pumping iron and hardcore cardio just wasn’t my thing.
Which was why I could only sulk as Khi kept to his promise of keeping it to a slow jog. Not that I wasn’t already feeling the effects, but I wasn’t in pain or anything like I would have been if Khi had insisted on a full-out run. Still, I didn’t really want to keep at it. “We’ve gone two blocks; can we snap the pic and head back?” I wasn’t exactly sucking air, but my words were definitely breathless.
“No, this is good for our bodies. We’ll go up one more, turn, and then head back. Make a rectangle around the hotel.” Khi wasn’t breathing hard in the least bit.
“It’s cold.”
“Run faster,” was all Khi had to say.
I grunted. “Kinda hate you right now.”
“That’s our thing, it’s what we do. No worries.” Khi flashed me a wink and I nearly tripped over my own two feet.
Danger, danger!
Khi was hot and I’d been drawn to him since the first time I ever laid eyes on him. Our past and his refusal to clear the air had always been enough to keep me at arm’s length. Kinda a look but don’t touch or get attached type thing.
Winky Khi? Conversation Khi? In-bed-next-to-me Khi?
That was a different monster indeed.
With the rising sun beginning to paint the downtown buildings with golden pinks, we snapped a picture for the challenge. Our plan was to continue posting on social media to get those points slowly and surely, but we hadn’t yet earned any points for putting our pics on the bulletin board. We agreed that we could probably take a sizeable lead once we printed all of our pictures and hung them up. Right now, we were assuming that the rest of the crew wasn’t suspecting us of much since we’d only posted a few and hadn’t added to the board. Let them think we were slacking. We’d come out of nowhere and shock them all.
It was actually kinda fun because most of the crew knew there was no love lost between Khi and me, so they weren’t expecting us to do much with a team challenge. We were using that to our advantage.
“Oh my God, that was terrible,” I grumbled, pulling off my hood as we entered the hotel lobby.
“You didn’t die. Come on, we’re gonna hit,” Khi said as he veered away from my intended destination of the elevators.
“Hit? Hit what?” I wrinkled my nose. “I smell coffee. Can we please just get coffee?”
“After. I need someone to hold pads for me.”
The gym area was state-of-the-art and deserted. I ventured a guess that most of the attendees were either doing their run outdoors, had already taken advantage of the
space and left to get ready for their day, or were smart and still asleep.
“Let’s get this over with. I want a shower, food, and coffee. No, I want coffee, a shower, food, and coffee.”
“Stop bitching. You’ll get your damn coffee. I don’t know why you think you have to have coffee all the time, it’s not that amazing.” Khi took advantage of the tape and wraps provided by the hotel—again, nice amenities; I wondered how many people actually came in here to hit—and got his hands all wrapped.
“You’ve never had my coffee. I make you some every damn morning before shift and every damn morning you refuse it. Once you give in and accept my offering, you’ll understand why I want it flowing through my veins at all times.” I took the pads Khi handed to me. “What exactly am I supposed to do with these?”
“You’re going to hold them up and I’m going to punch them. We’ll move around a bit. Just keep them in front of you and you won’t get hit.”
“This sounds dangerous and completely unfun. I definitely should have been provided coffee before this.” I put the pads in front of me. “Is there a waiver to sign?” I yelped as Khi landed a punch to the foam I wielded like a shield.
“It’s best if you just shut up, let me hit, and we’ll be done.” Khi was bouncing on the balls of his feet, moving from side-to-side, and throwing quick jabs. He soon fell into a rhythm and I found myself mesmerized by his every move.
Too involved in fantasizing about Khi, I lost focus and one of his hits shoved the foam into my chin, waking me up. He barely noticed. I grinned as a thought filled my head. Khi was in a zone. I wondered if I could do a bit of talking and he’d listen.
With a mental shrug, I decided it wouldn’t hurt to try. He’d either listen, completely ignore me, or get angry and quit. Which actually wouldn’t be such a bad thing because I’d get coffee even sooner.
“Sooo, since you’re kinda a captive audience,” I hedged.
Khi grunted and punched harder. “No talking.”
“Nah, if I’m taking punches, I think I get to call the shots.” I held the pads firmer and pushed a little against his hits. “I’m sorry about that day.”
Hit. Khi was breathing hard and his jabs were stronger, his rhythm steady.
“I’d wanted to kiss you since the first day I met you, but figured there was no way you’d ever want the same.”
Hit. Khi’s nostrils flared and I caught a glint of anger in his light eyes from my hiding place behind the foam.
“I was a terrible person back then. I absolutely hate the way I acted. Pretending to be against all things gay was meant to protect myself, but I know I ended up hurting others.”
Hit. Khi continued to pummel the pads.
“There’s no way to change it, but from the day you left and every day since, I’ve worked hard at accepting and loving myself and being good to those around me. I never want to be that nasty kid again.”
Hit. Khi’s glare and the strength behind his punches told me he would rather I dropped the pads and let him land a few on me.
“That kiss was like my biggest fear and wildest dream all coming true at once. When my parents walked around the corner, the dream was ripped away and all my deepest fears attacked.”
Hit. That one nearly knocked me on my ass.
“I never should have reacted the way I did. I made you out to be the bad guy, brought my parents’ wrath down on you in order to tuck myself safely back into my closet and I’m so damn sorry.”
With a growl, Khi closed the distance between us, his arms knocking away the pads before pressing against my chest and backing me into the corner. His hot mouth was on mine before my back even hit the wall. The kiss was hard and fiery, anger and frustration pouring from him as his tongue staked its claim in my mouth.
Helpless to do anything but ride the unexpected wave—consequences be damned—I returned the kiss. Teeth clashed, tongues battled for dominance, and lips slid together in a hot mix of angry lust. Khi’s hips pressed close, his hard cock rubbed mine, evidence that the kiss was affecting him the same as me, and I couldn’t help the moan from deep within.
Whether it was the noise I made, the heat blazing between us, or the sound of laughter in the hallway outside of the gym area, something in Khi clicked and he pushed away from me as if I’d electrocuted him.
“Khi,” I started, my hand coming to touch my lips, as if I needed to prove to myself his mouth had truly just been on mine.
“No,” he bit out. “I told you to keep your mouth shut and you didn’t, so I shut you up.” He was breathing hard, from the workout or the kiss or both, I didn’t know. “That was a mistake. One I swore to myself I’d never make again. You’ve said what you wanted to say, don’t bring it up again. That’s in the past. We’re not those people anymore.” Khi’s jaw clenched. “I’m going to shower. I’ll leave a list of the presentations I’m going to.” He turned his back to me and quickly unwrapped his hands, tossing the cloth into the linen basket before stalking out.
Stunned by the turn of events, I bent to pick up the pads and return them to the hook on the wall. In a daze, I walked toward the elevator as I replayed the kiss over and over in my head. This kiss had been nothing like the hidden, tentative one I’d dared to give Khi all those years ago.
This kiss had been fire—fueled by anger and hate, my bruised lips could attest to that. But there had been an undercurrent of something else.
Don’t go reading something into a kiss. He was pissed and he kissed you to shut you up. That’s all.
Part of me knew that was likely exactly what had happened. All that happened.
The other part of me? The romantic side, the guy who—even though he hated to admit it—was still completely hung up on Khi? Well, that part of me wanted to savor and analyze the brief glimpses of whatever else had been present in that kiss. Sure, there’d been a whole lot of lust mixed with the anger, but there’d been more. A pinch of longing, a dash of regret, a smidge of hope, and a sprinkle of something I couldn’t quite put my finger on.
Don’t be a fool. Your little recipe of emotions isn’t going to make anything other than a big ol’ mess.
As I entered our room, I studied the closed bathroom door. I could still taste Khi on my lips and I yearned for more. However, I expected Khi to shut down even more now. I’d be lucky to get a single word from him for the rest of the weekend. No way he’d be willing to continue the conversation or take that kiss further; I’d watched his guard come up the second he broke from my lips.
I moved to the desk chair and sagged into it. What was my next move? Let it go? Pretend I didn’t sense more in that kiss? Go on indefinitely with Khi hating me and the awkward tension growing thick?
I shook my head. No. I’d made up my mind to wear him down before he went and stuck his tongue down my throat. I wasn’t going to stop. And if that meant he needed to take his anger out on my mouth until he’d worked through it, then so be it.
Eight
Khi
Fuck.
What in the ever-loving fuck had I done?
Kissing Dre had been a mistake ten years ago and it was an even bigger mistake now. The way he’d tentatively kissed me all those years ago—proving to me I was right that he’d been interested and awakening a tiny flutter of stupid hope in my gut—had been nothing like the kiss we’d just shared.
Back then, he’d been shy and hesitant. I figured I was his first kiss. But there’d been something sweet and innocent about the way his lips brushed over mine—something that made me think, even if just for one ridiculous moment, that maybe Dre and I could have something. Until his parents rounded the corner and he jumped away from me as if I’d zapped him with a cattle prod.
Without so much as a blink between kissing me and facing his parents, Dre had thrown me under the bus. Told his parents I’d been coming on to him, harassing him, and seducing him. Mr. and Mrs. King had ripped me a new one and damned me to hell and back multiple times. For a few moments, I’d stood there until I fina
lly broke from my trance, realized I didn’t have to take this shit, and walked away.
Dre hadn’t hurt me that day, he’d pissed me off. And that anger had fueled me, made me think I’d never be so mad at a person again. My naivete way back then was astounding because I’d obviously gone on to hate Blaine with the power of a thousand suns after all he’d put me through.
And, until my current situation, I’d truly believed I’d never be that pissed off at someone again. But there I was, so pissed off at myself I’d nearly broken a molar with how hard I was gritting my teeth.
What in the fuck had I been thinking? When Dre had kept yappin’ his mouth, I should have gathered my anger and walked away. But no, my stupid ass decided to shut him up by kissing him.
The worst part of the whole situation was how damn hot the kiss had been.
Even after I showered, scribbled a note with the presentations I’d be attending, and left the room—all while ignoring Dre—I could still taste him on my lips.
Throughout the entire day of sitting through slide shows and discussions and demonstrations, I nearly vibrated off my seat. Anger, frustration, and tension flowed through me, but it was more than that. I couldn’t push away that kiss and how Dre had responded to my mouth on his.
I’d always thought sexual tension was something that happened to other people. Before the drinking and everything else spiraled out of control, Blaine and I had a satisfying sex life—as long as I didn’t ask to bottom—but the tight coil of heat twisting in my belly at the thought of more with Dre was something I’d never experienced.
From high school until present day, I’d enjoyed a variety of sexual encounters and not one—not a single one of them—had ever turned me inside out like one angry kiss with Dre.
And I still had to share a bed with him for one more night.
Fuck.
If Julia wasn’t expecting us to bring back as much information as possible to share with the crew—along with whatever samples and freebies we could grab on the exhibit hall floor—I’d tell Dre to pack his bags and we’d head back to Remington as soon as the last presentation concluded.