Ice on Fire (Treble and the Lost Boys Book 1)

by G. R. Lyons

  Adrian frowned, then shook his head.

  “Alright, then…” Zac trailed off, waiting for an answer. When Adrian kept packing his things and not saying anything, Zac let out a sigh. “Did I do something wrong?”

  Adrian paused in the midst of zipping up his bag, staring down at it, still not so much as glancing in Zac's direction, let alone meeting his eyes. He mumbled something.

  “What?” Zac asked, leaning closer.

  “Your friends…”

  “Oh.” Zac laughed. “I'm sorry about them. They're assholes, but…”

  Adrian shot him a scowl, then quickly looked away.

  Zac sighed. “Look,” he said, then leaned closer, glancing around quickly. They were the only ones in the classroom, so he moved closer still. “I'm not out,” he whispered.

  Adrian's scowl faded, and he turned to look right at Zac, studying his eyes for a moment before looking away again. “Oh.” He paused, then gave a nod. “Neither am I,” he whispered back.

  Zac snorted. “My friends sure seem to think you are.”

  “I'm not,” Adrian insisted, his jaw tight.

  “Hey,” Zac said, holding up his hands. “It's alright. I get it. I can't be out, you know? It's…I've got too much to lose.”

  Adrian breathed a humorless laugh. “Yeah.”

  “You, too?”

  Adrian nodded.

  “So?” Zac asked. “My place or yours?”

  His hand drifted toward Adrian's thigh, and the moment his fingertips brushed wool, Adrian jerked away as though burned.

  Zac snatched his hand back. “Sorry. I just–”

  Adrian shook his head. “I have to go.”

  “Ade, wait,” Zac called before Adrian was halfway across the room. Adrian stopped, his shoulders tense, but didn't turn to face Zac. “We can't just ignore this project.”

  Adrian hesitated, then sighed and turned back, stopping at the end of the table, just beyond Zac's reach. “Your place,” he mumbled.

  Zac grinned. Getting Adrian alone in his apartment? Hells yes.

  He whipped out his phone. “What's your number?” Zac asked. “I'll text you the address.”

  Adrian rattled off the number, and Zac typed it in, immediately sending Adrian a text. In the silence of the room, he could just make out a buzzing sound coming from Adrian's bag.

  “There,” Zac said, putting his phone away. “So, when are you free?”

  They worked out a day and time to meet, then Adrian rushed off, vanishing from the room. Zac shook his head as he stood and grabbed his own bag, stepping out into the empty hallway, not a sign of Adrian anywhere.

  Oh well. At least he'd get the man pinned down tomorrow afternoon. In person. Alone.

  And if he was very lucky, maybe he could get Adrian to pin him down.

  * * *

  ADRIAN ENTERED his apartment and let his bag fall to the floor.

  Zac was gay. His beautiful violinist was actually gay.

  A moan escaped his throat, and Adrian slapped a hand over his mouth, looking around frantically as he panted through his nose. It took a few moments for the silence of the apartment to sink in before he let down his guard.

  There's no one here, he told himself, taking a deep breath. You're safe.

  Looking around once more to make sure his father really wasn't there—though, of course, he shouldn't be, considering it was the middle of a workday—Adrian picked up his bag and carried it over to his desk. He'd have to put all thoughts of Zac aside and focus on his work.

  He was halfway through his first assignment when the memory of Zac's voice cut through his thoughts.

  Your place or mine?

  One of those questions Adrian often came across in movies or books, thinking it would never apply to his life in any way. Granted, in context, Zac's question had been purely innocent. It was for a school project, for gods' sakes. Still, the man had thrown enough suggestive tone into the words that the innuendo was clear.

  Or was it? Was Adrian just wishing for something that wasn't really there?

  But, gods, how he wanted it to be.

  Your place or mine?

  And Adrian would be going to Zac's place. Tomorrow. Adrian's whole body shuddered. He'd be alone with Zac, in Zac's apartment. No crowds. No parents. No strangers. Just the two of them, surrounded by four walls and a locked door.

  The prospect was both thrilling and terrifying.

  All alone. Lock the door. Maybe pin Zac up against it with his arms trapped behind his back, Adrian holding both slender wrists in one hand while he used the other to whip off his belt and bind Zac's hands.

  Adrian's hands dropped to the button on his pants, his cock hard and begging to be let out.

  Then his phone rang.

  Adrian groaned, clenching his jaw. He sucked in a breath, dug out his phone, and answered.

  “Yes, sir?”

  “Mmmm, that's hot, but I'd rather call you sir.”

  Adrian blinked. That was definitely not his father's voice, but his father was the only person who ever called. He pulled the phone away from his ear to check the screen.

  The call was from an unknown number.

  “Who is this?” he asked.

  “Zac. You did get my text, right? So that you'd have my number?”

  Adrian frowned. “Hang on.” He pulled the phone away again, and sure enough, there was the notification for the text Zac had sent him after class. If you only knew how long I've been wanting your number, the text read. Adrian blushed, quickly saved the contact information, the call display changing to reflect the new entry, then put the phone back to his ear. “Yeah, sorry. Got it now.”

  “Mmmm, good,” Zac purred, then changed to a serious tone. “Hey, listen, just wondering what you like to eat, you know, in case we run into dinnertime tomorrow.”

  “Oh. Um…” Adrian rubbed a hand on his thigh, idly fingering the scars he couldn't see. “Will it take that long?”

  “Hmmm, don't know, but…we could have dinner anyway, like…” Zac trailed off, a hopeful tone in his voice.

  Adrian swallowed hard. “Like…” he whispered.

  “You know…a date?” Zac asked, the word almost coming out as a squeak, then rushed on: “Or just dinner. You know, whatever. I was just thinking, since neither of us is out, so we couldn't really go out, and–”

  “Yeah,” Adrian blurted, chills running through him as he realized what he'd said. “Or, no. I mean–”

  “Alright, no date,” Zac said, his voice oddly soothing. “Just…I'll have some food here anyway, yeah? In case we get hungry while we're working.”

  “Um…yeah. Fine. Alright.”

  “Alright, good.” Zac paused. “So I'll see you tomorrow?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Good,” Zac murmured. He breathed a laugh, then said, “Can't wait to finally have you all to myself.”

  Before Adrian could say anything, he heard a click, followed by silence. He pulled the phone away and stared at it. Zac had thrown that out and then ended the call.

  Damn him.

  Adrian set the phone aside, his hand going straight back to his crotch, his cock even harder now.

  He managed to get the button undone and the zipper down when his phone rang again.

  He snatched it up eagerly, then felt his blood run cold when his father's number showed up on the screen. Adrian quickly fastened his pants and answered the call.

  “Yes, sir?”

  Sebastian Frost sighed. “You're not having an episode, I hope.”

  “What? No. Why?” Adrian asked, then cringed. He almost never asked his father why.

  “You sound winded.”

  “Oh.” Adrian pulled the phone away, took a deep breath, and let it out slowly. “No, no episode,” he said, feeling the first hints of one coming on anyway now that he was stuck on the phone with his father. “Just…stubbed my toe on the desk.”

  Sebastian Frost made a dismissive noise and instantly changed the subject. “I'd like you to come
to a dinner meeting tonight.”

  Adrian just stopped himself from biting off a complaint. Thanks for the warning. He checked the clock. “What time?”

  “In an hour, at Ronello's.”

  Adrian blinked. Ronello's was the place his father took special clients.

  “Miss Dawsen will be there, so I expect you to be on your best behavior.”

  Adrian almost groaned. So that's what this was about. Setting him up with the woman.

  “I'd like you to entertain her while I speak business with her father and another client of mine.”

  Of course his father would like that. Adrian clenched his free hand into a fist in his lap. “Alright,” he agreed even though he didn't really have a choice, all the while knowing he was going to hate the evening. He ran to the washroom to grab his pills.

  “Can I expect you to be on time?”

  “Yes, sir,” Adrian managed to answer, struggling to pry the cap off the pill bottle.

  “Good. See you in an hour.”

  His father rang off, leaving Adrian free to drop his phone and dig out a pill. He forced it down dry, shaking too much to handle a cup of water, then sighed heavily as he felt the effects slowly set in.

  You can do this. He took a quick shower, brushed his teeth, and got dressed. It wasn't black tie, thank gods, but he still had to look nice. He picked a suit at random from the closet-full that his father had purchased, all of them precisely tailored. Choosing a shirt and tie took a little more effort, but once he was done, he hoped his father would be satisfied. Chances were, no matter how well put together Adrian was, Sebastian Frost would find some fault or another.

  He was ready just in time for the announcement that a car had arrived. Adrian glanced at his homework, lying there unfinished, and forced himself to walk out the door. He could finish the next day. It was why he'd scheduled his classes the way he had, after all. Nothing to worry about. He had plenty of time.

  And then he'd get to see Zac. He almost smiled at the thought. Maybe it would be enough to carry him through the evening.

  The driver, Rob, was there with his father's spare luxury sedan. At least it wasn't the limo this time. Adrian got in, then sat back and took slow, deep breaths, thinking of Zac the whole way to the restaurant.

  He arrived just after his father. The two men shook hands and were seated together at a table for six. Adrian inwardly cringed. Stuck at dinner with his father and four strangers, and in a full restaurant, no less. Lovely.

  They put in their drink orders, then sat in silence, waiting for their guests to arrive. For once, Adrian wished they'd hurry up and get there. Then the night would be over sooner.

  Finally, Mr. Dawsen and his daughter arrived, followed shortly by another man and a woman who appeared to be his wife. Adrian did as was expected of him, standing to shake the men's hands, greeting the women, and helping Miss Dawsen into her chair before resuming his own.

  The man introduced as Silas Arden glanced across the table at Adrian, squinting at him with some of the most startlingly green eyes Adrian had ever seen. “So you're the lad I've heard so much about.”

  Adrian just stopped himself from frowning, and tilted his head in question. “Sir?”

  Mr. Arden chuckled. “Your father tells me you're about to graduate with a degree in finance. Groomed to take over the family business, eh?”

  He said it in such a way that it almost sounded like a private joke, one which only the older men at the table understood, the three of them laughing.

  “Adrian still has much to learn,” his father said before Adrian could come up with a response, “but I'm sure he'll do his duty and make me proud.”

  Adrian grimaced, hoping it passed as a smile. Beside him, Miss Dawsen gave him an encouraging, flirtatious look, so Adrian turned away, busying himself with sipping at his drink.

  “It's a shame your brother couldn't join us,” Mr. Frost went on, speaking to Mr. Arden, thankfully taking the conversation off Adrian. “He owns Cliffside Hotel and Casino,” he informed the rest of the table, then rubbed his thumb against his forefinger. “Very wealthy.”

  Adrian knew of the casino. It wasn't far from his own apartment building, both constructed down the cliff face that made up the northern coastline of Morbran City. Like Frost Estates, the above-ground part of the casino looked like any other structure in the city, the quaint, Old World charm of the building's façade entirely hiding what lay within. From the outside, you'd never know that the cliff-top structure contained noisy slot machines and gaming tables, nor that the hotel rooms went all the way down the cliff face to the water.

  Mr. Arden scoffed. “You'd have better luck getting my lovely wife here to stop buying shoes.”

  Mrs. Arden blushed, and the rest of them chuckled.

  “No,” Mr. Arden went on as the laughter died down. “I don't imagine you could get Gregor and I into the same room together any time soon.”

  “Really?” Mr. Dawsen asked, lifting his drink.

  “The man hasn't spoken to me since my son disappeared,” Mr. Arden went on.

  Adrian looked at the man, noting the careless expression on his face. Mrs. Arden's expression was tight, but she didn't say anything, quickly recovering and putting on a smile that—to Adrian, at least—was clearly forced.

  “You have a son?” Mr. Frost asked, his drink hovering halfway to his mouth.

  Mr. Arden nodded, waving his hand dismissively. “Had,” he corrected. “He vanished some ten years ago.”

  “Twelve,” Mrs. Arden whispered, though Adrian seemed to be the only one who noticed.

  “Probably offed himself,” Mr. Arden continued. “And good riddance.” When Miss Dawsen gasped, Mr. Arden gave her an apologetic look, then shrugged and said, “The kid was a fag.”

  Adrian's father scoffed, sending a shiver of fear through him. Adrian snuck a glance at the man before quickly looking away, then he caught the flash of pain in Mrs. Arden's eyes. She was covering it well, but Adrian didn't blame the woman when she excused herself a moment later to go powder her nose before they ordered.

  He wanted to escape the table, too, but couldn't think of a decent excuse.

  “Besides,” Mr. Arden went on after his wife had left the table, “Gregor doesn't mix much in rich society, which I'll never understand.” He waved a hand at the table in general. “He probably has more money than all of us combined, but he calls this lifestyle ridiculous.”

  Mr. Dawsen snorted a laugh as his drink was quickly refilled by an attentive waiter. “Oh yes, ridiculous.”

  The others chuckled, but Adrian took a sip of his water, saving himself the effort of joining them.

  He thought he might actually want to meet this Gregor Arden.

  Now there was something he never thought he'd say in his life, but the prospect of a wealthy businessman shunning the kind of lifestyle Adrian's father upheld just sounded too interesting to pass up. Gregor Arden might just be the only rich person Adrian would be able to stand.

  “With all that money,” Mr. Frost said, “he should be investing it. I could certainly–”

  Adrian braced himself, hearing his father gear up for one of his sales pitches, but Silas Arden waved a hand, cutting him off.

  “Trust me, Seb, it's a lost cause. The man's a hopeless case. Believe me, I've tried, but my brother refuses to listen to reason.” Mr. Arden chuckled. “Then again, it might just be that he won't listen to me, but no matter.” He paused, sipping his drink. “So what's all this I hear about the latest numbers in the shipping industry?”

  With that, the conversation turned strictly to business, carrying them through the rest of the dinner. Adrian spent the two-hour ordeal in silence, except when Miss Dawsen directed a question at him, their voices low enough that they wouldn't interfere with the main conversation going on around them. He knew he probably wasn't doing enough to satisfy his father, but he couldn't help it. The effort was already taking him to the very edges of his sanity, even with the help of the pills.

&
nbsp; At the end of the night, they walked their guests out to the valet stand, seeing them off, leaving just Adrian and his father standing there in silence, waiting for their own drivers.

  “Next time,” his father spoke up as the first car came into view, “I want you to make more of an effort.”

  Adrian tightened his jaw. “Yes, sir.”

  “Miss Dawsen would make an excellent match,” his father went on.

  Adrian felt goosebumps break out all over his skin. He tightened his hands into fists behind his back, fighting against every instinct to run away.

  “She's a lovely young lady, and being the only heir to her father's fortune, an alliance with her would be an excellent business move,” Mr. Frost told him, striding away toward the car, where his personal driver was waiting with the door held open.

  Adrian watched them drive off, not so much as a word of goodbye from the man. Standing utterly still, he took a deep breath as Rob pulled up and got out to open the door for him. Adrian slipped into the car, sitting ramrod straight and staring out the window as they made their way back to Adrian's apartment.

  He barely made it inside before he lost control.

  Chapter 10

  ZAC PACED his apartment. Adrian was going to be there any minute, and he couldn't wait. Finally having a chance to get the guy alone? It was a dream come true.

  A soft knock sounded. Zac froze, then rapidly wiped his palms on his jeans before he darted over and yanked open the door.

  He looked up at Adrian, grinning. “Hi.”

  “Hi,” Adrian mumbled, sneaking a glance at Zac's face before lowering his eyes again.

  “Um, come on in.” Zac jumped back, giving Adrian space to come inside. The man stepped carefully past him, and Zac whirled around to shut the door, leaving the world outside and trapping them in isolation. “Um, have a seat. Make yourself at home.”

  Adrian gave a small nod, then headed over to the couch, carefully stepping around piles of stuff that littered the floor. Zac flew after him, scooping up clothes and sheet music, shoving it aside while he muttered apologies for how messy the place was.

  He glanced at Adrian and saw a blank expression on his face.