The dog ran over to Ethan and rounded his feet, sniffing and pawing at his shoes. “He’s cute.”
“Yeah, and he knows it. I’ve got a couch down here or a futon in the loft. It’s not the most comfortable thing, but you can use it.”
Ethan followed close on Niko’s heels with Casper taking up the rear. Niko flipped the switch on the wall and two lamps lit the room, bathing the industrial area in a warm glow. Surprised the space wasn’t cluttered with guy stuff, Ethan walked past a long leather sofa, admiring the expanse of the living area. This was Niko. What lay underneath the weaves of tattoos curling down his arms and up his neck didn’t fit the puzzle pieces of where he lived.
Puzzle was right. Niko Malikov was an enigma.
They both got comfortable on the couch. Niko spread the food containers on the coffee table and Ethan grabbed one of the plastic forks. Ethan started shoving the warm rice in his mouth and Niko laughed.
“Slow down, skinny jeans. You’re going to make yourself sick. If you’re still hungry after this, I’ll fix you something else to eat.”
Heat flooded Ethan’s cheeks. He nodded and took a long drink from the glass of water. “Sorry.”
Niko cupped the back of Ethan’s neck. The gesture was probably meant to comfort like a brother would his younger sibling, but Ethan’s cock filled, swelling until the zipper stretched to contain his excitement.
Ethan tipped his head back like a cat wanting to be petted. At this point, whether Niko’s touch was meant to be just friendly or full-on enticing, he didn’t care. He liked Niko. Through all the macho bravado and denial, there was a man hardened by life, but relentless to live it on his terms. Ethan admired his courage. He’d taken the easy way out, sold his soul to the devil for the perfect deck of cards. The winning full house had turned out to be a losing hand.
“That feels nice,” he mumbled, leaning into Niko’s massaging fingers.
“I wanna kiss you,” he whispered low enough Ethan barely caught what he’d said. “Goddamn, I’ve never wanted something more in my life, but this isn’t for me, Ethan. I’m not like you.”
The words sawed through the warmth Niko had seeped into his body. “Not like me?” He leaned forward, grabbing the Styrofoam container of chicken. “Right. Got it. Not like me. I’m gay and you’re a straight man who can’t decide if he wants dick or pussy. You think this is the first time I’ve run into someone like you? Forget it. No big deal.”
But, it was a big deal. Niko sat back, propped his feet on the edge of the coffee table and forked a piece of broccoli into his mouth. What growing affection Ethan had dared to give way to had dead end written all over it. No sense in leaving himself open to insults and embarrassment. Like being gay was some zombie plague. Niko’s closet was so deep he was never going to find his way out of the bad boy dress shirts and faded jeans. That closet was locked and Ethan was done banging his head against the wall every guy put up.
The time had come to grow up. At least his father was right about one thing. Eventually he was going to have to face his future and, with twenty creeping up next month, now was that time.
God, he wanted someone to hold him. Even for one night, to make him feel special, not because of his pretty looks, but because he was sweet, kind, open-minded, and not up for just another fuck and, like Niko said, no breakfast in the morning.
Tonight he’d fall asleep on Niko’s couch and pretend. Tonight he’d close his eyes and shake off the fear that Charles was somewhere out there. Somewhere lurking in the shadows waiting to snatch him back and lock him into drowning chaos.
*****
Niko stood in the bathroom, the steam filling the small space threatening to choke him out. Jesus, what had he done, putting his hands on Ethan—let alone what had happened in the car? Like a vise tightening around his chest, grabbing Ethan’s hand had been the only thing helping him breathe. Just touching him everything seem right.
A faint knock made him turn away from the frosted mirror. “Do you want me to take Casper out? He’s sitting by the door.”
“I’ll be out in a minute.” Niko studied the back of the door hoping Ethan didn’t notice the hitch in his voice.
“Okay.”
Niko waited for him to say something else—anything. He wanted to hear that voice again. “Fuck it,” he tightened the towel around his waist and opened the door. As moist steam rolled out he took two steps down the hallway. Peering into the living room, he saw Ethan tug the yellow shirt over his head.
Lean sinew danced on either side of his spine as he pulled the T-shirt over his shoulders. The strips of muscles on the back of his arms flexed. He’d been a scrawny kid before beefing up to fight any fucker who met him on the streets.