Cover Up (10 page)

Two hours later, they escaped. Alicia hooked her arm in his. “Up for an early lunch? I want to hear all about the new roomie.”

“Sure thing.”

An early lunch wasn’t unusual. Their brains were so fried after stats, they needed the break. He had no regrets about choosing to take stats as part of his lighter course load. He’d have been hard-pressed to keep up in that class with a full complement of courses.

They grabbed food and easily found a table at this early hour. Alicia’s boyfriend, Chris, showed up moments later, tray laden with food.

“Hey, Chris.”

“Hey, Parker.” Chris gave Alicia a deep kiss, which had flustered Parker when he’d first met them, but he was used to their casual displays of affection and, by now, a tiny bit envious.

“So, tell me all about him,” Alicia prompted.

Chris smiled at him. “You met a guy? You know my girl’s going to want to check him out.”

“Oh, uh, no, not exactly.” He’d met a guy, all right. It hadn’t even been a week, but if Ivan was gay, he might be the perfect man for Parker.

“Oh my God, don’t you ever listen to me?” Alicia flicked Chris on the shoulder, and he pretended to be mortally wounded. They’d been dating long enough that Alicia did no more than roll her eyes. “Parker’s new roommate moved in this week.”

“It sucks you need a roommate. Most of them are complete shits, and the rest of them are even worse,” Chris said loudly, making sure he got the attention of his own roommate who walked past. Thom merely flipped Chris off before smiling and nodding at Parker and Alicia.

Parker smiled back. He’d only met Thom a few times, but he was nice enough. Thom and Chris actually got along very well, but they both seemed to enjoy a contentious relationship.

Chris flipped Thom off in return and looked back at Parker. “Seriously, though, most of them do suck.” He got a funny look on his face, and Alicia flicked his shoulder again.

“Don’t say it.”

“Say what?” Chris played up being both innocent and offended.

“You were going to say how Parker would be happy if his roommate did suck. Literally.”

Parker did laugh this time, and no one had to know there was a grain of truth in the statement.

“What, am I wrong?” Chris turned his palms up and looked to Parker for support.

“No, not really.”

Alicia gasped, but then she laughed too. “Eh, getting laid once in a while wouldn’t kill you.”

Kill him? No. Embarrass the crap out of him? Maybe. It had been so long since another guy had touched him, he’d probably go off in seconds like a volcano. It didn’t help that almost every sight of Ivan made him hard.

“Seriously, though,” Chris said again, but this time he sounded serious. “If someone’s looking for a new roommate mid-semester? They probably got booted for being an asswipe. You should have waited until the beginning of a semester at least.”

Parker shrugged. He’d let them think he needed a roommate for financial reasons, because he hadn’t wanted to admit how lonely he was. If either of them had known, he was sure they’d invite him out more often, although he hated being the third wheel. Spending the weekend hanging out with Ivan had been unbelievably awesome.

“He’s not a student, although he did say he might audit a few classes.” As a matter of fact, on Sunday, Ivan had requested his class schedule. He’d love it if Ivan meant to audit his classes. Neil thought school was boring and hated listening to Parker talk about his classes. Which was one reason he’d never bothered introducing him to Alicia and Chris.

“Oh, yeah? Tell us all.” Alicia waved a french fry at him to emphasize her command. Parker grabbed it from her hand and ate it. Tasted better than the small salad he’d ordered and finished already.

Parker quickly outlined his interactions with Ivan since he’d moved in.

“Holy shit, can we trade roommates?” Chris asked. “The cooking alone makes him better than Thom.”

Uh, no. Thom was a nice guy, but Parker wasn’t giving Ivan up.

“You like him, don’t you?” Alicia asked. “Maybe you should ask him out.”

Parker choked on his water. “Ask him out? No way.” If he’d been talking to Neil, he would have said he didn’t like Ivan that way. But Alicia was never judgmental, and he accepted that she sensed how attracted he was to Ivan.

“Why not? He’s single.”

“He’s divorced, yes. But he had a wife. He’s straight.”

Alicia snorted. “Yeah, because marriages have never broken up because the guy
came out
. Might even explain why he got hosed in the divorce.”

Huh. He’d never got that sense from Ivan. He’d be able to tell, wouldn’t he? “I don’t think he’s gay. And I don’t think he knows I’m gay. I haven’t found the right time to tell him.” Parker didn’t do a great job of hiding it, but coming out and saying it to a guy like Ivan was a lot more terrifying than assuming Ivan had already guessed.

“You’re not worried about his reaction, are you? Because if he was a total ’phobe, he’d have asked before he moved in, wouldn’t he?” Chris grabbed one of Alicia’s fries.

Was that normal behavior? Parker was pretty sure he couldn’t ask a potential roommate about that—discrimination and all that—but was that the type of thing Ivan would have asked about, if he cared? “Would you ask that?”

“No way, man. I don’t give a shit. But I tell you, I’ve heard all kinds of stories about asshole roommates. If you’re nervous, we could come over, hang out while you spill.”

Parker had to smile. Unspoken were the words “protect you.” Chris’s willingness to stand up for him meant more than he could say, and Chris was an imposing, intimidating specimen. Regardless of Ivan’s orientation, he couldn’t believe the man who’d so tenderly bandaged his damaged shin could become dangerous just from finding out Parker was gay. And he was pretty sure he’d hidden his attraction.

“Well, asking him out would accomplish the same thing as some grand confession. And you’d find out if he was gay and if he was into you.”

“He’s not into me. I’d be able to tell, so asking him out would only make things weird at home. He’s only been living there less than a week!”

“Right.
You
could tell if they’re into you. Parker, you could get laid right now, if you’d just open your eyes.”

Parker peered around the cafeteria. All he saw was Thom sitting with a few friends. Thom gave him a little wave, and Parker waved back.

“What are you talking about?”

“So freaking blind.” Chris shook his head sadly. Parker frowned at him, but neither of them explained.

Although not as bad as when Neil teased him, the topic had him a little defensive, which meant it was time to change the subject. “Tell me about Mexico.”

Alicia reached over and patted his hand, giving him a sympathetic look he didn’t really understand.

T
HE
elevator doors opened, and Ivan allowed the crowd to propel him out. A bright shaft of sunlight from the glass lobby doors lit up a geometric wedge of polished granite floor. Sweat slicked his forehead like the building’s AC had been set to hellfire, but the true temperature was immaterial.

Out in the sunshine was better, but not any cooler. The breeze helped, regardless of the underlying urban scents—diesel fumes, garbage, urine. He rounded a corner, unwilling to endure the claustrophobic confines of the subway just yet. Especially considering the circuitous route he needed to take to separate his two lives.

The first door he came to was a tiny falafel shop. The scent of grease, seasoned meat, and fried chickpea patties was almost too much to bear, but they had a fridge with soft drinks, and he bought two ice-cold cans, one to drink and the other to press against his forehead.

Were you supposed to lie to your therapist? Even one that had been assigned by the department? Having to lie about everything, including the worsening nightmares, had to negate any benefits. Assuming there were any. But the last thing he needed was for the guy to prescribe him sleeping pills. No way could he allow drugs to incapacitate him, not when he was sleeping in a criminal’s house. A sweet, adorable, gorgeous criminal, but that only made him more dangerous. If sin wasn’t alluring, crime wouldn’t be rampant.

Then again, he’d never had nightmares while undercover before. He’d never had to lie on multiple fronts before. His family thought he was on legitimate undercover work. His coworkers and the SIU investigators thought he was on administrative leave, getting his head on right. Parker thought he was a straight, divorced insurance salesman. His shrink thought he was resisting therapy, setting up roadblocks, but Doc Sanchez was just one more person he couldn’t trust with the truth.

When Doc Sanchez decided he needed to see him twice a week instead of once a week, Ivan hadn’t realized that meant getting two different types of interrogation in one day. Stacking a meeting with the SIU investigator and a shrink on the same day seemed efficient. He’d not make that mistake again, if he could avoid it.

Fuck, was he ever tired.

Letting his head hang, he tried to stretch out the knots in his neck. They’d arrived, hard like marbles, while he’d attempted to save that bleeding kid, and nothing, not even last night’s orgasm, was enough to smooth them out. The dull ache behind his eyes had to be a combination of lack of sleep and muscle tension.

Ivan checked his watch. He should get going if he didn’t want to spend two hours taking some random route back to Parker’s in the midst of rush hour traffic. He might really lose his fucking shit if he had to endure that.

I
VAN
made it home without any other incident, and he stood outside on the sidewalk. His stomach growled, and he glanced down the street. Which would require the least amount of energy: walking down a couple of blocks for takeout or making dinner?

Breathing deeply, he stared at the front door, rubbing the back of his neck. Maybe he’d just go to sleep. The absolute least effort.

Inside the house, he sniffed. It smelled like… food?

“Parker?”

Parker popped out of the kitchen with a broad smile. “Ivan. You’re home. I thought you’d be later.”

Ivan smiled back, letting himself slip into the strange comfort of his undercover persona. Nightmares or not, coming home to Parker was a hell of a lot better than going back to his empty apartment or trolling bars for a hookup.

“Some days are better than others.”

“I made dinner. Or, I tried to. It’s just soup, but I didn’t think I could screw it up too badly, and it wouldn’t matter much what time you got home.”

Dinner was made. Amazing. When was the last time he’d come home to dinner? Months. Long before Colin moved out.

“I’m sure it’s fine.” He took a couple of steps toward Parker, but stopped when he realized he’d been on autopilot for a hug and kiss. Parker might be gay, but Ivan
Baker
wasn’t.

“Anything on that enormous TV of yours tonight?” Ivan lacked affinity for any specific shows. With his hours, getting wrapped up in a show was pointless effort, but he was happy to watch just about anything.

Parker shrugged. He walked back into the kitchen to stir the soup. Ivan followed him and poured a glass of wine. “Want one?”

That got him another shy smile, one that seemed to say Parker was unaccustomed to simple courtesy.

“Sure, thanks.”

When Parker’s attention returned to the stove, Ivan grabbed the open bottle of wine.

“Are you wanting to go for another run tonight?” Parker asked.

After their slothful day on the couch Saturday, he’d spent part of Sunday showing Parker the basics of running. They hadn’t gone far, but Parker didn’t have any regular exercise regime that Ivan could see, and it sure as hell didn’t hurt for him to counteract some of the worst college excesses.

“Liked it, did you?”

Parker made a sound Ivan took for assent. “I’m a little sore, but yeah.”

“That’ll go away after a few times.” Ivan bobbed up and down on the balls of his feet, testing his own muscles. After the day he’d had, though, believing he’d be able to rouse himself enough for an evening run was… optimistic at best.

“Don’t think I’m up for one tonight. I’m beat.”

Parker twisted his head around and frowned. “You do look tired. I thought you said work was better today.”

A sardonic laugh escaped his lips as he grabbed another wine glass from the top shelf. “No, I think I said some days were better than others. Just because I got home at a decent hour, more or less, doesn’t mean work was any better.”

He sure as shit didn’t want to think about his day. These different facets of his life were a little too big to keep in his brain.

The soup bubbled and spat. With Parker’s attention back on the stove, Ivan let himself study Parker. The contentment he’d felt after walking in to Parker’s happy smile was something he didn’t want to examine, nor did he want to consider what made Parker decide to take a criminal detour when he appeared so firmly to be on the right path.

Later. He’d let himself think about it later. Until he had a chance to search the place, until he had a chance to follow Parker and assess his associates, he’d let himself be Ivan Baker, insurance salesman. That guy was a lot less complicated. He kinda liked Ivan Baker’s life.

He stepped up behind Parker, glass in hand, and slid Parker’s glass of wine onto the counter beside the stove.

“There’s your wine.”

“Oh thanks. Can you grab bowls?”

“Sure.” Ivan pulled away, unsure if the request was intended to make him back off or not. He took a small mouthful and placed his glass down before turning away to grab bowls.

“Oh shit!”

The crash of glass had Ivan whirling into a crouch, reaching for a gun he no longer carried. Parker stared down at the broken glass, red wine spattered like blood across the floor. It took a moment for Ivan to convince himself there was no danger, no reason for his pulse to shoot through the roof.

Parker bent over and grabbed at one of the larger shards. Ivan was wrong, there was a bit of danger. “Stop.”

Parker froze, hand outstretched.

“Let me clean that up.” Ivan took a deep breath, trying to calm his racing heart.