TAKE ME HOME (10 page)

“I’m not a fucking sex addict who can’t have a friend he doesn’t fuck.” Evan rolled his eyes. “I know that.”

“Okay. So no more weirdness?”

Evan let out a quick, shaky laugh. “No more weirdness.”

“All right.” Kyle returned to the table and loaded the laptop into his backpack. A part of him wished he could leave the computer home, forget about the deadline.

Take Me Home

47

“I need to talk to you about something else.” Evan moved away from the counter and stood close at his back.

Kyle put the backpack aside and sat. “Okay.”

Evan bit his lower lip. Not good. Something he didn’t want to mention.

“Ev, sit your ass in the chair and say it.”

Evan nodded. The move took longer than necessary, and he barely made a sound as he pulled the chair out and sat across from Kyle. He cleared his throat. “The guy who came by the party yesterday… He’s the VP of the Entertainment Division at the network.”

“Holy shit. Why was he there? To congratulate you?”

“I wish. He wanted something from me.”

“What?”

“Well, not really from me. From you.”

“Me?”

Evan stared at the table with as much focus as he’d given the floor tile. “They have a show they’re doing research for, and they think you can help them.”

“I don’t understand.”

“That’s what I first said. Then Hastings told me you could help with American Treasures.

They’re working on a list of lost treasures for the show, trying to figure out which ones to use, where the clues are, that kind of thing.” He raised his head and met Kyle’s stare with a sadness in his eyes he hadn’t had in weeks. “Well, I guess…”

“What?”

“They think you have something they need. It might have clues to some hidden money or something. He wouldn’t tell me what they think is in the journal.”

“Journal? My grandpa’s journal?”

“I guess. He said you had a journal they wanted to look at. Said they are willing to pay you if it has information they can use for the show.”

“For the show?” Kyle stood, stalked across the room, and ditched his coffee mug into the sink. The two mugs cracked as they collided. So much for the coffee to write by. Perhaps it was time for a change in more ways than one. He gripped the edge of the countertop in both hands.

“I’ve only read two pages. How would they know what’s in it? How do they know it exists?

Grandpa said I was the only one to know about it. Just him and me. And he’s dead.” Kyle hated the way he’d spat out the word “dead.”

“I don’t know,” Evan said. “Hastings wouldn’t answer my questions.” Kyle paced the small kitchen, two strides in each direction before he had to turn. “I guess the law firm knew. They sent me the journal, and they must have kept it for him these last two years.”

“Wouldn’t that be confidential?” Evan asked.

Kyle stopped. “Nothing is confidential given enough pressure and enough money. People can get their hands on anything.”

Evan looked away. There was something he didn’t want to admit.

“Why did they come to you with this?” Kyle asked.

48

Sloan Parker

“They know we’re friends.”

“And a VP from the network just asked you to talk to me? Are they putting pressure on you?”

“I told him I’d mention it to you. That it was your decision.” Nice try, Ev. That didn’t answer the question.

A knock sounded on the door.

Evan stood. “Cab. Must be early.” He slid past Kyle and hurried for the apartment door.

“I forgot something,” Kyle said. “You start loading up. I’ll be right back.” He went to his room and grabbed his grandpa’s journal from the nightstand drawer. He hesitated. He had to read more, had to find out what other secrets it contained. Even if he wasn’t sure he wanted to know.

He tucked it under his arm and headed out of his room. He froze. At the end of the hall by the front door was Evan’s ex. Evan had his hand on the doorknob of the open apartment door.

The two were silent, staring at each other.

Dickhead was over half a foot taller than Evan, and he was bigger than Kyle, all muscle and solid body. He wore his leather chaps over jeans and his big-ass biker boots. His black helmet with the green serpent coiled on the back hung from his hand. The dark stubble on his face was new. And sexy. Damn him. The smart, tough-looking, bike-riding professor who all the students, gay or straight, at the University of Southern California fell for.

Kyle couldn’t read Evan’s expression.

Dickhead moved closer to him. “I need to talk to you.” He raised his free hand but stopped short of running it through Evan’s hair. Least he knew better than to touch what was no longer his.

Evan shook his head. “We’re leaving.” His voice cracked with the words. He was still hurting.

Nice timing, Dickhead.

He’d had six months to realize what he’d given up. Maybe he wasn’t as smart as the professor gig implied. Especially after what he’d said to Kyle when the breakup had first occurred and Kyle had gone to see him. He hadn’t been sure what he could do to get them back together, but he had to try. Of course, when he’d gotten there, he’d just stood silently in the doorway of Dickhead’s office. He’d planned to ask what the hell he was thinking and mention all Evan’s qualities that made him one hell of a catch, but he’d been unable to force the words out.

Maybe Lorrie had been right about what he’d been feeling, even then.

Dickhead had stood behind his desk and stared back at Kyle, then said, “Don’t bother. I know what I’m doing.” Kyle had wanted to say what he was doing was destroying Evan, but again the words escaped him. He’d simply turned and left.

Now here he stood, words failing him yet again as he watched the two men down the hall.

“I got your e-mail.” Dickhead looked at the bags packed by the door. “You’re still going to Ohio?”

“Yes.” Evan’s gaze was focused on the black helmet with the snake. Or on the huge hand of the man holding it.

“It’s early to be leaving,” Dickhead said.

Take Me Home

49

“Might as well go now.” Evan picked up one of his bags. “There’s nothing keeping me here.”

“Let me take you to the airport.”

A surge of possessiveness slammed into Kyle. He strode to the end of the hall. “Hey, Doc, all that education and you can’t figure out it’s not possible to fit a man and all his luggage on your bike?”

Slowly, Dickhead looked Kyle’s way. The expression wasn’t filled with anger but sadness.

Kyle wasn’t about to apologize, but he did feel bad. Dickhead was obviously hurting, missing Evan. That didn’t mean Kyle could stop his next words. “And we’re leaving early because we’re taking the train. Got our own private room and everything.” A car honked outside, and Evan said, “That’s our ride.”

“Can we talk?” Dickhead asked, his attention on Evan again.

Evan grabbed his other bag. “I don’t have time for this.”

“Wait.” Dickhead clutched Evan by the forearm.

Kyle flinched but kept his feet planted. After the breakin the night before and with his current level of frustration, who knew what he’d do to Dickhead. Something about shoving the bike helmet up his ass was sounding a little too good. But it wasn’t like Dickhead was being that rough. And it wasn’t like Evan was pushing him away. Like he did to you last night. Kyle strode past them into the kitchen and got his backpack. He couldn’t help himself. He looked their way again.

“I’ll be here when you get back.” Dickhead drew away from the touch in a rush, like he knew he had no right. “We need to talk.”

“There’s nothing to talk about,” Evan said.

“Yes, there is.” He forced Evan to look up at him with a hand on his chin. He ran a thumb over Evan’s cheek. There was nothing rough about that touch. “There’s our future.”

“I don’t think you understand the concept of breaking up with someone. That’s you saying you don’t want a future together.”

“I need to explain. I need to talk to you.” Dickhead made eye contact with Kyle, then focused on Evan again. “Alone.”

Evan faced the door, but half of Dickhead was blocking the way. Asshole. Using his size against Evan.

“Maybe when I get back,” Evan finally said.

“All right.” Dickhead stepped aside and watched as Evan made his way down the four flights of stairs to the cab waiting below. Without looking Kyle’s way, Dickhead said, “I still love him.”

“Then what did you hurt him for?”

“I didn’t mean to. I wanted…” He clutched his bike helmet in both hands.

“Whatever.” Kyle shoved the journal into his backpack, grabbed his bags and the winter coat he’d need in Ohio, and went to leave.

Dickhead stepped in his way. “You’ll hurt him more than I ever did. You know that, right?”

50

Sloan Parker

“I’d never hurt him. I’m the one person who hasn’t.” Well, that wasn’t exactly true, but he damn well planned on never hurting Evan again.

“Sure, you haven’t.” Dickhead turned and made his way down the stairs. His bike roared a moment later; then the tires squealed as he drove off. Dickhead.

What did he think? He could show up and Evan would be waiting for him? Maybe that was what was supposed to happen. Maybe Dickhead’s timing wasn’t so bad after all.

Evan returned and locked the door behind Kyle. They didn’t speak as they helped the cab driver put their bags in the trunk and then slid into the backseat.

He’d never been bothered by silence. He preferred the written word over talking, action over dialogue. Until now. “He wants you back.”

Evan stared out the side window.

Kyle wanted to ask what Evan was going to do. Instead, he said, “I didn’t know you two were talking again.”

“We’re not. It was one e-mail. Just ‘happy holidays.’” He waved a hand through the air like it was nothing.

“I get it. You were baiting the hook. Looks like he took a bite.” Evan continued to stare out the window. Finally, he said, “I guess he did.” So much for something happening on the trip. So much for the small quarters of their sleeper compartment. For all the condoms and lube Kyle had brought. For everything he’d imagined the night before when they’d been jerking off.

He wouldn’t get in the way of Evan’s happiness. He’d back off, and everything would go back to the way it was before—

Evan turned toward him. “What if that’s not what I want anymore?” The concentrated stare from the usually reserved Evan Walker wasn’t what Kyle had expected. The look was filled with lust and determination. Kyle forced down a stiff swallow.

“What do you want?”

The silence stretched on until it didn’t seem Evan would answer. Then he did. He slid his hand under the coat draped across Kyle’s lap and gripped his thigh. He worked his hand higher, finally cupping the bulge at the front of Kyle’s jeans.

“Oh God,” Kyle whispered as he raised his hips off the seat. He’d never been on the receiving end of this bold, flirtatious Evan. He couldn’t believe how much it drove him crazy.

Evan laughed. He continued to move his hand up and down, teasing, putting pressure in all the right places.

Remembering where they were, Kyle squeezed the edge of the seat beside him and forced himself to sit still, to breathe through his nose so he wouldn’t let out an embarrassing moan usually reserved for virgins getting their first handjob. If he made a sound, if he moved, Evan might pull back. Like that night in the motel. Every ounce of his body urged him to roll over onto Evan, press him into the back of the seat, and lay a kiss on him neither of them would ever forget.

The cab driver cleared his throat, and Evan removed his hand in a flash. He pulled away until he was plastered to the side door, staring out the window again.

Kyle whispered, “You’re such a tease.”

Take Me Home

51

“I am not.” Evan’s tone was defensive, but he couldn’t hide the smirk. He fixed his gaze on Kyle again. “I’m not a tease.”

How was Kyle supposed to be noble and let Evan get back to the life he wanted when Evan came on to him like that?

Was it too late to trade in those train tickets and get on a goddamn plane?

Fuck that. And fuck nobility. Hadn’t Evan given him an answer on what he wanted? Kyle.

Or more precisely Kyle’s dick.

Thank God for the condoms and lube he’d packed.

Thank God for the train.

52

Sloan Parker

“Stop. Don’t you move one more inch.”

Kyle halted at the woman’s request, his hand on the strap of the backpack slung over his shoulder, his winter coat tucked under his arm and a duffel bag in his other hand. He and Evan had gotten on the train at the wrong location and had to walk through the upper deck of more than one coach car to get to the sleeper cars. The seats were filling up as they went by, and Kyle had been meandering around a stream of passengers when the woman had shouted her command.

Evan laughed from behind him. “She didn’t mean you.” He pointed over Kyle’s shoulder to the floor in front of them.

A little girl with dark hair and darker eyes stared up at him. Maybe six or seven years old.

She giggled, then took off running in the direction he and Evan had been heading, her tennis shoes lighting up at the back with each step. The slew of passengers did nothing to slow her down.

“Rebecca Lynn! You get back here now.” The woman’s voice came from his right. A young woman, thin and short, maybe five feet tall, if that. She stood on a seat, bent forward to keep her head from touching the ceiling of the train. Her face gave away her age as older than her height suggested. Midtwenties, maybe older. She had her hair in a high ponytail that swung back and forth as she peered around the passengers. She had gorgeous dark eyes, and even with the frown, he knew she’d have a killer smile. If he had ever been straight a day in his life, he’d have been seriously interested. Trapped by the aisle full of passengers, she watched as the girl named Rebecca ran away. Definitely the expression made by a mom. Exactly like he’d seen his sis look at her kids.

A member of the train crew was gesturing at the woman. “Ma’am, please get down off the seat.”

She pointed toward where the girl had run off. “My daughter…” Kyle handed his coat and duffel to Evan and said to the young woman, “I’ll get her.” He took off toward the other end of the car, slipping around passengers and offering his apologies as he went. Rows of two seats on each side flanked the blue carpeted aisle that was wider than most airplane aisles but was still barely enough space for two people to get by each other.