Chapter 12
CHAPTER TWELVE
I am consumed by you.
The words echoed in Malcolm’s head, a relentless refrain through the remainder of his shift.
Who said things like that to another person?
Something that could cut right through Malcolm’s fears and insecurities.
It was surreal that Bull, a man who had been right in front of him for months, was saying and doing things that made Malcolm’s knees weak.
Things he hadn’t even known he craved in a partner.
He could have missed it. That was the part tripping him up the most. Bull never would have said anything. He would have continued living his life—being a good friend and an amazing boss—never once letting it show that he wanted more from Malcolm.
Maybe, eventually, Malcolm could have found a woman who made him feel the way Bull did, but he had a hard time believing it. Bull fit into all the hidden nooks and crannies inside Malcolm without even trying.
I am consumed by you.
The rest of the day dragged on—despite them being busy as hell—his mind preoccupied with finishing what he and Bull had started in the office.
He’d gotten three separate orders messed up, something he hadn’t done since he first started serving.
Dahlia’s knowing smirk and pointed stares at the hickey on his neck only made it worse.
He was more than ready for the shift to be over.
But when he finished his side work and was free to leave for the night, he found Bull in a heated discussion about a missing order of beef with the head cook in the kitchen. He smiled at Malcolm and wished him a good rest of his night and then turned back to Raul.
He lingered in the doorway for a second before heading out to his car.
So much for leaving together and picking things up at Bull’s place. Or in his truck.
Hell, he’d have followed Bull back into the office and dropped to his damn knees without him even having to ask.
I am consumed by you.
He trudged up the steps to his apartment, wondering how he’d ever been around Bull and not noticed how sexy the man was.
His heart skipped a beat when his phone vibrated in his pocket.
He pulled it out, nearly dropping it in his hurry, and held his breath, having no shame about how much he hoped it’d be from Bull.
For the first time since they’d met, he was disappointed to see it was Dahlia texting him.
LBF
Are you going to tell me what I interrupted today?
Malcolm snorted.
Malcolm
Not on your life.
Which… was probably a lie.
He didn’t have anyone else to talk to about what was happening between him and Bull, so he’d probably cave eventually.
On their way into the restaurant earlier, she’d already been badgering him to spill the details of what had happened after he’d talked to her on Sunday.
It wasn’t that he didn’t trust her or didn’t want her opinion.
It was just that a bigger part of him wanted to keep what was happening between him and Bull just between the two of them, at least for a little while longer.
Plus, he was pretty sure she wouldn’t have much advice for some of the things he was contemplating. As far as he knew, she and Becca were… very vanilla. What kind of advice would she have if he told her that sometimes, when Bull called him baby boy , he had the urge to call him Daddy ?
He frowned at the burnt-out light bulb above his door. Sighing, he sent a text to his landlord about it, knowing it wouldn’t amount to anything. He’d end up having to buy a new bulb and teetering precariously on one of his rickety kitchen chairs.
He took a quick shower, rinsing the smell of food off himself, and contemplated texting Bull to see if he was at home. Would that make him seem needy, though? Pulling on gym shorts and Bull’s T-shirt that he’d “accidentally” stolen, he settled on his couch and stared at his phone.
I am consumed by you.
Fuck, even if it did make him needy, Bull wouldn’t care. He shivered. He had a pretty good idea of just how much Bull wouldn’t mind—would, in fact, appreciate Malcolm being open and honest about what he was feeling and wanting, just like Bull always was with him.
God, this man had him tangled up in knots, and it had only been a few days .
Making up his mind, he threw his phone charger, toothbrush, and clothes for work the next day into a beat-up old Nike bag he’d bought at Goodwill a few years ago. There was a tiny hole in the seam near one of the corners, but otherwise, it worked just fine on the rare occasions he used it.
He practically skipped all the way back out to his car, a feeling of anticipation expanding inside him, making him light as a feather.
A reel of sights and sounds from the day before combined with the things Bull had said to him earlier in Sally’s office and replayed in his head as he backed out of his parking spot and headed down the street.
His dick was half-hard by the time he reached the first stop sign.
As he pulled up outside of Bull’s house a few minutes later, much of those happy feelings had dissipated, replaced with worry he was going to bother Bull.
It was late, and he hadn’t checked the schedule to see when Bull would be going in tomorrow.
Sally usually covered opening, but not always.
What if Bull was already in bed or relaxing and would be annoyed at the interruption?
He shook his head. He could be chill. He’d just see what Bull was up to and check if he was interested in hanging out. Nodding to himself, Malcolm turned off his car and pulled out his phone, sending off a quick text.
Malcolm
Hey, are you still up?
Right after he sent it, he realized what it sounded like. God, he might as well have sent an eggplant emoji and some water droplets. Grimacing and panicking a little, he quickly shot off another message.
Malcolm
I meant, are you already in bed?
Oh, fuck. Was that even worse? It sounded like he was about to ask what Bull was wearing!
Frustrated, he sent a third text, trying to ignore the horror show that was him attempting to be chill.
Malcolm
That’s not what I meant either. I was just wondering what you were up to.
That sounded normal. Like what a normal human with normal thoughts and desires would have sent.
He nearly jumped out of his skin when his phone started vibrating in his hand. Swallowing, he took a few steadying breaths before answering. “Hey, Bull.”
“Baby boy, why didn’t you just knock on the door?”
Slowly panning his head to the right, he stared at Bull standing in the open doorway of his home, wearing nothing but low-slung sweats, a shoulder propped against the jamb, phone in one hand and what looked like a kitten in his other.
“I didn’t want to bother you,” Malcolm said slowly, grateful he was so far away that Bull couldn’t see how red his face was. “You know, in case you were already in bed for the evening.”
Bull chuckled, the sound low and tickling Malcolm’s belly. “Come inside.”
And then he hung up and disappeared from the doorway.
Thanks to the light within, Malcolm could see it was still cracked open, welcoming him.
Swallowing, he shoved his phone in his bag, climbed out, and hustled up the driveway, cutting across to the porch on the curved sidewalk.
Just as he laid a hand on the door to push it open, a little gray face appeared in the gap.
“Dammit, Rose,” Bull growled, his heavy footsteps moving closer. “You’re an indoor cat now.”
Grinning, Malcolm scooped up the tiny kitten and slipped inside, using his back to shut the door behind him. He scratched under the fluffy escape artist’s chin, grinning when she started to purr. Glancing up at Bull, shyness nearly overwhelmed him. He sank his teeth in his lip. “Um. Hey.”
Bull strode over and slowly lifted a hand to Malcolm’s face, watching him closely the whole time. When he didn’t pull away, Bull cupped his cheek, long fingers curling around to the back of his neck, and leaned in to lay a soft kiss on the corner of his mouth. “Hey, baby boy.”
Tingling all over, Malcolm let Bull take the bag off his shoulder and carry it over to the couch, setting it on the end.
Bull was still holding another kitten, the all-white creature looking positively minuscule in his large hand.
Malcolm’s was gray with some white on her chest and paws and brilliant blue eyes.
He’d known that Bull had recently adopted the cats who had shown up at his back door, but none of them had come out yesterday when he’d been there, so he hadn’t laid eyes on any of them.
A third ball of fluff scampered over, looking eerily similar to the one Malcolm was holding, and began to climb up Bull’s sweats. He smiled down at the tiny thing and scooped it up so he held a kitten in each hand, cuddled close to his chest.
Malcolm had never really thought of himself as a cat person, but the sight had his heart melting. There was just something so sweet about a man Bull’s size gently handling the small animals.
“Dorothy doesn’t like being left out,” Bull said, lowering his head to let Dorothy bump his chin with her forehead.
Swallowing the lump in his throat, Malcolm said, “Rose and Dorothy? Are you telling me that one’s Sophia?”
Bull ducked his head, smiling shyly. “No, this is Blanche. Sophia is the mama cat.”
“Of course,” Malcolm said, nodding like that was the most sensible thing he’d ever heard. He peered around but didn’t see any sign of another cat in the living room.
“She’s a little more shy,” Bull said. “I’m sure she’ll get used to you before too long though.”
Malcolm liked how that sounded, the idea that he would be around enough that she would eventually grow comfortable in his presence.
It was a casual thing to say, yet the implications were enormous, at least to Malcolm.
Bull was acting like him coming around for the foreseeable future was just a given. Inevitable.
I am consumed by you.