Chapter 10
Chapter Ten
Caleb
You can stay with me. The words hang between us.
Neither of us says anything while the plane comes to a halt and everyone around us comes back to life, including a very disorientated Nils.
‘We on the ground?’ he asks, and all I can do is nod as Johannes gets up and swings his bag onto his back. ‘Cool.’ Nils doesn’t make any effort to move, just stares bleary-eyed at the goings-on around him, waiting for everyone else to deplane before he does.
The bulk of people start to file out, but both Johannes and I seem to be lingering.
Him, probably because he’s waiting for an answer, and me, because I don’t know what to say.
It’s a nice offer and all, but I’m not an idiot; we both felt that slight crackle between us last night.
It hit me like a big red warning sign as I stood on the doorstep of the apartment I was sharing with Ian and a bunch of the other mechanics.
That was after just one night of being out with him – in a group.
A few hours in normal civilisation. He’s talking about seven days.
Six whole nights. That’s a long time to have to sit with this charged energy between us and do nothing about it.
Maybe he didn’t feel it. Or maybe, because he’s Johannes Müller and can have any man in the world, he gets this all the time so barely clocked it.
Maybe.
I tell myself it would be nice not to be confined to the four walls of a hotel room.
It would be nice not to wake up alone. Not that I’d be waking up to him, of course.
I don’t mean that. I just mean, it would be nice to wake up to someone drinking coffee in the kitchen.
I bet he has so many fancy machines. I wouldn’t have to eat room service for a week.
We could even travel into the factory together.
It would make the days and evenings here a little less lonely.
Although, he might have plans and is actually just offering me a place to sleep – a bed and nothing more.
Not company in the kitchen, homecooked meals, or time spent hanging out before or after work.
My brain feels like it’s in overdrive. I should just let him know I’m grateful for his offer, but the hotel is fine.
I should really have sorted a place in the UK already, especially with summer break coming up, but I’ve been so busy writing up my thesis in every spare minute that it’s not been my top priority.
I’m stalling. The plane is mostly empty and I just stand here, unable to take a single step towards the exit.
‘Um, were you serious?’ I ask Johannes.
‘Yeah, of course, man. Don’t we spend enough time in hotels? You shouldn’t have to do it whilst we’re at base, too.’ He’s smiling like he means it and I really would be a fool to turn him down.
Or maybe a fool to agree, but here we are.
‘Okay, well that would be nice. Thank you.’
‘Of course. We’ll head there now. I ordered a big food shop to be delivered yesterday so I’m well stocked, but let me know if there’s anything you want and I’ll get that sorted today.
I have a podcast to record this evening and a couple of sponsorship videos to make, but then I can cook us dinner, if you like? ’
‘You don’t have to do that.’ I wave him off. We’ve got a busy few days. The last thing he needs to be doing is running around after me as well as all his work commitments.
‘No, I want to. I like to cook, so let me. Any allergies I should know about?’ I shake my head. ‘Good, let’s go.’
Nils is finally up on his feet, walking down the aisle in front of us when Johannes’s hand finds the small of my back, guiding me off the plane.
I feel like my whole body’s been engulfed in flames.
How can such a light touch burn me to my core?
And yet the last thing I want is for him to move his hand.
‘You good?’ he asks Nils as the Norwegian stretches his whole body in front of us on the tarmac. Most of the team staff have disappeared into various cars and taxis, but there are still two waiting next to the plane.
‘Yeah, I’ll see you tomorrow.’ They share a bro hug and Nils eyes me, still looking a little sleepy.
‘You going with him?’ he asks. There’s a deceptive tone to his voice.
Almost as if he thinks he has everything between Johannes and me figured out, when there’s nothing to figure out. Nothing at all.
‘He’s staying with me whilst we’re getting work done at the factory. See you tomorrow,’ Johannes says, and Nils waves as he heads for his car.
Johannes asks one of the ground crew to load our luggage into the back of his car and before I know it, we’re off and heading to London.
‘Does Nils have a place in the city?’ I ask.
‘No. Don’t ask me who he stays with when he’s here, but it’s someone.
An ex-hook-up or something, I think. But every time we’re here, he goes there.
For someone who usually loves to share the details of his sex life, he’s quite private about this person.
’ I hear exactly what Johannes is laying out: this person is different.
I struggle to imagine Nils being serious about anyone, but then four years ago I would have said the same about Harper James and look at him now.
‘As long as he’s all right, I guess?’
‘Exactly. He’s twenty-three and living his best life. None of our business who he stays with as long as he’s not out of control or being stupid or hurting himself, so who are we to stop him?’
We settle into a conversation about what we were like at that age as we drive through the outer boroughs towards the centre of the city.
I can’t stop a breathless ‘Wow’ from leaving my lips as we step out of the elevator into Johannes’s penthouse apartment. Because it’s truly stunning. So modern, so sleek, but not soulless or boringly white like a lot of these places.
There are nice hues of blue and purple on some of the walls.
His kitchen is decked out with a sleek black counter-top and the cupboards an eye-popping shade of electric blue.
This is not what I was expecting at all, but it’s so very Johannes at the same time.
Edgy, yet refined. You’re never quite sure what you’re going to get with him, but the package as a whole makes total sense.
It’s nicely decked out, with appliances on the island, a fancy coffee set-up (of course) and a six-burner high-end range cooker.
He leads me into a big living area furnished with a massive TV and one of the biggest L-shaped couches I’ve ever seen.
But what steals my attention – and my breath – is the giant naked photograph of him on the wall above the mantel.
It’s tastefully shot, but everything is on display except for his dick, which is covered by one of his racing helmets.
It captures a lot of his side profile, so I get a complete view of the delicious curve of his ass and …
wow, I need to stop staring but I can’t take my eyes off it.
I will not be able to spend a single second in here without my eyes drifting up to it.
‘It’s got four bedrooms, but when Harper and I lived here we turned one into a gym and the other is a mini home cinema, so there’s only one guest bed but I think it’ll be fine for you.’ I follow him down the corridor, as yet unable to stop thinking about the glorious image of his naked body.
‘En suite through there, and then there’s a walk-in wardrobe, which is empty if you need to hang anything.’
‘You know I’m only staying here for the week, right?’ My jaw’s practically hanging open at the ridiculous size of the bed in the middle of the room. It’s already made up, which I’m sure is courtesy of whoever looks after this place for him, but it looks so luxurious.
‘Yeah?’
I can’t help but laugh. ‘This is amazing. Wow. What an apartment. Thank you for letting me stay.’
‘Of course. I get tired of all the hotels. I much prefer when we’re in the villas in Europe, but it’s nice to come back here, too.
‘Is this not your permanent residence?’ I can’t imagine ever wanting to not live here.
‘No, not really. I have a place in Germany – smaller than this – and I often stay with my parents when I’m over there. I don’t really think of any of them as home.’
Now that I could relate to. I don’t even have my own place in the States. I always stay with my parents when I’m back in Tennessee, which makes me feel like a child.
‘Well, if you ever need a house-sitter, just let me know!’ I’m only half kidding, because I would happily stay here forever.
‘You’re welcome here anytime, man. I’m probably not here enough. I have someone who comes and cleans it every week when I’m away, and who keeps an eye on the place.’ He fiddles with the edge of the comforter on the bed as I pop my case down on the rug and unzip it.
‘I have to go and film a couple of brand videos and then record this podcast, but I’ll be done like five-ish, so dinner for six?’
‘Sounds good. Thanks again.’
‘Make yourself at home. Gym’s to the left and the home cinema the other side.’ He pulls the door halfway shut behind him and heads down the corridor to what I’m assuming is his bedroom.
I take a second to flop down on the massive bed, the amethyst-coloured comforter like a cloud beneath my back.
I desperately need some sleep after last night’s craziness, this morning’s hangover and then the abortive early morning run, but in the back of my mind I know I should be working on my PhD thesis.
The deadline is slowly creeping up on me and as work gets more and more busy, I can’t afford to drop the ball.
Ten minutes. I’ll just lie here for ten minutes and then I’ll get up and maybe make use of the gym and settle in for some writing.
I wake up an hour later, legs draped half off the bed and my mouth dry, but at least I feel more human.
I run for thirty minutes on the treadmill and even try out some of his fancy weights machines, before showering in the biggest bathroom I’ve ever seen classed as an en suite.
I change into a comfy pair of sweatpants and an RBF quarter zip.
Grabbing my laptop, I head out into the lounge in search of a comfy place to sit and type, but the second I settle down in a chunky armchair I’m distracted.
My eyes should be trained on my laptop screen, focusing on the aerodynamics study I’ve been doing, but how am I meant to think about anything when there is such a masterpiece on the wall?
His naked form is practically taunting me from above the mantel, every curve of muscle begging for me to drool over it.
I keep forcing my attention back onto writing my paragraph, but my traitorous eyes slide up to the paragon of perfection on the wall.
I admire the way the light kisses his brown skin, the dips and hollows where the shadows form, the way he exudes strength and vitality.
But I’m most caught up in the beauty of his features and the teasing look in his eyes.
It’s like he knows he’s being watched and he likes it, because he’s the one in control of how I’m responding.
Indeed, my own body cannot help responding.
My cock twitches and thickens in my sweatpants.
I feel sparks racing up and down my spine and heat pools in my belly.
I have to adjust myself to get comfortable again because my cock is springing up, hard now and aching for him to let the helmet fall so I can see the full length of him in all his glory.
My hand creeps towards my groin because I’m starting to feel the need for release and—
Christ, I can’t do this.
Slamming my laptop shut, I tuck it back into its sleeve and gather up my papers.
I don’t like to work in bed, but anything is better than this.
I pass the home cinema on the way down the corridor and slip in there instead.
The plush velvet sofa hugs my body as I throw myself down and stretch out my legs across the thick cushions. This will do.
It’s been a while since I’ve had enough free time to actually lose myself in the research, but I soon get lost in the words, my hands flying across my keyboard as I flesh out the argument of my thesis, every point supported by data and references.
It reminds me of everything I love so much about academia and how much my brain still burns with a need to learn.
I’m not sure how many hours pass; I don’t even really notice the way my ass goes numb from sitting for too long without a break. It’s worth it to see my screen full of my own words and ideas.
‘There you are.’ I almost jump out of my skin at the sound of Johannes’s voice coming from the doorway. Then I make the mistake of peering over my shoulder to see what he wants, only to find him shirtless and in a pair of shorts slung so low on his hips that it should be illegal.
To add to the crime, his skin is coated in a sheen of glistening sweat.
I should not have agreed to stay here.
‘Sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you. I just finished up a workout and thought I’d get started on dinner but couldn’t find you.
’ He’s using a towel to dry his smooth, slick head but doesn’t seem bothered about the damp stretches across the full compass of his abs and I have to mentally tell myself to look away and meet his eyes, to not make this awkward.
‘It’s fine, sorry, I made myself at home in here. This sofa is insanely comfy. I got so many words written.’ Softly, I close my laptop and tuck it up under my arm as I push up off the sofa.
‘Don’t be silly, I told you to make yourself at home. I’m glad you got a lot done. I’m going to make beef and black bean tacos for dinner. That okay?’
Is that okay? A man who can cook, too? Yes please.
No. This is not a yes please kind of moment. We are colleagues. We work together. I’m not interested. And he can’t be. There’s no way. I mean, look at him!
‘Caleb?’ A smirk pulls at the corner of his mouth as my eyes track back up to his face again. Busted.
‘Yep, sounds good. Do I have time for a shower?’ A very cold shower.
‘Sure. Food’ll be ready in twenty.’
Plenty of time for me to get myself together – maybe get myself off so I don’t spend dinner ogling him.
‘Plenty of time.’