15. Chapter 15
Mal
“H ey, Mal. What’s up?”
I glance down the hall, but Henrik’s door is still closed. It’s the first time I’ve been awake before him. I can’t say I blame the man for sleeping in. Not after his whopper of a migraine last night.
“I was hoping you could give me some advice,” I tell Niko quietly, keeping my voice down so I don’t wake Henrik.
Niko hums through the call. “Of course. I was just about to grab some lunch. Wanna join me?”
I open my mouth to decline, so used to passing up opportunities that cost extra cash, but then I realize I can easily afford a simple lunch right now. “Yeah, that’d be great. Where at?”
“I’ll text you the place.”
I tell Niko “Okay,” and twenty seconds later, an address pops up on my phone.
I could call the car service Henrik employs to bring me to meet Niko, but it sounds much too indulgent. Instead, I order an Uber, and within fifteen minutes, I’m walking through the door of a little hole-in-the-wall restaurant with a neon, taco-shaped sign.
Niko is already there when I arrive, and he waves to me from a table. Shaking my head, I walk over.
“This place reminds me of my high-school cafeteria,” I say, plopping down across from him at the school-style table with pedestal stools.
Niko chuckles. “Yeah, Dixon was skeptical the first time I brought him here, too, but they have the best tacos. You’ll see.”
“Did you order already?” I ask.
“Yeah. I got enough for you, too. Hope that’s okay? Extra shrimp.”
It takes me a second to realize he’s messing with me, but once I do, I reach across the table and shove him lightly. “Oh, eff off.”
He laughs, grinning widely. “Love you, too, buddy.”
I shake my head. “How’s work?”
Niko crosses his arms on top of the table, leaning casually against its surface. “Good. Jerome hired on a new guy—Cas. He was hitting the flirt pretty hard, but I shut that down, letting him know I was with Dixon. You should’ve seen Dixon’s face when I told him about it.”
I chuckle. It’s all too easy to picture Dixon’s massive arms crossed over his chest, a scowl lining his displeased face. “I can imagine. What happened?”
“Cas stopped flirting. No harm done. He actually seems like a pretty nice guy. Just a little clueless, like a lost puppy looking for its owner.”
“And Dixon?” I ask.
Niko waves his hand in the air. “Psht, Dixon knows there’s nothing to be jealous of. That grump is the only guy for me.”
I smile a little wistfully, shaking my head. “You two are goals.”
Personally, I don’t know how they do the no jealousy thing. Still working in porn, fucking other guys for the job even as they’re dating.
A server stops by at that moment, dropping off a large circular tray of tacos.
“Thanks,” Niko and I say in tandem.
When the server walks away, Niko hands me a plate off the tray. “Enjoy.”
“You’re going to let me pay half, right?” I ask, loading some of the tacos onto my plate.
“If you want to, then of course,” Niko replies.
“Thanks,” I mumble, glad he’s not going to try to convince me to take his charity. “I sure can afford it now.”
Niko chews his bite, nodding, before saying, “Right. Is that what you wanted to ask me about?”
I hold my finger up for a second, finishing my own mouthful of taco. Damn, that really is tasty. “Is that chorizo?” I ask.
Niko laughs. “Yeah. Good, huh?”
“Uh-huh.” I finish it off in two more bites. “Okay, so I was wondering—what’s the best way to pay off my credit cards?”
Months ago, Niko helped me consolidate some of my debt, moving money around a bit so I didn’t have as many high-interest loans and cards I was paying off.
Even though the guy is working in the adult entertainment industry now, he used to hold some job in finance that I don’t entirely understand.
He has a degree in money something-or-other, so he knows what he’s talking about.
And I appreciate his willingness to help me. I didn’t even know some of the options that he helped navigate me through were options.
Niko nods, wiping his mouth with a napkin before he answers my question. “Well, continue making the minimum payments we planned out. But, if you have additional payments you can make, start with the highest-interest cards.”
“Okay. So… What if I could pay a couple off completely? Should I do that? Or should I spread it around?”
Niko tilts his head, eyebrows raising slightly. “If you can pay off the higher-interest balances, do that. The new job’s going well, I take it?”
I huff a laugh. “I guess you could say that. I’m a little freaked out,” I admit, something I never would have done before. Even the fact that I’m sitting here with Niko now feels like a big deal. Last-month Mal would’ve been determined to figure it out on his own, not wanting to burden his friends.
But now… I don’t know.
I think back to last night and how fulfilled I felt helping Henrik work through his migraine. The absolute wash of gentle euphoria I experienced when his eyes finally closed and he sank into a restful sleep.
I’ve never had the opportunity to take care of someone that way before. Not any humans, at least. The cats are another story. But when it comes to people? I’ve always kept my distance.
Never really trusted anyone.
But these people—Niko, Alex, Dixon—they’ve shown me the veracity of their friendship. And maybe, finally, I’m ready to accept that they’re here to stay.
Feeling the sense of accomplishment I did last night helping Henrik… Well, if that’s how my friends have felt helping me out, I can understand why they’ve been fighting so hard. For me. I get why they do it.
And I feel guilty that I ever tried to brush their concern away.
“Niko,” I say gently, looking up at the man. His warm brown eyes crease slightly, and his hair slips around his shoulder as he tilts his head. “I wanted to say thank you.”
“What for?” he asks.
I swallow a little roughly, taking a sip of the water Niko set aside for me before I arrived.
“That day in Dixon’s kitchen.” Niko’s eyes soften as he remembers the moment I’m talking about.
A few months back, when I was at a low point right before I got evicted, he tried to get through to me.
To tell me that whatever it was I was going through, I had friends to help.
“You told me I wasn’t alone. And I didn’t hear it at the time, not really. But I hear you now. So thank you.”
“Mal,” he says softly, reaching across the table to clasp my arm. I intercept him with my hand, however, squeezing gently. He squeezes back. “You know we’re here for you.”
“Yes,” I say, nodding, because I do. Now, I do.
“Good. And you’re welcome, but you don’t need to thank me. I’m glad to see you looking so…”
“So what?” I ask.
“Happy,” he says at last. “There’s a little light in your eye that wasn’t there before.”
I nod, throat still tight. I’m not 100 percent better, not even close. Money won’t solve all my problems. Neither will that man back in the penthouse, asleep in his luxurious Egyptian cotton sheets.
But it feels like, at the very least, my burden isn’t quite so heavy.
“Things are good,” I confirm.
“But you said you’re still freaking out?” he asks, allowing me to reclaim my hand. I fidget with my napkin, folding it in half a few times.
“Yeah, because I have all this money all of a sudden, and it’s…”
“Scary?” he guesses.
“Yes! Because it’s not going to last.”
And I’m afraid of what happens once it’s gone. Will I be right back where I started? I don’t want to get attached to this feeling if it’s going to be snatched away again. I can’t get used to resting on my laurels.
Niko nods. “Let’s look at your finances and set out a new plan. We can do it as often as you want, okay? Anytime you want to reassess based on where your bank balance is, just let me know. We’ll draw up a new plan.”
“Really?” I ask, shoulders dropping. “Are you sure?”
“Absolutely. C’mon, show me what you got.”
When I get back to Henrik’s penthouse, I’m feeling lighter than I have in a long time. There’s a big smile plastered on my face as I step through the threshold of his entryway, and when I spot Henrik himself sitting on a stool at the island in the kitchen, my smile only widens.
He’s nursing a cup of tea, his head resting gently against his palm, but it swings upright when I step into the entryway.
“Mal?” he asks softly. He’s wearing a soft cotton tee and gray sweatpants, and I about lose my tongue seeing him in something so unusually casual. And so…
I clear my throat. Really, though? Gray sweatpants? Might as well spray the man in catnip.
“Hey,” I finally reply, walking up to him after taking off my shoes. “I brought you some food. How’re you feeling?”
His eyebrows raise slightly in surprise. “Better today. Just a mild headache. You brought food?”
“Yeah. Did you get my message?”
The last time Benji was here, he showed me how to use the braille label maker.
And since I didn’t want to text Henrik to let him know I was going out, afraid it would wake him, I printed out a short message and left it on the handle of the teapot, figuring it would be the quickest way for him to know I was gone when he woke.
Looks like I was right. The label is now sitting on the island countertop beside him.
“I got it,” he says, his fingers tracing over the letters once more. A small smile quirks his lips.
“Good,” I reply, pulling out a stool next to him, making sure it doesn’t scrape against the wood floor loudly. “I have tacos.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah,” I say around a chuckle as Henrik scents the air. “Smell good?”
“Mhm. I need to take a piss first, though,” he says, sliding off the stool.
“All right,” I reply in amusement, watching Henrik’s cotton-swathed ass as he walks away. “Damn. Yeah, all right.”
No, Henrik and his money can’t solve all my problems, but I sure am glad I’m here. That man is…
I sigh. He’s divine. But he’s not mine , and I need to remember that.
I grab a plate and get the tacos ready, but when Henrik’s voice calls my name from down the hall, I stop to listen.
“Yeah?” I call back.
“Do you see a box of new razors out there? Benjamin said he dropped some off, but they’re not in here.”
I peek around the counters, spotting a bag beside the fridge. Sure enough, the razors are inside. Grabbing them, I trot down the hall, coming up short when I walk into Henrik’s room and find the man shirtless, seated on a stool in front of the sink in his en suite.
His broad torso looks golden under the soft glow of overhead lights, the smattering of hair across his chest inviting.
Just a hint of silver, same as on his head.
The gentle dips of his abdomen lead down to the waistband of those damn gray sweatpants, and I’m almost positive I can make out the outline of his soft cock. Is he going commando? Good Lord.
Not yours .
“Mal?”
“Uh, yeah. Razors,” I say, stepping forward and handing Henrik the bag.
He pulls out the contents, swiftly attaching the head of a razor to its handle and then spreading shaving cream across the lower portion of his face. I watch as he wets the razor and begins shaving away his stubble, his movements slow and sure.
“Staring again?” he asks.
I step all the way into the bathroom and lean against the wall beside him. “You’re very good at that,” I note, having a strong suspicion Henrik won’t take offense to the comment.
“I’ve had a lot of practice,” he replies, and I think back to him telling me he only lost the remainder of his sight a couple years ago.
“Is there anything you can’t do?” I ask in earnest, almost backtracking when Henrik’s eyebrow flies up.
But his lips twitch, and he shakes his head.
“Plenty. You already know most of it. Benjamin labels my food and clothes. My driver, Charles, escorts me around town. There are many things I’m limited in.
” He waves his hand toward the toilet, and it takes me a second to notice the device attached.
There’s one in the guest bathroom, too, but I never thought much about it.
“Oh,” I say in realization.
“Oh,” Henrik confirms, laughing once. “I can’t exactly see when I wipe my ass. That’s where the bidet comes in.”
“Huh,” I answer, biting my tongue to stop myself from asking more questions. Admittedly, I’m infinitely curious about this man and his life.
Henrik washes off his face, the foamy suds swirling down the drain as he drags his hand overtop his chin and cheeks, checking, I presume, for missed spots. “Not running?” he asks.
“What do you mean?” I reply, dragging my eyes away from his smooth skin.
He grabs a towel and pats himself dry, and then he swivels on the low stool. I try not to let my eyes drop to his crotch, I really do, but damn. “I just told you about my toilet habits. I figured that may have scared you off.”
I laugh, kicking off from the wall and stepping forward. “Henrik, if I were afraid of the intimate details of backdoor plumbing, I wouldn’t have lasted a day in my profession.”
Henrik huffs a breath out of his nose. “Fair enough.”
“I’m not running,” I make sure to add, stepping close and trailing my fingers through Henrik’s dark brown hair. He leans his head back, face tilted up toward me, eyes closed. His chin bumps into my abdomen, and Henrik’s eyes open, so endlessly green. So bright.
And then his stomach rumbles, and I laugh.
“C’mon. Tacos.”
“Tacos,” Henrik repeats, dropping his head and pressing his closed lips against my stomach. I freeze, as does Henrik. But then he leans back, displacing my hands from his hair. “Feed me, Mal. I’m wasting away.”
Henrik grabs his shirt and walks off. Chuckling, and more than a little flushed, I follow.