Chapter 9
LUCAS
We’d walked to Ezra’s studio and saw no sign of Tate, so he worked on the images he’d taken for the hockey calendar.
Standing behind him, I pulled his hair behind his shoulders as he adjusted a photo of Evan.
“What’s that?” I pointed to a square pad on his desk with a bunch of buttons and a round trackpad centering it.
Now that I’d kissed him, I couldn’t stop touching him. I wanted more.
“It’s called a Loupedeck CT. It gives me shortcut buttons for my editing software and lets me fine tune colors easier than using a regular mouse.” He leaned in closer to his large monitor.
“Okay.” Wow, he knew his shit. He earned his living that way. “What’s on your schedule for next week?” I rested my hands on his shoulders. Was I distracting him?
“I have a wedding to shoot on location and some family photos here in the studio. Otherwise, I’ll be editing.” He narrowed his eyes, focusing his curser on Evan’s chin mole. “Do you think I should remove this?”
“No, keep it. He’s proud of that mole.” Evan wasn’t, but fuck it. No one would notice it, anyway. I wouldn’t mention my anxiety at Ezra being here alone next week. I tensed my mouth. No, I’d wait and see how it went today.
“Proud, huh?” Shaking his head, he clicked, and the mole disappeared. “I know you hockey guys like to fuck with each other.”
“No, really?” Scoffing a laugh, I left him and strolled to one of the makeup chairs. Maybe he’d been right about me getting bored. Fuck it, I could doom scroll for a while.
A few hours and way too many reels later, pounding pierced the studio. “Ezra? I know you’re in there. Let me in,” Tate yelled.
“Fuck.” With my pulse skyrocketing, I jumped from the chair. “I’ll handle this.” I stomped toward the door.
Ezra raced to me, slapping his palm on my chest. “No, just be quiet. He’ll leave eventually.” As rapping came again, he glanced behind him. “Believe me.”
Fisting my hands, I tightened my jaw. Fuck, I had to listen to him. “Okay.” How long before Tate stopped?
“Ezra? Come on. Open up,” Tate’s voice snaked through the door.
With his gaze firm, Ezra shook his head.
I nodded and huffed a sigh. Listening to Tate’s bullshit would suck. In a whisper, I said, “How much longer?” And at some point, I needed to get some lunch.
“Another couple of hours.” He dropped his hand. “I’m sorry about this. I was hoping he wouldn’t show. It was stupid of me. I should know better.” He dipped his head.
“No, you were hopeful, is all.” I wrapped my arms around his shoulders and drew him into my chest, kissing his hair. It felt completely natural to kiss him now. No different from when I’d been with women.
He swung his arms around my waist, leaning against me and burying his face in my neck.
“Ezra! Get the fuck out here!” The pounding grew harder. “I’ll find a way in. I can promise you that. The hockey playing bastard better not be in there with you.”
Ezra startled in my hold.
Heat burned inside me. Fuck him. I’d pound his ass—
“I’m sorry, Lucas. Don’t listen.” He pushed off me, cupped my cheek and planted a hard kiss on my mouth. “Don’t listen.” His gaze locked on mine. “Okay?”
“I’ll…fuck, okay.” How could I turn him down? He was irresistible, especially when he kissed me. Fuck, I was in deep.
“Ezra, did you get my flowers, baby?” Tate asked through the door.
“Are you okay?” I whispered. It couldn’t be easy for him to hear this.
“I’m fine.” He released me, rubbed his brow, and ambled to his desk. “I have noise cancelling headphones here.” He peeked at me as he opened a drawer. “Do you mind?”
“Absolutely not.” With a smirk, I made my way back to the makeup chair. Now I’d worry less about Ezra. I could handle Tate’s shit.
“Come on, Ezra. I love you,” Tate said.
Heat inflamed me and my body tensed. Okay, maybe that was a little much to hear.
With a wince, Ezra set his headphones on his head, sank into his desk chair and soft clicking resumed as he worked.
“I know you love me too, Ezra. You said so just last night,” Tate said. “Please, let me in.”
I glared at the door. Was that real? No fucking way. I gritted my teeth as pain cut through my heart.
Murmuring snaked through the door, followed by silence.
Did the fucker finally leave? I gazed around the studio as my stomach growled. Good, I’d wait an hour and go grab us some lunch. And I would not question Ezra about his feelings for Tate. Even if he told Tate he loved him last night, it was probably to avoid being hurt by the fucker.
The door remained silent for about an hour. I rose and strolled to Ezra, clicking and adjusting images like he was in his own little world. “Hey.” I squeezed his shoulder.
“Huh?” He snapped his gaze to me. “Oh.” He lifted the headphones off his head. “Did it stop?”
“It did. Not too long after you put your headphones on.” But not before the love shit. My gut clenched. Nope, don’t mention it. “I need to eat. I can go grab us something?”
“You think it’s safe?” He eyed the door, his eyes wide. “What if he’s out there?”
“Then he’s out there and I’ll deal with him. Lock the door after I leave.” I planted my hands on my hips. At this point, I’d welcome a showdown.
He scrunched his face. “I don’t know if I—”
“I’ll be fine, Ezra. Do you have any idea how many fist fights I’ve been in?” Though most of them were on the ice. I offered a sly smile.
He scoffed. “Fine.” After standing, we walked to the door, and he turned his back against it. “Be careful.” He grabbed my t-shirt collar and yanked me to him, our lips crushing together.
Heat seared over my skin, and I hooked my arms around his waist, my plumping cock brushing his through our shorts. Slanting my mouth, I snuck my tongue between his lips and tangled it with his. Holy fuck, I craved him more with each kiss.
He broke the kisses, panting. “Shit, I was only giving you a be-safe kiss.” With a dimpled smirk, his darkened gaze found mine. He skimmed his fingers along my jaw.
Warmth spread across my chest. “I love it when you smile, Ezra.” And he smiled more and more, now that he wasn’t with Tate.
“You said that.” He dipped his head. “You make me want to smile. Hell, you make me want to dance in the rain.” He glanced at the door. “If it ever rained out here.” A sharp chuckle sprang from him.
“I’d like to see that.” As I gave him a gentle kiss, the warmth in my chest sprawled all the way to my toes. I couldn’t wait for later.
“Yeah, okay. Now go.” He pushed my chest. “And be careful.” His brows wrinkled. “Text me to let me know if he’s still out there.” He stepped to the side.
“I will.” I unlocked and snuck the door open a crack. Nothing. I inched open the door for a peek. No sign of Tate. “What kind of car does he drive?” It would help if I could look for it.
“A black Mercedes sedan. I don’t know what the model is. The way they name those cars always confuses me.” He held his palms together over his mouth, focusing on me.
Scanning the parking lot, I said, “I don’t see one out there.” Could we be so lucky? “I’m leaving now. Lock the door behind me.”
“Okay.” He furrowed his brows. “Please, be careful.”
“I will.” As my pulse raged, I stepped outside and shut the door.
Taking a calming breath, I lifted my chin and looked around.
Shit, we hadn’t talked about where I should go or what he wanted.
We’d been too busy kissing. As a smile swept my lips, I slid my phone from my pocket and texted him while strolling to the sidewalk.
Lucas
Tate left. Where should I go and what do you want?
Ezra
There’s a Subway around the corner. I don’t want you going to the coffee shop. Tate might expect us there. Can you please get me a meatball sub?
My smile widened. He was a meatball sub guy. Good to know.
Lucas
Sure. Be back soon. I’ll text when I’m back, so you know it’s not Tate.
As I spied the Subway shop centered in a long plaza, I twisted my lips. I wouldn’t yell at the door like Tate had. Fuck that. Ezra didn’t need to be reminded of it.
Approaching the door to the shop, I took in a long line of people stretched from the counter. “Fuck.” This might take some time. I could call Mason while I waited. I texted Ezra.
Lucas
It’s busy, so it’ll take a while.
Ezra
Okay.
As I stepped inside and stood at the back of the line, I called Mason.
The line rang once and picked up. “Bro, to what do I owe the pleasure?”
“Hey, I need to talk to you about something.” I glanced at the line—some guys in paint-stained clothing and mothers with kids. Maybe I should take this outside. “Hold on.” I strode through the door and under the plaza’s overhang, leaning my back against the building’s beige stucco.
“What’s up?” Mason asked.
“I…fuck, you were right. I like the photographer.” I braced myself.
“Ho-ly fucking shit. My little brother’s queer?” He cackled. “Did you hear that, Jett? My little bro’s a chip off the old block.”
“He’s not your son, babe. That term is reserved for a father and son.” Jett snickered in the background.
Shit, was I on speaker? What the hell. It didn’t matter. Jett might have better advice than Mason, anyway. “I have serious shit to talk about.” But where to start?
“I’m sure you do,” Mason said in a serious tone. “What do you want to know?”
“Things are pretty complicated. Remember the asshole boyfriend he had?” I crossed my ankles and watched the cars drive by under the afternoon sunshine.
“Yeah. I’ll assume he broke up with the guy or has plans to. It’s not cool to cheat,” Mason said.
“He broke up with him last night. He said he’s not sure if he ever loved him and he’s over him.” My chest twinged. Would Mason see what I couldn’t? I’d been pretty blinded by lust over the last few days.
“Tell me exactly what happened.”
“Ezra had been wanting to end things with him, so last night at dinner, he finally broke up with him. But not before the asshole pulled his hair and caused a scene.” I clenched my free hand into a fist. It still pissed me off. Who does shit like that?
“Pulled his hair?”