Chapter 28
Zeke
“Hey, Talon? I think you passed the short-term parking lot,” I tell my boyfriend, glancing out the window as the sign for the lot passes us by.
“I did,” he confirms with a smile.
“Isn’t that where we’re going?” I ask, totally confused.
I’ve never been to an airport. Never been on a plane, to a different state, or in a different time zone. There are a lot of firsts coming up for me.
“Nope,” he says, popping the P as he continues to drive deeper into the airport until finally taking the turn for private aviation.
His answer makes me pull my gaze from the window and aim it at his face.
“Ohmygod. You own a plane?” I utter in disbelief.
“Four of them, actually,” he says with a wink.
Talon parks directly on the tarmac and tosses the keys to one of the guys from the Ricochet Ridge security team before climbing out.
Meanwhile, I open the back door of the SUV and reach for my bag when a man in a suit stops me.
“Just leave that, Mr. Hastings. I’ll take care of it.”
“Oh, uh, I don’t mind,” I tell the man, uncomfortable with someone else doing things for me.
Talon holds his hand out to me.
“Come on, let me show you around. They’ll take care of the bags.”
I’m torn, but only for a moment, and then I’m slipping my hand into Talon’s.
As we climb the stairs to the small jet, we’re greeted by a very pretty brunette with long legs and a friendly smile.
“Mr. Hastings, Mr. Devereaux, welcome aboard. May I serve you anything to drink while the captain and first officer complete their pre-boarding checklist?”
I look up at Talon, waiting for direction. I have no idea what the proper etiquette is here. I suppose this lifestyle takes some getting used to.
“Order anything you’d like,” he says. “We have a fully stocked bar onboard. There’s soda, juice, coffee, tea, and water as well.”
“But what are you having?” I ask in a tone I haven’t heard from myself in a while. The one that says I’m afraid of making the wrong choice. I hate it.
Looking at the flight attendant, Talon simply says, “I’ll have whatever he’s having.”
“Great, now I have to guess what you want,” I mumble next to him, annoyed with myself and frustrated that he wouldn’t just tell me what to pick.
Talon places his hand at the small of my back.
“No, baby, I want you to pick what you want. This trip isn’t about me trying to get you to conform to my life or my wishes.
It’s about experiencing it together and finding out who you want to be now that you have the freedom to choose.
And you get to choose everything. Starting with what you want to drink before takeoff. ”
“Just water, please,” I tell the flight attendant, feeling ashamed that my nerves got the best of me. I really hope that doesn’t happen in front of Talon’s family. “Sorry,” I tell him.
“No need to apologize. I know this is going to be a lot, but just like always, communicate with me, okay?”
I nod. “If I’m going to be completely honest, I’m a little nervous to fly. I mean, I’m excited, but I’ve never done it, you know?”
“I do. We’re in good hands. I’ve flown with these guys for years. In fact, they’re the ones who brought me out here.”
Oddly, that makes me feel a little better, but what settles me the most is when Talon takes the seat next to me and his warm hand slips under my shirt to rub my back.
“Is this okay?” he asks, whispering the question that has become second nature to him in my ear as the engines grow louder and we begin to move.
“Yes.”
Part of me wants to bury my head in his lap and not come up for air until we’re in New York, but like always, Talon makes me want to face my fears because that’s where growth is found, and that’s what he deserves from me.
For some reason, whether it be some major glitch in the matrix or a tear in the fabric of fate, this man has chosen me. He wants me. He’s taking me home to his family; meanwhile, he doesn’t know that he’s become mine.
So, I sit up straight and force myself to look out the window as we lift into the air.
And I thought the view from Summit was breathtaking.
A couple of hours later, we’re descending, and while I can’t say landings are my favorite, the flight itself was pretty incredible.
Our plane comes to a stop at the hangar, and I notice there’s a car already waiting for us.
It’s another sleek black SUV, similar to the one we drove to the airport back in Ricochet Ridge, and another man in a suit opens my door.
I smile and say thank you, but he says nothing as he stoically looks ahead.
“I’m not supposed to talk to them, am I?” I ask Talon as I get settled in the backseat. There’s a divider between us and the driver, like I’ve seen in movies, but it’s trippy to see it in real life.
He chuckles. “You certainly can. Most clients don’t, though.”
“I’m afraid I’m going to do something really stupid or say something offensive and accidentally embarrass you,” I admit for the sake of our agreement to communicate clearly.
“Hey,” Talon says, cupping my face when I turn to look at him.
“We’re all just people doing the best we can.
If you’re ever uncomfortable, let me know, and we’ll leave; no questions asked.
As long as you’re you, you could never embarrass me, especially not by being polite or simply having a conversation. ”
I nod, unsure how to answer.
As we get closer to the heart of the city, my mouth falls open as my greedy eyes attempt to take in every building we pass. You can look at pictures, but there’s no way you can grasp the architecture, the height, the detail, the colors, or even the sheer number of them from photographs.
“This is…wow,” I breathe, craning my neck as I continue looking up at the structures that surround us.
“A lot of people find it overwhelming, but to me, it’s home,” Talon says, a peacefulness in his voice that wasn’t there in Montana. It’s not until it’s gone that I realize the edge was there in the first place.
Home.
The place he’ll return to when his time at Ricochet is up.
It’s not something we’ve discussed.
Perhaps we should have before now because I’m getting more attached with each passing day. I adore Eloise and am looking forward to meeting the rest of his family, and I know if things between Talon and me don’t work out, I’ll likely never recover from the loss.
But I force the thought from my mind and attempt to focus on the here and now and soak up New York City. My dreams were drowned by that one traumatic night when the stage went from being my escape to my personal hell, but I feel it calling to me again in this place.
Time, physical distance, and Talon’s presence seem to be quite the trifecta of healing.
Talon spends the drive answering texts and emails while I continue processing the sights before me.
The traffic is unreal. I’ve never seen anything like it, and people crowd together on the sidewalks, making them just as congested as the streets.
Everyone seems to be in a hurry or in their own world, but also hyperaware of those around them, and the city moves together as though everyone is part of the same body.
I feel the pulse of the population, the heartbeat of the city. With each block we travel, I’m dying to get out of the car and let my feet feel the pavement of these streets.
It takes forty-six minutes to travel roughly thirteen miles, and then the car is… stopping, basically in the middle of the street. My door opens, and I eagerly step out. Talon slides to my side and follows me, our bags already waiting on the curb.
Tilting my head back, I look up, but can’t even see the top of the building because I’m standing too close.
“Is this your office?” I ask stupidly.
Talon smiles. “It’s my home.”
He places my duffel bag on top of his rolling suitcase, grabs the handle, and puts his other hand at the small of my back, guiding me forward toward the revolving door.
A man in the lobby smiles at Talon.
“Mr. Devereaux, welcome home.”
“Steve, good to see you.” Nodding at me, Talon says, “Steve, this is my boyfriend, Zeke. Zeke, Steve is the most incredible doorman in the state of New York. If you forget the code, need directions, or a cab, Steve is your man.”
It’s still so fucking surreal, hearing Talon call me his boyfriend. I’m not sure I’ll ever get used to it.
“It’s nice to meet you,” I tell the man with a smile.
“You too, Mr. Zeke.”
There’s a front desk in the lobby, as if this were a hotel, and Talon leads me to it.
“Mr. Devereaux! Welcome home,” a flamboyant man in a beautiful scarf says as he leans across the counter to air-kiss Talon’s cheeks.
“André, always a pleasure.”
“Your sister has been in and out quite a bit. I wouldn’t be surprised if she redecorated your entire space while you were gone,” he says in an accent that might be French.
“Neither would I,” Talon laughs and then dives into more introductions. “André, this is my boyfriend, Zeke Hastings. He’s to have full access to my penthouse.” He rattles off my phone number to the man and then looks at me. “What do you want your four-digit lock code to be?”
Smiling, I answer, “zero-nine-one-five.”
He smiles back at me before kissing my cheek. “That might be kind of obvious, but we’ll go with it for now.”
As André sets up my code to Talon’s penthouse—Dear God, I’m so far out of my element here—he asks in a mildly pouty tone, “Mr. Devereaux, how have I known you for six years and never known…this?” He waves a hand toward me, clearly indicating that I’m a guy.
A lighthearted laugh rips through Talon’s throat.
“If it makes you feel any better, I’ve known me for thirty-two years, and I just found out myself.”
André looks at me and purses his lips with a sigh.
“I don’t know how you did it, but I can tell you every single man and woman, and probably a fair number of married people, in New York will all be crying when this hits the news. Mr. Christian is our most dreamy bachelor.”
“Oh, stop,” Talon says.
“It’s true,” André says with a shrug before turning back to me. “And you’re all set. If you have any problems, just swing back by the front desk. On second thought, swing back by anyway. I have questions,” he says with a wink.
“Thank you, André. He won’t be back by,” Talon says, making me laugh as we move toward the elevators.
Inside, there is no button labeled PH like I thought there would be. Instead, Talon hits the button for the twenty-second floor and then types in his own code. A star with a button lights up in the bottom corner.
“It’s like trying to gain access to Fort Knox,” I muse.
Talon’s hands land on my waist as he gently pushes me backward until I’m up against the back wall of the elevator.
Nuzzling my neck, he says, “But better because once I type in that code, this elevator won’t stop until it reaches my penthouse.
” Then he licks his way up my neck, causing me to shiver.
Talon is freer here, and I feel it in myself as well.
Derek can’t reach me here.
New York belongs to Talon and me.
And fuck, that feels good.
It gives me hope that perhaps I can lose the chains of guilt and shame that have kept me bound for so long.
Talon brings his mouth to mine in a kiss that is needy, desperate, and hungry in a way it hasn’t been before.
Gripping my hair at the roots, his nostrils flare from breathing so hard as he plants his forehead against mine.
“I want you so fucking much,” he says against my lips. “I want you in my bed, not some rental. In my sheets. In my home. I want to make you breakfast in my kitchen after bathing you in my shower, and I want you to see my city. Our city,” he corrects. “You belong here. With me.”
The conviction in his voice has my eyes burning and my throat tight.
I’m saved from having to answer by the ding of the bell and the doors opening into a large foyer with glass-paned double doors on one end. I expected the doors to be solid, maybe with a peephole. These look like front doors you’d see on a house in suburbia, and I’m totally caught off guard.
Talon grabs the handle of his suitcase, mine still on top, and takes me by the hand.
“Welcome home, baby.”