Epilogue
EPILOGUE
brIGHT IDEAS
Zane
Four months later
Five more minutes. It’s a lifetime. I’m wearing a tread in the floor of the airport. “C’mon, Maddox,” I mutter.
I stare at the time again. Then the arrivals sign above the turnstiles. Then his last text.
Just got off the plane. Keep your cock in your pants.
Then mine. It’s already out. We’re both excited to see you.
Another one lands. Behave.
Peering around security, hunting for his gorgeous face but not finding him, I reply. That’s impossible. Prepare to be ambushed.
My phone pings. Almost there. I can see you. Damn, you did miss me.
I look up from my phone, and I grin. There he is. A bag slung over his shoulder. A wicked grin on his face. Eyes only for me. I’m so jazzed to see him. I’ve got something on my mind, and I can’t wait to share it with him.
But first, I need a reunion kiss.
My man strides past security and right into my welcoming arms.
I haul him in for a big embrace. “You were in New York forever,” I say, since that’s how long his three-day trip felt. Then I plunder his mouth. “Mmm,” I murmur as I kiss him deeply.
When I break it, I glance down at my growing erection. “Oops, I’m indecent.”
“You always are,” Maddox says, then I take his hand, and we exit the San Francisco airport together.
Once we’re on the road, heading back to my place, I pepper him with questions. “How were your meetings?”
“Great,” he says, enthused. “I had dinner with Adriana and played pool with her. She loves working with you.”
Adriana finalized a deal for me to do some spots for a podcast network, hawking some of my favorite comedians. “She’s almost as good as you,” I say.
“And Crosby’s new partnership is kicking into high gear. Plus, I spent some time with Tanner. He’s got a good head on his shoulders.”
“He sure does. That dude is passionate,” I say. “I’m glad you got him.”
“Me too,” Maddox says.
My boyfriend is a badass agent running his solo shop. He brought over Carter from the Renegades, along with Drew Adams from the Mercenaries, and Crosby Cash from the Cougars. And he signed a couple of hockey players, a tennis star, Trace from the Devils, Tanner from the Comets, and Sutton from the Storm Chasers.
Among others.
I’m so stinking proud of him. He works tirelessly. But he plays just as hard too. When we get to my home in Hayes Valley, he makes a show of sending out one of his famous text messages, letting the crew know he’s unavailable.
He never says why.
No one asks.
But we’re not shy in public. I make my affections for him known, loud and clear. And I suppose the caveman in me secretly hopes all his clients assume when he’s unavailable that he’s getting it good from the man he loves.
Once inside my place, I grab him, manhandle him against the wall, then growl, “Gonna have my way with you tonight.”
“Like you always do.”
Fifteen minutes later, I’m balls deep in my boyfriend, while he’s bent over the kitchen counter, his belt tying his hands together. I grip his ass, snap my hips, and take him hard.
“Fucking missed you,” I mutter.
“Missed you too,” he groans.
“Can’t stand being apart from you,” I say on a punishing thrust.
“I hate it too,” he mutters on a guttural groan.
I cover his body with mine, bite his neck, and pound him. “Then move in with me,” I blurt out.
And…I didn’t mean to say that during sex. But maybe it’s fitting.
He’s quiet, just grunting as I nail him. “Mad, say something,” I say, a little worried.
“You mean it?” he asks, then his voice turns into a long, low groan. “Fuck, I need to come.”
That gives me an idea. I grip his cock hard, staving off his release.
Then, I untie his hands, ease out, and spin him around. I lift him up on the edge of the counter and fill him once more.
I drive into him, jerk him till he’s coming all over his abs. Pleasure coils inside me, and I’m this close, so I pull out, jerk hard two, three times, then finish on him too, my whole body shaking.
We’re both panting, gasping for breath, and a mess and a half. But I ask again, “Can you move to San Francisco? The food here is just as good as the food in LA, and as for the people in the neighborhood?” I gesture to my chest. “It’s safe to say they’re coming ahead.”
He groans, and I laugh, then turn serious.
“You’re always traveling anyway. If you’re here, we can see each other more?” My voice pitches upward with hope.
Please say yes.
He smiles like he’s up to something. “Zane, I was going to ask you the same question this weekend—whether you wanted me to move in with you.”
I dive in for a joyful kiss. But when I break away, I get a better idea. “Let’s get a new place. Together. One we both pick out.”
“Yes,” he says. “It’s always yes with you.”
We spend the weekend screwing, and sucking, and eating, and shopping. And we see friends — old and new. Turns out Maddox is buddies with Declan, so we have dinner with Declan and Grant, catching up on their plans to head to Hawaii in the off-season. “Hawaii is my favorite place,” Declan says over sashimi.
Grant’s eyes twinkle, and it sure looks like it’s a special place for them. “Mine too, babe,” he says, then smacks a kiss to his husband’s cheek.
On Sunday morning, we go to a coffee shop around the corner — iced tea for me — where we run into Jason McKay, the quarterback for the San Francisco Hawks. He’s ordering a mango smoothie and a cup of black coffee. As he waits for the drinks he catches my eye, and tips his chin toward us. “Zane. What is up?” He asks, then gives a fist knock as I join him.
“My life. It’s up, up, up,” I say, then clap Maddox on the shoulder. “My guy’s moving in with me. You know Maddox LeGrande, right?”
Jason extends a hand and shakes. “Heard of you. All good things. Good to meet you officially.”
“Pleasure to meet you,” Maddox says as he shakes Jason’s hand. “You’ve having a helluva season.”
The affable quarterback smiles. “I do my best.”
“Keep that up,” Maddox says and when the barista serves Jason’s drinks, the quarterback thanks him then says to us, “Better bring this cup of Joe to my dude before the coffee cools off. But why don’t you two come to my next home game? Would love to host you.”
“I’d love to go,” Maddox says.
“Absolutely,” I chime in.
Once Jason is gone, I wrap an arm around Maddox. “See? We already have friends here.”
“We do,” he says, and he smiles. Fuck, I love that smile, and I love putting it there.
I do my damndest to make him smile more the rest of the weekend.
Baseball season’s over, I collected my winnings from Gunnar since I finished the year with more RBIs, so when the weekend ends, I fly with Maddox to Los Angeles to help him start packing—though he doesn’t have much. I’ll miss his pool, but I won’t miss being apart from him. “Will you miss your friends here? Like Ellie and Bryan and the whole crew?” I ask, as I help him sort through his kitchen.
“I will. But I’ll visit Los Angeles for work, so I’ll see them then,” he says then checks his watch. “And we’ll go spend some time with Bryan now for lunch.”
“Can we scooter?”
He snort-laughs. “Knew you’d like scooters.”
He pulls his out of the garage, and I rent one since they’re all over the streets, then we ride to Santa Monica and meet his buddy for lunch at a sidewalk café.
“Can’t say I’m shocked he’s moving to San Francisco. Did I or did I not predict you were getting ready for a date the first day you spent with Zane down here?” Bryan asks, needling Maddox.
“Oh, this is gonna be good. Tell me more,” I say.
“He was shaving, and he always shaves right before a date,” Bryan recounts.
Maddox rolls his eyes, but he’s smiling too as he mutters, “Why do you do this to me?”
Bryan smacks Maddox’s shoulder affectionately. “Pretty sure Zane knows you dig him now.”
I beckon with my fingers. “Nope. I want more. I want all the goods, Bryan.”
Bryan sits back in his chair, smiles, and says, “I like you. You’re good for him. That’s the goods.”
“I’ll take it,” I say, then I press a kiss to my guy’s clean-shaven jaw. “I know you always shave for me, and I love it.”
“Me too,” Maddox answers softly.
The next night, we head out to dinner in Venice, and when we grab a table at the restaurant, Maddox does a double take. “That’s Braxton at the bar,” he whispers.
“Jackass,” I say, putting two and two together to figure he was the guy who wanted Maddox to be at his beck and call.
Maddox turns to me, a thoughtful look in his eyes. “He called me the other day. Said he wanted to meet.”
“Do you want to meet with him?”
Maddox shrugs. “He has this jackass friend who kinda makes all his decisions?—”
“Shhh,” I warn, since Braxton just got up and is walking over to us now.
“Hey, there,” he says, looking a little sheepish.
Maddox stands, shakes his hand, ever polite. “Good to see you again. This is my boyfriend, Zane Archer.”
Braxton gives a chin nod and a smile. “Big fan. Great season.”
“Thanks, man,” I say.
Then Maddox asks, “How’s everything?”
Braxton sighs but nods a few times. “It’s…okay. Ronan and I broke up.”
Maddox blinks. “Oh.” He takes a beat. “As…friends?”
Braxton shakes his head. “As…everything. He and I had been together for a while. And I let him rep me. He’s the one who did the deal with Miami.”
Some kind of realization dawns in Maddox’s eyes. “I’m sorry to hear that. About the split.”
“Yeah, me too.” He sounds sad about it still, but then he squares his shoulders and says, “Listen, I don’t want to interrupt. But you were…right. About everything. And I was wrong to listen to him. I don’t want to ruin your dinner, but I’d love to chat with you.”
“I’ll reach out tomorrow,” Maddox says.
Braxton leaves and Maddox mouths wow .
“That just got a whole lot more interesting,” I say.
“You’re telling me,” he says, then adds that since Braxton never signed with CTM, he wouldn’t be poaching him, but we don’t talk about Braxton anymore. We talk about us and our plans—his move to San Francisco, and the plays we can see, the sports we can go to, the trips we can take.
“I want to take you to London over Christmas,” Maddox says.
“Take me there,” I say, beaming.
But first, I take him to bed, and then a month later, we move into a new place in San Francisco, together at last.
Coming home from work is going to be fifty million times better with Maddox here with me.