Chapter Nine
Wesley registered the approaching wail of sirens and took a breath.
The Plattsmouth Police patrol car pulled to a stop across the end of the gravel driveway, blocking both cars in as if either of them were planning to take off. The officers exited their vehicle, and Wesley groaned.
“What?” asked Nate softly.
“Officer Bennett. His son was in my class last year,” replied Wesley in a low tone before exiting the car.
“Mr. Byerly, I understand you’ve had a bit of trouble.” Officer Bennett eyed Wesley’s battered and bruised face and then glanced in Nate’s direction.
“Yes, sir, Officer Bennett. I’ve been gone since the day before yesterday, and my house was likely broken into sometime after one a.m. yesterday morning.”
“That’s quite specific, Mr. Byerly. Does the break-in have any correlation to why your face looks like you went a round or two in the boxing ring?” asked the other officer.
Wesley’s face heated, and he winced at the resulting ache.
“This is Officer Savard,” said Officer Bennett.
“Probably, Officer Savard,” Wesley said with a nod.
Did he mention the thumb drive and its role in all of this?
Should he? Yes, he should. But doing so meant putting his job in jeopardy, and he wasn’t ready to take that chance.
Revealing the incident in the parking lot might also drag Nate’s presence at the club into the report.
That aspect of the situation wasn’t Wesley’s to share.
So, no. He wasn’t mentioning it. Not now, not ever.
Savard waved toward Wesley’s single wide. “I’m going to walk through your home and make sure it’s clear. Have you been inside? Disturbed anything?”
“No, sir,” Nate replied. “As soon as we saw the open door, we called 9-1-1.”
“Do I know you?” Officer Savard asked, eyeing Nate.
Wesley held his breath. It was bad enough Nate was going to be on this police report.
It would be worse if the officers realized who he was before the case was filed away.
He should have sent Nate home. A pang of guilt for involving him skittered through Wesley, but an overwhelming sense of exhaustion had already crept up on him.
“No, sir. We haven’t met. I’m new to town.”
Officer Savard harrumphed but, with a hand on his weapon, headed for the front door.
“Once Savard finishes, we can go inside and sit down, and you can give me the rundown.”
A few minutes later, Officer Savard clomped onto the small square front deck. “All clear. A back window was jimmied open.”
* * * * *
The officers left the trailer with a promise to call when the processing was done, and Wesley dropped his head into his hands.
What the hell was going on? He could no longer ignore the issue of the thumb drive.
Whatever was on it must be dangerous or incriminating or something.
But he’d never ever even seen a thumb drive that didn’t belong to him—how could he have it?
What the heck was he supposed to do about the request to turn it over?
In the meantime, the start of the school year was three and a half weeks away, and he had to be ready. Had to get in the last of his training, had to finalize his lesson plans. Had to sort all the worksheets he’d printed and then trim everything he’d laminated last week.
With a deep breath, he slapped his hands to his knees, rising.
“I’m gonna pack up some stuff and stay at the hotel up on the highway until they’ve finished processing my place.
” He held out a hand to Nate. “I really appreciate everything you’ve done.
I’ll owe you until the moon turns green.
Don’t be a stranger once the season starts.
If you want to come down for a home cooked meal or meet somewhere in between to grab a bite to eat, just shoot me a text. ”
Nate stood and swatted his hand away, color high on his cheeks, blue eyes a bit buggy. “Are you kidding me right now?”
Wesley bristled. Nate had been nothing but kind and amiable the whole time they’d known each other.
A little aloof that first night in the club, which was understandable, all things considered.
But now, angry vibes filled the space between them.
But with all the crap he was dealing with, he didn’t have the patience to put up with Nate’s anger. Wesley could be angry, too.
“No. I’m not kidding. I have no desire to involve you in whatever’s going on. It’s not your problem. It’s mine. And I’m not going to be your problem any longer.”
“You’re not staying at some fucking hotel off the fucking highway. If they could find you here, they can find you there. Pack up whatever you need. You’re staying with me for the foreseeable future.”
A bubble of laughter wanted to burst out of Wesley. He swiped a hand down his face to hide whatever it looked like as a result. Nate was definitely indignant and wouldn’t appreciate his amusement.
But then Wesley sobered. He was in danger.
He realized that now. And the threat wasn’t going away.
He certainly wasn’t going to allow Nate to inveigle himself and end up a target.
“Look, Nate, again, I appreciate everything you’ve done for me.
I do. We’ve already established that I can’t ever repay you for that.
But I can’t keep racking up this debt. And I certainly don’t intend to put you or your secret in jeopardy.
Besides, I’ve got a life; you’ve got a life. And—”
Nate yanked him forward by the upper arms and covered Wesley’s mouth with his own.
Then Nate released his arms and cupped his head all without breaking the kiss.
He cocked his head and swiped a tongue across Wesley’s lips.
Wesley parted them immediately. His arms twined Nate’s neck as Nate devoured his mouth, tongue curling around his in a kiss so thorough he probably wouldn’t need to see his dentist anytime soon.
Heart pounding and knees weak, Wesley absorbed every moment of closeness and passion Nate poured into him.
When the kiss ended, Wesley resisted the urge to lick and touch his now-buzzing lips.
He was breathless and light-headed and ready to drag Nate off to bed, but that didn’t change matters.
Nate was now in the crosshairs just by being associated with him.
And even if that wasn’t the case, as soon as Nate experienced the real Wesley, he’d want nothing to do with him.
Nate blinked, his mouth parting slightly, as if he were about to say something—only to close it again and step back.
Wesley’s stomach dropped. What was that? Second thoughts? A moment of realization? Of course.
The real Wesley wasn’t the confident Dom persona Nate was most familiar with.
The real Wesley chafed in traditionally masculine clothing ensembles.
He preferred wearing soft things, colorful things.
Clothing that could be categorized as feminine.
He spent so much time putting on a show of being a “normal” man, gay or otherwise, that when he was alone, he just wanted to let his femme flag flap in the breeze.
As a matter of fact, he very much wanted to pull on his favorite white cotton gown and hunker down with a bag of powdered donuts and some hot cocoa—summer heat be damned—but he couldn’t do that if he went home with Nate.
The sooner they parted ways for good, the better off they’d both be. Wesley wouldn’t be rejected, and Nate wouldn’t get dragged into a mess that wasn’t his to deal with.
“Look…” He cleared his raspy throat. “I appreciate the offer, but whatever’s going on, I don’t want you to get dragged into it and end up on the news again.”
Nate huffed. Raked a hand through his messy pearl blond hair.
“I appreciate your concern. But you don’t know what’s on that thumb drive or what those guys are involved in.
At least, at my place, they can’t get into the building without a keycard and even if they did, they won’t know which unit’s mine.
It would take them a while to reach the twelfth floor and hopefully, by then, someone would have called security.
” Nate stuck out his bottom lip. “Please?”
Wesley’s heart fluttered with delight. Damn Nate’s charming self.
Taking Nate up on his offer was a bad idea.
He knew it. He should send Nate home, find a cheap hotel with lukewarm water and a lumpy mattress, and remind himself why being alone was better.
Going with Nate put Wesley in danger, too.
Going with him meant exposing everything he’d spent years hiding—things far worse than the threat.
But instead of saying no and sending Nate on his way, he let out a hiccupping laugh, as his will toppled like a pillow fort.
After that kiss, after that plea and the pouty face, how could he resist an opportunity to play house until the structure collapsed?
He held up his hands in surrender. “Okay, okay. You win.
“Wait. This puts you in danger.” Wesley pulled his cell phone out of a pocket. “God forbid something happens—who should I contact in case of emergency?”
“Start with my agent…Wade Latham.”
Nate pulled out his own cell and read off Wade’s number. “Now, what can I do to help?”
* * * * *
Leaving Nate to haul piles of laminated bulletin board decorations, boxes of printables, and office supplies to his car, Wesley plodded down the wood-paneled hall to his room to pack.
The disaster of the day had caught up with him now that the adrenaline had begun to ebb.
The ache of every bruise had returned ten-fold.
First order of business was tossing back three naproxen.
He came to a halt in the doorway of his room and gasped. His haven looked as though a tornado had blown through. Tears prickled the corners of his eyes.
Wesley’s queen bed was a pile of sheets and blankets. His pillows lay scattered across the floor. Drawers hung open and clothes littered the old taupe-colored indoor-outdoor carpet that had seen better days. Even the pictures on the wall hung crookedly.
The storage containers that had lined the shelves of his closet were scattered across the carpet, their contents, shoes mostly, but also underthings... His stomach churned. If Nate saw any of this, he’d re-think his invitation.
The sound of Nate’s firm footsteps ebbed and flowed in the distance via the thin mobile home walls.
Wait—that’s what Wesley wanted, right? He didn’t want to put Nate in harm’s way.
More than he already had anyway. Either way, he needed a suitcase and went into the tiny second bedroom to dig his bag out of an equally miniscule closet.
That room was a mess, too. He sighed. Another wave of weariness washed over him, and he returned to the master bedroom.
He’d just opened the large bright blue, soft-sided duffle bag on wheels when Nate’s heavy footfalls came to a halt.
“Okay, your school stuff is in my—Jesus. They weren’t messing around, were they?” Shock flickered across Nate’s face—or was that disgust?
Heat crawled up Wesley’s neck. Didn’t matter. Wesley took a breath. Time to warn Nate off once and for all. “No.”
Nate ambled in and bent to pick something up.
“Which means—”
“These yours?” He held up some lacy panties, of all things, and looked at Wesley.
Oh God.
Heat rushed Wesley’s face like a tidal wave, and he scrambled for some sort of denial. But what reason could he possibly offer for having lacy men’s underwear in his possession? Besides, if he wanted to scare Nate off, this was the way to do it.
Wesley nodded, hazarded a look at Nate. No disgust, no repugnance, no shock.
He rubbed his fingers in the soft stretchy fabric. “Nice. You want to pack any of them?”
Wesley stared hard. Who even was this guy that didn’t blink at lace underwear in pastel colors in a single gay man’s bedroom? “No.” Wesley shook his head. He definitely did not want to pack lacy panties.
Something that sounded a lot like “shame” drifted to Wesley’s ears right before Nate asked, “Where do they go?”
“Um, I think I’m gonna have to wash everything before I wear anything again.
The thought of them touching all my stuff.
..” A shiver rolled down his spine. “Just toss them over there, and I’ll sort through all my clothes when I come home.
” The thought of how much work awaited him when he returned home for good almost sent him running from his own life and never coming back.
Pastel-colored lace went flying. “Okay, well grab whatever you want for the next week or two. I have a washer and dryer in the condo.”
Wesley followed the garment’s trajectory to the floor and blinked.
He turned to Nate, hands on hips, the movement causing twinges and catches throughout his upper body and reminding him he hadn’t taken any naproxen.
“Why aren’t you surprised or repulsed? Don’t you want to know?
” He waved in the direction the underwear had flown.
Another spasm surged across his chest, and he winced.
Nate tilted his head. “Why should I be? I go to sex clubs for sex. Who am I to judge? I watch porn. I’ve gone to pride parades and all manner of gay clubs. I’ve seen men wear all kinds of clothing. To each his own.” Nate shrugged. “Pack whatever you want.”
Wesley felt almost faint. “You’re serious?”
“Sure. Yeah. Of course.”
Huh. Wesley breathed out and began tossing clothes into his suitcase.
Most of what he grabbed was men’s clothing, although some items were in pastels.
In went a lot of comfy stuff, but he packed some of his teacher clothes in case he needed to go somewhere and present a more traditional face to the world.
His gaze flitted around the room, looking for his nightie. Where was it hiding? But maybe he shouldn’t... He imagined himself wandering around Nate’s condo in the loose and flowing gown, soft fabric brushing his skin, and feeling utterly himself.
But what if Nate saw him differently despite his words. What if that changed everything?