1. THURSDAY, AUGUST — SAN JUAN, PUERTO RICO #2
Evan is still asleep. I’m bored. And I’m hard.
Thinking about the last time you had me against the bathroom counter.
A second photo came through.
This one was angled lower. The towel was completely gone, and instead of a photo in the bathroom mirror, it was taken from the front camera.
He was fully hard, and fuck did the sight do awfully delicious things to my brain.
His hand was holding his large cock in full view of the camera.
The thick, prominent vein which ran along the underside of his shaft was on full agonizing display.
I knew it must be pulsing, because it always did when Silas was hard.
His cock was a bit darker than the rest of him, his natural skin tone more prevalent below the waist. But fuck, it made my mouth water with pure excitement.
My hands shook, jaw going slack at the sight of him, causing the comb in my mouth to slip and hit Lena in the shoulder.
“Ow!”
“Sorry,” I muttered, quickly locking my phone screen and slamming it face-down on the table, so she couldn’t see my impending ruin.
My heart hammered a frantic, heavy rhythm against my ribs. A hot flush creeped up my neck that had absolutely nothing to do with the room temperature.
This was the problem with Silas finally letting go of his control when it came to us, he took mine right along with him.
“Is Nice Dad losing his mind?” Lena asked, picking up the comb from the floor and handing it back to me. “The separation is getting to him, isn’t it?”
“It’s getting to all of us,” I admitted quietly, trying not to think of the images currently living on my phone as I returned to the braid with trembling fingers.
My gaze drifted to the mirror across the room, allowing me to take stock of how I looked. Expensive, dark, understated.
Except for the belligerent flash on my left wrist.
A heavy, gleaming platinum watch Silas had bought me at the six-month mark just because he wanted to.
I gave him shit for it at first, because I was completely caught off guard.
I didn’t know he was going to celebrate us being together for half a year, as we never thought about those things when we were younger.
However, Silas acted as if the milestone meant something deeply important.
It felt juvenile, sure, but his pure excitement when that date rolled around, and he got to give me this massive hunk of metal and gears, it made me give a fuck, too.
So much so that I immediately turned around and bought him a thick platinum chain that complemented it.
Partly because I wanted us to match, and I know Silas can’t stand the restricting feel of watches.
But also because the idea of him wearing a heavy chain, while on top of me, was kind of fucking sexy.
So you know when it’s time to come home, he had said when he gave it to me.
My fingers accidentally swiped the cool metal of the watch, and it grounded me in the present.
“There, done.” I tied off the end of Lena’s intricate braid with a small black hair tie. “You look professional. Like you could run a board meeting or assassinate a foreign dignitary.”
Lena spun around on the floor, touching the braid gingerly with her fingertips. “Thanks, Cal. Seriously, it’s…nice, having someone do this kind of thing for me. I always dreamt of it…”
She didn’t finish the sentence, but she didn’t have to.
She’d told me she lost her parents at the age of eight, but didn’t really remember anything about them, other than they died in a car accident, and they were both addicts.
There were no memories of a dad doing her hair, or a mom fussing over her appearance before school.
Somewhere along the line, through our friendship and the miles on the road, she decided I was the closest thing to a father figure she would get.
Which made me feel old as fuck, given I was only ten years older than her, but I wouldn’t trade it for the world.
And neither would Silas. Despite his initial hesitation, he had eagerly adopted the exact same protective role right alongside me.
I checked my phone again. It had been an hour since the last “nudge” from Silas.
Buzz. Buzz. Buzz. Speak of the devil.
I expected another nude. I expected a dirty joke about room service. Instead, I got a wall of text bubbles that oozed pure, unadulterated panic.
I am going to jail.
Bail money is in the safe. The code is your birthday.
If a blonde woman knocks on your door do NOT answer it.
I swear to God CALLUM.
LOCK THE DOOR.
I hate this island. I hate the heat. I hate coffee.
I stared at the screen, thoroughly baffled.
“Well?” Lena asked as she watched my face contort in confusion.
“He says he’s going to jail,” I reported flatly, “That he hates coffee, which is a lie, and he keeps using my government name. Which means he’s about to do something phenomenally stupid involving property damage.”
Breathe. What happened? Did Evan eat the last protein bar?
Three dots appeared instantly.
SHE SAID SHE WAS COMING TO TAKE CARE OF YOU.
I AM COMING UP THERE.
SCREW CREATIVE. I AM brEAKING THE DOOR DOWN.
“Okay,” I said, frowning deep lines into my forehead. “He’s officially lost his mind. He’s talking about someone ‘taking care of me’ and threatening to break kayfabe.”
A new text popped up. This time from Evan Wilder.
Update: He just threw a shoe at the TV. He keeps muttering about a blonde bitch and I think he’s trying to bribe housekeeping for a key to your room. If you value your life, hide. Also, tell him he owes me a remote.
I sighed and pinched the bridge of my nose while a headache started to form.
“He’s not just spiraling,” I told Lena. “He’s reached terminal velocity.”
Knock. Knock. Knock. The sound was sharp, rhythmic, and demanded attention.
My phone buzzed again. A final warning from Silas.
CALLUM IAN KINCAID DO NOT OPEN THAT DOOR.
Lena and I exchanged a long, dread-filled look. “I’ll get it,” she sighed as she marched to the door. One check of the peephole and she groaned, her shoulders slumping in defeat. “Oh God, we’ve been found.”
“Found?”
The door opened, and there stood Cora Smith, beaming like she was posing for a corporate headshot. She was a new backstage interviewer for the UWF. A young, blonde, and ambitious woman, who was currently holding a cardboard drink tray with two coffees and a white bakery box filled with pastries.
Cora had only been around a few months, hovering in the background of segments, trying to find her footing like everyone did in this brutal business.
But ever since Wrestle Empire and her spectacularly failed attempt to sleep with Evan of all fucking people, her gaze shifted and locked entirely on me.
God, she was a persistent pain in my, well, Silas’s ass.
When Lena started paying attention to me, it was out of adoration and a need for someone to protect her. Cora, on the other hand, wanted something purely physical. I knew she did, as she never tried to hide it. She didn’t seem to care either that everyone picked up on her vibe.
“Good morning!” Cora chirped, breezing past Lena like she didn’t exist. “I come bearing gifts! I got these from that famous bakery down the street. Pastelitos, I think they’re called?”
She set the drink carrier on the desk right next to my phone, which was vibrating so hard it was physically walking across the damn table.
She turned to me, flashing a smile that was all teeth, lip gloss, and calculated strategy. “I figured you might want some company. I know you and Si typically stay together when you’re on the road, so I’m sure you’re lonely up here all by yourself.”
I stared at her, trying my absolute best not to laugh, while also hiding my clear, burning annoyance with her presence.
It was fucking hilarious that to the locker room and everyone else we worked with, Silas and I were just two dudes that preferred to travel together rather than separate.
For the veteran wrestlers, it was a normal occurrence.
The road gets intensely lonely when you spend three hundred days a year on it, and having a friend on the roster who can be company in the silence was always better than fighting it alone.
The fact that Silas and I had perfected the image to the point nobody batted an eye at the way we were was still strange to me.
Surely, there had to be someone who raised a brow.
I guess, if I really think about it though, anyone who did was probably too damn scared of voicing it for it to ever be prevalent.
Wait a minute. Who the fuck did she think she was calling Silas, my Silas, Si? That was a strict no-fly zone for me. Why? No clue, it just was.
That’s when realization smacked me right between the eyes. Blonde. Knocking on my door. Bringing pastries.
The psychotic texts suddenly made perfect sense. Silas had probably tried to sneak up to see me, and somewhere in the treacherous journey from his floor to mine, he had crossed paths with Cora.
“Did you…happen to see Silas?” I kept my voice perfectly level, though my internal alarm bells were going off at a deafening volume.
“Oh, yeah!” She laughed, flipping her blonde hair confidently over her shoulder.
“He was in the lobby at the little coffee shop. I think it’s so funny.
Everyone says you’re the intense one, but him?
He’s just as scary. He was staring at everyone like he wanted to fight, and was either totally lost, or ridiculously nervous.
” She giggled, twirling a strand of hair around her finger as she grabbed one of the coffee cups out of the drink carrier.
“I tried to be nice and ease his mood. I told him I was coming to check on you. To make sure you were taken care of and ready to go, since you guys couldn’t hang out and all.”