42. Chapter 42 #2
“Probably better than I'm gonna feel after you torture me with training as retribution for the run yesterday.” Colt scratched under Toast’s chin, and Toast grabbed his fingers to pull them into his mouth for gentle nibbles.
“What are you doing back there anyway? A thousand mouse traps? Ping pong balls you get to throw at me while I try to dodge?”
Beau couldn't quite hide the amused crinkle to his eyes, but he tried as he turned and set Toast back on the shelf. “You're real weird, boy.”
“You're the one with a thousand mouse traps in your house.”
Shaking his head, Beau gestured for Colt to follow him down the hall.
To his bedroom.
Nope. No. It was not going to be that easy.
Was it going to be that easy?
But Beau led him past that gloriously soft bed with the covers that smelled like Beau and into the bathroom instead. Which, okay. Weird. There were plastic bags stacked in the trash can, a standing towel warmer in mint green next to the tub, and the tub was full of—
“I am not getting in an ice bath!” Colt backed up, already fucking cold from thinking about it. “We are in Arizona, Beau. Zero interest in a polar plunge.”
“You're in pain.” Beau took a step toward him.
“I'll live.”
“Heard you say ‘I'm gonna actually die’ four times today.”
Colt retreated another step, his heel on the threshold between the bathroom and bedroom. “I'm dramatic!”
“You got track time tomorrow.”
“Since when?” Colt yelped as Beau picked up a huge green towel.
“Since I scheduled it after you diamonded that track going ninety yesterday.” Beau stepped closer, and Colt shuffled away. “You're gonna show me again. And you can't do that if you can't even turn your head.”
Colt turned on his heel and ran for the door.
Or tried to. He didn't even make it to the foot of the bed.
His right quad—the one he'd been using to hammer the brake pedal repeatedly at triple digits—staged a mutiny when Colt’s toes hit the area rug.
It seized, a white-hot cramp that made his leg lock straight.
Just what he fucking needed—to face plant in front of this particular man. Fuck.
He didn't face plant. Before he could go down, fabric wrapped around his shoulders, then under his knees. Beau scooped him up like he weighed nothing and walked them toward the bathroom.
“Beau! You're not supposed to touch me.” Colt tried to climb over Beau’s shoulder, and his obliques screamed in pain. “Fuck! Ow!”
“I'm not touching you. The towel is.” There was definite smugness in Beau’s voice, and Colt would have punched him if he wasn't so busy panicking because cold. “Stop squirming. You're gonna make it worse.”
“No, no, please, I—”
Beau tipped Colt over and dropped him into the tub, towel and all, with a violent splash. The shock hit his system all at once, the cold a physical assault hitting his skin like a million tiny fucking needles—holy shit.
He came up sputtering and pissed the fuck off, his hair plastered down his forehead, curls stretched straight so he couldn't fucking see. “Y-you bastard.”
Sucking in a painful breath, Colt scrabbled for purchase on the porcelain side of the tub, his fingers locked with cold.
He slipped and fell right back into the water, ice cubes clinking and chiming around him, loud even underwater.
He broke the surface again and hooked both arms over the side of the tub, ready to murder that big, sexy asshole.
When he shoved his hair out of his face, water flooding his eyes, he found Beau watching him with his arms crossed. His palm was against his mouth, and—
And he was laughing.
Colt blinked, and Beau lost it. The sound was warm and unguarded, and Colt forgot to be angry. Shit. He loved Beau’s laugh. Loved the way his crow's feet dug deeper into the corners of his eyes, the way he sounded so surprised by it, out of practice.
“You look like an angry, wet cat,” Beau wheezed as he leaned against the doorway. He wiped at his eyes and looked back at Colt—who glared again just to see what would happen—and started up again. “Ridiculous. You're ridiculous.”
Sinking into the icy water until just his eyes and nose were above the surface, the fight drained out of him along with all his warmth. How was he supposed to stay mad when Beau was laughing like that?
When Beau’s laugh had eased into chuckles, he came to kneel next to the tub. “You should take your shirt off while you’re in there. It’s gonna be hard to when you’re out.”
Colt rose up so his chin was just grazing against the ice. “You j-just wanna see me n-n-naked.”
Beau chuckled. “Boy, a blue-lipped, shivering mess isn’t really my type.” He checked his watch. “You’ve got eight more minutes. Take the shirt off before your arms go numb.”
“Too late.” Colt groaned and sat up anyway so he could peel his shirt off. He tossed it at Beau’s head, but of course Beau caught it with an eye roll.
“I’ll be right back.” Balling the dripping shirt up, Beau left the room.
Colt absolutely watched his ass. He was cold, not dead.
Movement caught his eye as he sank back into the ice, Toast poking his head into the room. The cat’s eyes locked on Colt, and Toast crouched low.
“I wouldn’t,” Colt warned. “He might toss you in, too. He’s feeling mean today.”
Toast meowed and crept inside. Then he popped his head up and jumped onto the counter, flicking his tail as his eyes tracked a cube floating in front of Colt’s chest.
Steady footsteps sounded from the bedroom, and Colt and Toast turned as one to watch Beau come back carrying a bundle of clothes.
More of Beau’s things. Awesome. Colt still had two of his shirts, and he never planned to give them back.
If Beau wasn’t careful, Colt was going to have half his closet soon.
Beau paused to stroke down Toast’s back, and the cat gave him that crunchy, stuttering purr as he arched into the touch. “Don’t worry, bud. I’m not planning on drowning him today.”
“Today!” Colt fumbled for an ice cube and tossed it at Beau’s legs. It hit the floor instead and skittered off into the bedroom. “My aim’s only bad because I’m frozen solid.”
“Mhmm.” Beau checked his watch again. “Five minutes.”
When those five minutes were up, Beau reached into the towel warmer and pulled out another huge towel. Then he dropped the bundle of clothes inside and shut the lid, spreading the towel out between his arms and holding it open for Colt. “C’mon. Time to get out before you really do freeze.”
Great. Except that when Colt went to stand, he realized he couldn’t even feel the bottom of the tub. He sighed, too goddamn cold to fight it, and turned to look up at Beau with his biggest eyes. “I can’t.”
Beau watched him for a long moment and lowered the towel. “Can I help?”
It sounded so vulnerable, so sincere, that Colt didn’t even consider saying no. Teeth chattering, he nodded.
Towel over his shoulder, Beau stepped up to the tub, grabbed Colt under both arms, and started guiding him up out of the water. His hands felt scorching, blood rushing toward the warmth of them. “Easy. Nice and slow.”
He helped Colt over the side of the tub and onto the green bath mat before wrapping the blissfully warm towel around his shoulders.
Colt sighed as heat seeped into his skin, though he had a feeling it would be a long time before it got to his bones.
Hands rubbed him through the towel—down his arms, his back, his chest. Beau was focused entirely on getting Colt warm and dry, and that focus was making Colt feel a lot warmer than the towel.
Being cared for so thoroughly by Beau, of all people, made something in him settle.
“Thank you.” Colt looked up to find Beau watching his face. “I know I’m difficult. I appreciate this anyway.”
It was silent for a long beat, and then Beau gave a soft huff. Not a laugh, but almost. He turned his attention to Colt’s arms and kept rubbing heat back into them. “Like you difficult. You’d be borin’ otherwise.”
Colt couldn't have helped his grin if he’d tried.
Or his blush, really, but Beau was concentrating so much on getting Colt defrosted that he didn’t notice.
Pretended not to, maybe, but it didn’t matter because Beau didn’t say shit he didn’t mean.
Ever. He liked Colt being an unrepentant brat.
Didn’t tolerate it. Didn’t like Colt in spite of it. He just…liked him.
“Softie,” Colt murmured as he leaned forward and pushed his forehead against Beau’s chest. Beau's hands stilled on his arms, just for a heartbeat, before starting up again. “For the record: I like your stubborn ass, too.”
He pulled back enough to look up and found that face so close to his that he could feel Beau’s breath across his cheeks. Beau’s gaze flicked down to Colt’s mouth for a fraction of a second before finding Colt’s eyes again. Colt’s pulse kicked, heat sliding up his chest.
Then Beau squeezed both of his arms and stepped back toward the towel warmer. He popped the lid open and pulled out the clothes. “Better get dressed before you catch cold.”
“Okay.” He accepted the clothes, and Beau picked Toast up off the counter before heading back into the bedroom and shutting the door with a soft click.