Page 31 of Follows with Intent

“This might not sound as supportive as you think it does.”

“Of course it does,” Nico said loftily. “Being supportive is what I do.”

Rather than give Jadon an opportunity to debate that—and before Jadon’s nipples froze off—Nico started walking again.

They didn’t make it far. On the other side of the bridge, a Canada goose waddled up from the stream and glared at Nico. Then it honked.

“Jesus Christ,” Nico said, skipping down from the sidewalk and moving halfway into the road. The goose kept glaring at him.

Jadon, the big asshole, started laughing.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” Nico asked. Loudly. “That thing tried to kill me, and you stood there laughing!”

Jadon laughed harder.

“Here I am, being the single most supportive man in your life, and you’re going to stand there and shit yourself laughing while a goose disembowels me!”

Somehow, Jadon managed to quell his laughter. Giving the goose a wide berth, he moved down into the road. His movements became watchful and guarded, and he took Nico by the back of the neck and forced him into the crouch. He scanned the area around them. He pretended to speak into a mic. “The eagle is under attack. Repeat, the eagle is under attack.”

“Get off me!”

“Swarm, swarm, swarm!”

Nico was still trying to wrench himself free from Jadon when Jadon pulled him into a stumbling run. They looped around the goose, sprinting down the asphalt until, laughing again, Jadon towed Nico up onto the sidewalk. Nico was laughing too, but he swatted Jadon until he released him.

“Asshole!”

“All clear,” Jadon said. “Repeat, the eagle is all clear.”

“You are such a jerk! And you think it’s funny, and that’s so much worse!”

The laughter had faded into a glimmer of a smile. Nico was suddenly aware of Jadon’s quiet breathing, the tiny plumes of white, the way his chest rose and fell evenly. That single lock of hair was still stuck to his forehead. It was unfair and unjust and a sign of how messed up the universe was that when everybody else (i.e., Nico) was a sweaty mess after a run, Jadon looked like his shirt had been painted on, the definition of pecs and abs visible through the thin tee.

“I’ve been thinking about last night,” he said. “About that guy following you. I want to show you something.”

“What?”

Jadon took him by the shoulders and turned him. Then his arms slid around Nico’s waist, and the length of his body pressed against Nico’s, and Nico had enough blood left in his brain to think, That is definitely his dick, before Jadon started to speak, the words low and buzzing against Nico’s ear.

“If someone grabs you from behind, there are a few simple ways to escape.”

“Oh.”

Nico’s brain told him, a moment later, he had said it out loud, which was a good sign his next calendar appointment would be to crawl into a sewer and die of sheer and total humiliation.

Fortunately, Jadon either didn’t hear or didn’t care because he kept talking. “You can go limp and drop to the ground. He won’t be expecting that, and most likely, you’ll slip free and be able to run. Go ahead.”

“I don’t need you to—”

“The more you argue, the longer this is going to take.”

“Excuse me?”

A tiny rumble of laughter, and—that was definitely Jadon’s dick. Like, one hundred percent.

“Nico?”

“Hm?”

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