Page 70 of Something So Strong

Receiving no food to fill his shit-stirring appetite, Kai cools the smart-ass comments and keeps pace with me as I walk silently to the hotel in the freezing cold—the whole time wishing his hand was pressing into the small of my back.

Inside the staff room, our silence continues as we face each other—though slightly offset. Kai leaning back on the table, and me against the kitchenette counter as we wordlessly sip our coffees.

Then, my monkey brain slips up and I remember his profile picture. The one where he was so small, and skinny, and… nothing at all like he is now.

He’s got the physique of an Olympic swimmer, for Christ’s sake. His chest is broad and his shoulders are wide. Then there’s his waist and his thighs—his fucking thighs. He clearly works on them. A lot.

Fuck, they look good resting against the edge of the table.

No. Don’t lean back.

Stop looking, Jesse.

Fuck! I can see his dick through his khakis.

My eyes widen as I inhale sharply and I make a point of not looking back at him as I walk towards the front desk.

“Almost made it on time.” Celeste slaps me on the shoulder as I pass her in the hall.

Inside the reception area, Wade is finishing up with a guest, and when I see the length of the line behind them, I die a little inside. Closing my eyes, I breathe deeply, force my muscles to relax, and open my eyes again with a warm, but fake, smile.

“Morning, Wade,” I greet him, dragging my hand across the top of his back as I pass by just in case Kai walks through the door at this very moment.

“Kai here yet?” he asks.

“He’ll be out in a second. You head out after this one.”

Making eye contact with the next person in the queue, I gesture for them to step forward and thus begin my four-hour drag of pretending to give a shit about people I’ll never see again.

The morning has gone past so quickly that I barely had time to scratch my ass.

It’s already well past eleven, and even though I’m finishing up with the last group in line, one guest was still a no-show.

“Please sign here, Mr. Monterey,” I say, placing the bill and pen on the marble.

“I hope you’re not trying to steal my man, Jesse,” a second man says boldly as he leans on the counter and rests his chin in his hand. “Though, if you are, you have our number. A third like you is always more than welcome.”

The first guest turns to his partner and jokes, “Who said you were invited?”

“Now, now, boys. There’s plenty of me to go around,” I play along—taking back the bill and pen.

“Did you hear that, babe? He called us boys.”

“You could almost be our son with how young you are.”

“I don’t believe it for a second. The pair of you don’t look a day over thirty-five.”

“Oh God, give me that thing back,” Mr. Monterey says, shaking his hands over the counter towards the bill. “I need to add a tip for you.”

“Nonsense.” I snatch it away. “I shouldn’t be rewarded for telling the truth.” With a wink, I walk the few steps towards the printer as the couple gushes over me.

Kai has been there for the past few minutes, checking its ink levels and restocking it with paper. But just like he’s done on every other occasion during the shift when we’ve been within one meter of each other, he immediately vacates the vicinity like we’re two positively charged magnets that can never touch. So I take my time, pretending like there’s something wrong, and press a few unnecessary buttons because I’m enjoying being the center of someone’s attention. Even if it isn’t Kai’s. But when I turn back, I see the last guest to checkout has finally arrived, and Kai is going out of his way to ignore them.

“Here’s your receipt, gentlemen.” I smile sincerely at my fan club. “I’m glad you enjoyed your stay, and I hope to see you again soon.”

“I hope that means you put your number on there.”

“Come on now, Darren. Leave the poor boy alone to do his work.” Mr Monterey nods towards me and pulls his boyfriend away.

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