“Like I said before. Friend? Your boss? A boyfriend?”
He tenses in my arms. “You’re not my fucking boyfriend.”
I grin and stroke my fingers through his hair. “Fair enough. How about you tell them you’re my little slut?”
He coughs and tries to shove away, but I keep him against me, not letting him run. Not this time. Not ever.
“I can be there in any capacity. You don’t need to do this alone.”
He seems to go limp in my arms, his tired, weary soul giving up for the night.
“Yeah. I guess so. I’ll…think about it…what to tell them.”
I nod and press a kiss to the top of his head, just as a scratching noise comes from the door.
“That’s Little Pants,” he murmurs. “You shouldn’t have locked her out. She gets offended.”
“What happened to Little Shit Pants?”
“Little Pants seemed more fitting.”
He slides from between my legs and lets her in, that feisty little ball of orange hopping onto the bed and nestling into my side. A moment later, I can feel her purrs settle against my skin.
If only Mitchell could be this content.
If only he could let himself be so happy.
“Hey, guys! Hey!” I hear Emmy shout, nearly stumbling over his feet as he barrels toward us. “I haven’t seen you both in ages. It’s been like years, man.”
“It’s been two days,” Mitchell says dryly.
Emmy snorts and then shakes his head. “Yeah, okay. Whatever. I was lonely here. Yesterday, I just ended up getting a smoothie and leaving. Had no motivation to do anything else. So now I’m pumped you’re both here. Although, you’re both here later than normal…”
Mitchell shifts on his feet. We are late. Much later. Because I ate his ass over my desk just twenty minutes ago. My tongue peeks out and wets my lips. I can still taste him there.
Fuck. He’s good. He’s so fucking good for me.
“Well, it doesn’t matter,” Emmy says with a wave of his hand. “What are we doing tonight, boys? Some weights? Hitting those hard bag things that make me feel like I’m going to break my fingers? Throw balls like real men?”
He flexes his arms, and I see the barest of muscles pop out. After all these years, he’s grown into a handsome young man,but he still has that slim, eager physique. All that bustling energy just burns those calories right away.
“How about we start with weights and then we can move to the treadmills?”
Mitchell arches an eyebrow at me, and I smirk at him.
“Oh, awesome,” Emmy says. “Although, I’m kinda intimidated lifting weights with you two. You’re like…massive. Like big boulders, and I’m like a pebble…” He flexes his arm once more and frowns. “Hm. Kinda sad, actually.”
Mitchell interjects before I can. “Everyone has to start somewhere. You’ll get there.”
He chucks him under the chin and Emmy beams like a little kid who’s just gotten an ice cream cone. Fuck, Mitchell keeps doing this shit that shows his softer side and I hate that I love it. Emmy pulls a lollipop from his pocket and pops it into his mouth.
“See you still have a penchant for sweet things,” I say to Emmy as we watch Mitchell pick out enormous weights and start to lift them, his muscles bulging under the strain.
“Duh. I mean, I’d marry a candy bar, but I think that’s illegal.”
“I doubt it’s illegal.”
His eyes widen. “Oh my god, seriously? I’ll have to tell August he’s going to have to find someone else. Me and a bag of Skittles.” He groans and stares off into the distance. “Although, I do love August and he’s very hot, way out of my league. I don’t think I could ever score like that again. They might realize who they married, so I better keep August.”