Page 56 of His Boys to Protect

Adam made an impatient gesture, then rolled his eyes. “So? Did you figure it out? Are you officially bi now?”

“Adam,” John muttered, chuckling under his breath and shaking his head.

“What? I'm curious.”

Ward rubbed the back of his neck, feeling pinned by the two pairs of eyes fixed on him. “Yeah, maybe,” he said, then rolled his own eyes. There was nomaybeabout it. He was completely, utterly infatuated, and with two boys at once. The feeling was more intense than it had been with any woman he'd dated.

And it seemed like it would beforeverbefore he got a chance to see either of them again. Had it truly only been a week since he met Skylar? It seemed like it had been both yesterday and ages ago, all at once.

Ward threw himself into work, trying to stay focused as the days slowly passed. Rosé bottling came and went, as did the pruning of the vines. He and John lost themselves in the bottling of the whites, as well as plans and preparation for the year. The Paso Robles Wine Festival would be happening before they knew it. Then the summer monitoring of the grapes. Then another harvest. Around and around it went, year by year. But this year was starting out so very different, not least because it felt like it was dragging on.

When he wasn't working, Ward spent nearly every waking moment, thinking of the boys. Charlie texted him almost every day. Conversation with Skylar was still hit-and-miss. They barely got a chance to respond to one another's greetings within the same day, let alone carry on an entire conversation. Still, it was something. Ward lived for every bit of it. For every scrap of a moment with either of them.

But, finally, the days and weeks passed. Valentine's Day arrived, and then Ward found himself flying north on the freeway, racing back towards the city. In a few, short hours, he'd get to see Skylar again. Then, maybe try to figure out a way to see Charlie while he was in town.

He couldn't wait.

Chapter 22

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SKYLAR

SKYLAR HESITATED at the hotel room door.

“Fuck,” he muttered to himself, too wound up to come up with anything more creative.Why am I even here?He knew who was in that room. The text message from the scheduling coordinator had merely read,Ward (repeat), followed by a time and the address of this hotel. He had no other clients named Ward, and this was the same hotel where he'd met the man before.

So it had to behim.

Until that message arrived, Skylar had no clue that Ward was coming to the city again. Even with their halting, intermittent text exchanges, the man had never so much as hinted at it. Of course, Skylar hadn't really given him a chance. The lag between messages was entirely his doing. Granted, part of it was beyond his control. The two of them were only awake and unoccupied at the same time for mere moments, not enough to say more thangood morningorgoodnightto one another. All the rest of the time, one or the other of them was either at work or asleep.

But even when they did manage to catch one another, Skylar tried so hard to resist. Tried to ignore the messages. Ward feltlike an addiction. A beautiful, glorious addiction, one he couldn't bear to give up. But he had to. Ward and Charlie were texting a lot, which was a good sign. If Skylar could simply keep himself away, there was a chance those two could turn into something more.

What Skylar should have done was turn down this job tonight. Maybe call in sick. Instead, he'd found himself rushing to get ready and flying across the city. Racing up to this room. Ward was just beyond that door. So close.

“Fuck,” he repeated, then lifted his hand to knock. He was usually so much better at resisting temptation, at denying himself all the little things he wanted.

But this wasWard.

The door opened, and there the man stood in all his glory, a soft smile on his face, his hair falling into his eyes. “Hey,” he murmured, taking a step back and holding the door open.

Skylar stared up at him, holding his breath, then let out a curse. “Fuck,” he spat once more for good measure. Skylar stepped into the room, yanked the door out of Ward's hand, and slammed it shut behind him. “Why are you here?”

Ward blinked. “I'm sorry?”

Skylar ran his hands back through his hair. He'd come as himself tonight, per the client instructions he was given. He wore the one pair of jeans he owned that didn't have holes in the knees, his only pair of sneakers, a long-sleeved shirt, and Charlie's old hoodie. No makeup. No hair products. He hadn't even bothered to shave his face or his legs, leaving stubble all over. Was he trying to turn Ward off? Or was he simply grabbing onto what Ward offered: a chance to be himself?

“Why are you here?” Skylar repeated, trying to avoid looking at the man, each glance making it harder to keep his distance.

“I missed you,” Ward replied simply. “I wanted to see you again. And if this was the only way to do that, then so be it.” After a long pause, Ward said, “But if you don't want to be here–”

“Idowant to be here, Ward! And that's the problem.”

“Why is that a problem?”

Skylar paced, his breaths coming faster and faster. “Because…”

“Sky? Are you worried about Charlie? Because he knows I made this appointment.”

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