Page 19 of Finders Keepers
Yeah, time to get up and move around, at least for a few minutes. Maybe a little something in his stomach and more ibuprofen so he could get a little more sleep and get back on schedule.
Wesley sat up, his vision adjusting to the darkness. The lingering throb in his head had dulled to a steady ache; no longer the sharp pounding from earlier, but still insistent. The stiffness from all the lying around pulled at his torso and back, a slow, dragging soreness. His bruised chest protested with every small shift, the deeper aches lurking beneath his skin. The zings, twinges, and pangs from moving were still there—just no longer screaming, merely murmuring their complaints.
He shuffled into the living room, using the wall to brace himself on the way to the kitchen. After taking a coupleibuprofen tablets and choking down some vanilla-flavored Greek yogurt, Wesley was once again drawn to the glow beyond the living room windows.
He used the dining room table and living room furniture for support on his unsteady hobble to the large-framed view overlooking North Omaha. Why hadn’t Nate unpacked? He claimed he didn’t like this place, but why? Compared to where Wesley lived, it was a mansion. Well, maybe not quite, but it was spacious and had a great view of the city. Everything was close by.
He shrugged. Not really his business. Just a few more days and then he’d be back in his own life, leaving Nate to his. Maybe they’d meet again, maybe they wouldn’t. Unless Nate asked for Wesley’s help, he wasn’t one to offer anything unsolicited. Except maybe sex. But given his current state, even that was off the table.
He wasn’t sure what floor Nate lived on, but the view of Omaha, lights glimmering for miles, was amazing.
Wesley had wanted to stay in Omaha or one of the surrounding communities, but the pay versus cost of living in Plattsmouth when he’d been job hunting had been better. He earned enough to keep himself housed, clothed properly for a schoolteacher, keep his classroom fun for his students, and pay his few debts.
The window was cool on his forehead as he gazed at the city. Despite the hour, there was still traffic on the freeway in the distance and the major roads that crisscrossed the urban landscape. White headlights and red taillights floated along the streets below.
A faint noise—toilet flush?—indicated Nate was also awake and moving about. The muffled footfalls on the carpet warned Wesley that he was headed his way.
“Hey...you okay?” Nate asked, his voice hushed as he joined Wesley at the window.
Wesley nodded. “Just woke up and couldn’t get back to sleep. My body’s tired of being prone, I guess.” He turned—and forgot the rest of what he meant to say. Nate stood there, bare chest catching the dim light.
Chapter Eight
Heat emanated from Nate’s big, bulky body and Wesley wondered what it’d be like to be pinned down by all that strength and power. Nate came to the club to be submissive. Was he ever not submissive? Wesley wasn’t looking to be dominated by any stretch of the imagination, but a more balanced give and take of pleasure with Nate would be nothing short of amazing. Once he’d fully healed of course.
Not that Nate would want him outside of the club. His secret self was an effeminate gay man, not the business professional he portrayed as a Dom or as a teacher. Nate wouldn’t be interested in someone like him. Guys like Nate—ultra-masculine, big, and exuding all that raw physical power—usually wanted other guys who matched that energy. Not a man who wore women’s clothing when he found something he liked and preferred pastel shades to bold colors. His carriage, when he felt safe enough to be himself, screamed his sexuality like a flashing neon sign. Which really begged the question...
“Nate?”
“Hmm?” Nate’s head swiveled in his direction.
“Why am I here? Why did you agree to take in a stranger who’s probably more trouble than he’s worth?”
Nate swiveled and rested his very shapely butt on the window ledge. Biceps bulged as he crossed his arms.
Wesley wanted to touch, to bite. Okay, maybe not bite, but definitely nip and lick.
The quiet went on for so long, Wesley almost told him to never mind. He was clearly trying to decide what to say or whether to say anything at all.
But Nate finally sighed. “I give a lot of money to charities and stuff. A lot of players set up foundations or non-profits,which I haven’t done yet...I want to, but there’s all kinds of research and decisions to make, and I just haven’t taken the time to do it.”
“And what does that have to do with taking in a beat-up stowaway?” The word tasted bitter. He hated how easily he could imagine Nate seeing him that way.
“Nothing, I gue– No, it’s—” He sighed, ran a hand down his face, the rasp of facial hair floating on the cool air. “Money’s great, you know? A lot of people don’t have enough, and by the grace of God I make a lot more money than I need to live on. But donating money? That’s easy. I don’t have to get my hands dirty. Not that I have a lot of time for that during the season. But I think about it sometimes. And then there you were. I have to admit that, at first, I was anxious to pass you off to be someone else’s problem. That was before I knew it was you. And then...I don’t know. It occurred to me that I could make a difference to someone. Face to face. In real time. Not just give money and pass the buck to someone else to make shit happen. Plus, I know you–kind of. After two…encounters...” He shrugged. “So it seemed like the right thing to do.”
Wesley’s chest tightened. A charity case—of course that’s what he was to Nate. “You realize I can’t ever pay you back except maybe in friendship, right?”
A noise of dismissal floated through the darkness. “Real friends are rarer than money in my life, so I accept.”
Wesley knew the feeling. Well, not the money part, he’d never had an excess of that. But the dearth of true friends...story of his life.
He looked out over the city, lights glittering in the darkness. “Okay, well, if that’s the why—what’s the how?”
“What do you mean?”
“What are the chances that yours would be the first unlocked car I found?”
Nate huffed a quiet laugh. “Slim to none. I never leave my car unlocked.”
