Page 19 of Valor on the Move
“Ticklish,” he muttered.
Shane unpeeled a Band-Aid. “Well, at least this injury wasn’t my fault.”
“That was nothing. And thanks for your help.”
“Anytime.” Shane smoothed on the bandage, aware of Rafael’s gaze on him. Maybe it was the stillness of the late hour and their proximity, but the moment suddenly felt unnervingly intimate. He let go of Rafael’s foot and stepped back, rolling down his sleeves. “Good as new.”
“Thanks.” Rafael didn’t move from the counter, and he stared at the floor beneath his dangling feet.
“Let me just give it another sweep to be sure.” Shane busied himself with the dustpan and broom.
After a few moments, Rafael said, “It was roasted grape tomatoes with basil and goat cheese. I was just about to add the cheese and put it back in the oven when I dropped it.”
“Sounds delicious.” Shane put away the dustpan and medical kit before shrugging on his suit jacket. He’d lingered long enough.
“If I make it again tomorrow night, will you try it?”
Shane paused in straightening his collar. “I really shouldn’t.”
“Please? It would help me out so much to get your opinion. Besides, that way you’ll know exactly where I am, and that I’m not being kidnapped.”
It was probably a bad idea, but Rafael’s eyes were so imploring. The kid was clearly lonely. “Okay. I’ll come up around midnight for a taste. Only for a few minutes.”
“Awesome. Thanks.”
Shane hurried downstairs, but all was quiet and still. When he checked in with the command office, everything was in order, and the night went on as if he’d never gone upstairs at all.
Chapter Five
Rafa had a serious problem.
No one else had seemed to notice that time had slowed to the approximate rate of a sloth crawling on its belly through a vat of molasses. The aides and staff all bustled about like it was any other day, when it clearly wasn’t. He was going to cook tonight, and Shane was going to taste it. This was happening in real life and not just his head.
He couldn’t believe he’d actually said the words out loud, asking Shane to come back. And although he knew Shane was only being nice, excitement still simmered through him. Since his parents were out of town, Magda only made a quick appearance in the kitchen, and she was nice enough to load him up with supplies and even give him a quick lesson on the proper way to chiffonade herbs.
Then Marissa called to talk about an upcoming foundation event his mother wanted him to chair, and Rafa forced himself to jot down notes, knowing he wouldn’t remember a freaking word later. It was a good distraction for fifteen minutes, at least.
It was late afternoon when his phone buzzed. Rafa was flopped on his bed naked after another jerk-off session starring Shane and his thick cock, which alternated being cut and uncut in Rafa’s imagination. Of course he had no idea what Shane’s cock really looked like and never would, but in his head it was spectacular. He reached for his phone, expecting Ashleigh and hoping it wasn’t Marissa again. Instead, a text from his brother stared back at him.
How’s it going?
That was Matthew—a man of few words. Affection and longing surged through Rafa. He realized he hadn’t seen Matty since Christmas. His thumbs flew.
Okay. Mom’s making me work with her foundation, but it’s good experience, I guess. How’s life in the pool?
Wet.
Rafa smiled fleetingly. Matthew had always loved swimming, but by his senior year of high school it had become an obsession. Even now, Rafa couldn’t help but resent it just a little. With only two years between them, they’d been inseparable as kids. Now they saw each other on holidays when Matty couldn’t come up with a good enough excuse to stay away.
Rafa asked: Are you working on your backstroke?
Mostly butterfly. Dude, why didn’t you go to Paris with your girl? That way Mom at least has to cross the Atlantic to meddle.
Nausea waved through him. Not only did he barely see or talk to Matty—his brother didn’t even know him anymore. But by the time Rafa had been ready to actually say it out loud in senior year, Matthew had been long gone to California. Adriana too, and Chris had really never lived at the White House. It hadn’t been until Rafa had met Ashleigh that he’d been able to say the words.
Rafa typed out: It hasn’t been too bad.
Matthew replied: She’s dropping by here on her way back to DC next week. Even more suits around. Just what I need.
Of all of them, Matthew had rebelled most against the constant protection. Rafa could remember staring at his plate and spearing peas with the tines of his fork as Matty and their parents had argued about having agents at prom. Of course their parents had won. They always did. He typed again.
