“I’ve got it. The strong ones?” Bonnie was there, placing each bottle on the desk and scanning the labels.
“Yeah.”
“Right.” She opened the bottle, dropped two pills on my hand, and pressed my water bottle into the other.
I downed the pills.
Then I let her guide me to my couch. I let her put an icepack on my forehead. I let her close the blinds, turn off the music, and quietly close the door as she let herself out.
I didn’t remember anything beyond that.
Chapter Four
Malik
“What is his problem?” I sipped my coffee in the Starbucks on Hastings Street.
Blossom sat across from me and, even as I stared at her, her gaze didn’t waver from her phone. She did, however, stop her rapid-fire typing for a moment. “Bonnie won’t say, but he’s got some kind of medical condition. I worry about his blood pressure sometimes, you know? He goes kind of purple. And he’s like, old.” She resumed her furious thumb tapping.
I might’ve been of the instant-messaging generation, but my thumbs were too big and clumsy on the keyboard. I relied on predictive word choice and sheer determination to create my messages.
Oh, and I kept them bloody short.
“He’s notthatold.” The guy had overlong blond hair that kind of framed his face. He had powerful green eyes—sort of moss-colored. He was just a couple inches taller than me—about Creed’s height. But where my friend was slender, thisguy was more muscular. Hard to tell his measurements under that grandfather cardigan.Seriously, a cardigan? Who the fuck wears those?I snuck a peek out the window at the darkening skies.
Mama Murthi had said something about a rainstorm this afternoon and had wagged her finger at my sandals and shorts. But hey, weather like this deserved to be honored with shorts and T-shirts. We hadn’t hit winter yet, for crying out loud. I’d be digging out my winter coat soon enough—why welcome the season with open arms when I could cling to summer just a little bit longer?
“Malik?”
“Hmm?” I turned my attention back to Blossom, who had ceased typing. The woman was a force of nature, and her pouty lips pursed. “We’re getting tons of traction. Especially with the picture I posted of you just now.”
“Uh, which picture?”
She turned her phone, and I gazed. “Oh, that one.” The one where I faced the camera and was grinning—while thinking about stripping Spencer naked and fucking him over his desk. I didn’tknowhe was gay…but his close examination of me—instead of the outright dismissal I’d expected—had me perking up in all kinds of ways. And thinking all kinds of lascivious thoughts. “That’s a good shot.”
“Too bad I couldn’t get one with you and Spencer. Man, that would be…” She wrinkled her nose.
I waited with bated breath.
“Hot. I mean, you two are super-hot. And to have both of you together? An eleven on the sex meter.”
“Oh, is Spencer gay?”
She snorted. Then sobered. “Oh, right. Uh…yes. But maybe don’t tell anyone? He’s more interested in being known as a social justice warrior than as a gay man. Personally, I think that’sall bullshit. We are who we are. We love who we love. I can say, I love everyone.”
Ah, my unabashed pansexual friend. Well, we were friendly. That counted.
Right?
I saluted her with my ceramic mug and took another sip. “Totally agree.”
“We need a photo with the two of you. Maybe looking over some documents? He looks totally sexy in his reading glasses. The glasses he doesn’t want anyone to know he wears.”
Picturing Spencer in black-framed glasses perched on his nose was easy. He’d look up from his desk, over the rims, and give me acome fuck melook. I’d crawl under his desk and give him a blow job while he—
“Malik.” Blossom waved her hand in front of my face.
“Hmm?”
