Chapter 11
Rhys hadn’t set an alarm since returning home, but he woke up around the same time nonetheless. Normally, he rolled out of bed and got his day started, but this morning, he tucked his pillow more firmly under his head and stayed where he was. He wasn’t sleepy, but he wasn’t eager to leave the cozy comfort of his bed and face Thomas either. Not when his thoughts about Thomas had somehow become such a messy tangle that he didn’t know where to begin trying to unravel them.
For one thing, their motorcycle ride had been much more enjoyable than he’d expected. Andy had always had his own bike, so they’d rarely had any reason to ride together, and Rhys liked having a passenger. He liked havingThomasas a passenger a little too much, because he could remember the warmth of Thomas’s lean body pressed against his back all too well. Aside from that, they rode well together. Thomas knew how to lean with Rhys and didn’t get freaked out when they took a tight curve, and he’d shown his delight in the scenery, the ride, and the challenging road without reticence.
For another, Rhys wasn’t comfortable with how Scott’s blatant attempts to get Thomas’s attention made him feel. He knew his anger stemmed from the situation with Jerry and seeing Scott trying to make history repeat itself. He told himself it was foolish because Thomas wasn’t his boyfriend, so it didn’t matter if Scott successfully seduced Thomas — but that didn’t stop him from feeling jealous and possessive while watching Scott flirt with Thomas.
But lying in bed to avoid his problems wasn’t going to help solve them. He just had to get through a few more days, and then Thomas would go back to New Mexico, and they could finally pretend to break up so this whole farce would be over. Life would get back to normal, and maybe Viv would stop trying to convince Rhys to start dating again because as far as she knew, he had tried.
Rhys threw back the covers at last and got out of bed, but he still wasn’t in a hurry to get downstairs. Instead, he went through his morning routine and got dressed at a leisurely pace, trying to convince himself that he wasn’t stalling all the while. As he ambled down the stairs, the scent of bacon wafted up to him, making his stomach growl, and he walked into the kitchen to find Thomas standing at the stove.
“Don’t forget, the eggs shouldn’t be crispy,” Rhys said, falling back on the kind of teasing banter that felt natural between them.
Thomas glanced back at him over his shoulder, smiling. “How about pancakes? Should they be crispy?”
“Maybe if you’re planning to use them for target practice,” Rhys said. He’d gotten used to taking care of himself, so having someone cooking for him was somehow both nice and a little weird and uncomfortable. But Thomas probably didn’t want him hovering the whole time, so he went to take a seat at the table. “If you need a hand with anything, let me know.”
“Will do.” Thomas turned back to the stove. He’d tied his hair up in a messy bun, and the tank top he was wearing showed off the toned muscles of his arms. He lowered the heat under the bacon, then picked up a hot pad and opened the oven door, bending over to peer inside. “Actually, no pancakes this morning. I made chocolate muffins.”
“Did Mama bring over a mix?” Rhys asked, surprised but pleased. He didn’t have any kind of box muffin mix in his larder.
“No, I made them from scratch. There was some unsweetened cocoa in the cabinet, and I chopped up a candy bar and tossed that in, too.” Thomas reached into the oven, leaning forward in a way that made his gray sweatpants outline his pert ass. Then he straightened up and showed Rhys a pan of muffins that filled the kitchen with the scent of chocolate.
Rhys breathed in deep and savored the smell of warm, chocolatey muffins. “You know, I don’t really need anything else for breakfast other than those muffins,” he said.
“Well, you’ll get your shareifyou’re good.” Thomas put the muffin pan on a trivet, then turned his attention back to the bacon. He’d already prepared a plate lined with paper towels, and he laid out the strips of bacon on it to drain. With unhurried efficiency, he prepared a cup of coffee with sugar and cream, and he carried both the mug and a glass of orange juice to the table and placed them in front of Rhys. “I could fix some eggs and toast too. I don’t want Viv to say I’m letting you eat nothing but junk for breakfast. She’d skin me alive,” he said as he returned to the oven.
“Are you kidding?” Rhys made a scoffing noise. “I’m surprised she hasn’t smelled the chocolate and come banging on the door. When it comes to these muffins, you’ve got a choice to make. Don’t tell her about them so I can eat more and make me happy or tell her so she’ll want some, which will makeherhappy.”
Thomas plucked two of the dark brown muffins out of the pan and put them on a plate, which he took to Rhys. “I want to makeyouhappy, of course.”
Rhys looked at the plate and then at Thomas, unsure of how to take the remark. “I’m not going to argue with that if it gets me muffins,” he said, trying to keep his tone light.
Perhaps Thomas sensed his uncertainty, because he grinned. “Hey, it’s to my advantage to make sure you’re happy, right? I don’t want you devising torturous stunts to put me through next season.”
Rhys relaxed and picked up a muffin, relieved to know Thomas hadn’t meant the comment the way Rhys feared he had. Well, mostly relieved.
“It’s always a good idea to keep your stunt coordinator happy,” he said, and then he bit into the muffin. “Mm….”
Thomas watched him for a few moments before going back to fetch the bacon. “I guess I don’t have to ask if you like them.”
“It’s nice and rich,” Rhys said, licking his lips to catch any stray crumbs or smears of chocolate. “Just the way I like them.”
“Good.” Thomas’s voice seemed a little strangled, and he cleared his throat as he put the bacon on the table. “Do you want butter for that?”
“No, thanks, I’m good.” Rhys polished off half the muffin before realizing he was being rude. “Sorry for not waiting,” he said with a sheepish smile and a little shrug. “But you know… hot chocolate muffin.”
“You’re a man who goes after what he wants, right?” Thomas said. He plated a muffin for himself and poured a cup of coffee, and then he joined Rhys at the table, sitting adjacent to him rather than across from him.
“I do.” Rhys leaned over so he could shoulder Thomas playfully. “Thanks, this was a nice surprise to wake up to.”
“You’re welcome.” Thomas looked pleased. “I wanted to thank you for the ride yesterday. That was the most fun I’ve had in a long time.”
“Same, actually.” Rhys decided making the admission wasn’t too dangerous. “I’d let myself forget how much I enjoyed riding because it was something I did with Andy, and I associated it with him, but I rode before Andy.” He smiled again, wistfully this time. “I can ride after him too.”
“Yes, you can.” Thomas broke the muffin on his plate into pieces. “You should do things that make you happy. You deserve tobehappy.”
“Up here, I know that.” Rhys tapped his temple, and then he flattened his palm over his heart. “But this is harder to convince. I feel like it’s unfair that I get to keep living my life and Andy’s got cut short because some asshole was paying more attention to their phone than the road. He was so young, and he deserved more happy years too.”
