“Yeah. Killeen had connections, Toby. You know this. They’re coming after you for this.”
“Oh.” Tobias turned away from Soren but burrowed back into his arms, grateful when he didn’t push him away, though he’d never admit it out loud.
Soren’s arm came around him, his hand settling in the middle of his chest. “Oh? That’s it? That’s all you have to say? There’s a hit out on you.”
Tobias sighed. “I heard you.”
“Aren’t you going to say anything?” Soren nosed behind Tobias’s ear.
Tobias shook his head. “I have an excellent security system. Nobody’s breaking in here tonight. I’ll think about it tomorrow.”
Soren gave an exasperated chuckle. “You can’t Scarlett O’Hara your way out of this, Doc.”
Tobias recognized the reference. He wasn’t pretending the problem didn’t exist, though. “I’m not. I’m tired. It’s been a trying day. I just want to get some sleep. You don’t have to stay if you don’t want to.” Tobias kept his tone deliberately terse, both hoping Soren would go and praying he would stay.
“I’m not going anywhere.”
Not yet, Tobias thought before letting his eyes fall shut and willing himself to sleep.
12
Soren
“You’re still here.”
That was a voice in dire need of caffeine. Soren glanced up from the array of knives he’d been eyeing as Tobias padded into the kitchen. Bare feet, silent steps, pajama pants that hung low on his slender waist.Hair askew, glasses straight. All of it was a lethal combination, and Soren would’ve liked to have bent him over the counter just like that. Instead, he grinned, gaze straying to the tight, dark nipples he’d bitten hours prior before settling on the doc’s face again, particularly his flinty, far away gaze. “That’s the kind of exuberance I like to hear in the morning. I made coffee.”
“I don’t actually drink coffee.”*
“You have a machine, though.” Soren set down the knife in his hands. “For what? Guests you never invite over to your theater?”
“It would look strange for me not to have a coffee maker.”
“You’re overthinking that one, Doc. I’ll tell you what looks strange: having multiple drawers full of fancy fucking knives. It’s making me panicky trying to choose one. You ever experience that? Go into a store and there are so many damn options you can’t see any of them?”
“Overchoice. So, you prefer things to be curated?”
“Exactly. These knives need to be seriously curated.”
“What do you need a knife for in the first place?” Tobias came around Soren and reached into a cabinet, retrieving a glass that he filled from a smaller tap next to the sink.
“To chop some of those peppers in the fridge for an omelet.”
The glass paused just below Tobias’s plump lower lip. “You’re making me breakfast?”
“I’m makingmebreakfast. If you ask nice, though, maybe I’ll make you some, too,” Soren lied, having had every intention of making Toby the best omelet he’d ever put into his mouth. Soren frowned, because what had happened to teaching the good doc a few tricks, fucking him, then being on his merry way? Why did he care if Toby enjoyed his omelet? His frown deepened. Damn, he hated it when feelings started factoring in. It was rare but happened on occasion.
He pulled out his phone, aware of Toby’s gaze still on him, though no polite request for an omelet had issued from his mouth yet.
Soren tapped out a quick text.
Soren: Give me some back of the envelope odds the doc might survive a hit from Killeen’s men
Ronin: Solo or with you or some other bodyguard type watching him?
Soren: Solo
Ronin: Lol
