He shouldn’t have—worried, that is.
That night’s dinner included a salad with baby spinach, carrots, walnuts, and a balsamic vinaigrette dressing; 3-cheese lasagna with roasted red peppers and mushrooms; ciabatta with garlic-infused butter; and, for dessert, raspberry tarts. All Matt had to do was set the table, assemble the salad, and bake the lasagna. Bradley had even paired a wine for the meal (Chianti Classico) and a coffee for the dessert (a salted caramel dark roast).
The only thing missing was Adam, who was holed up with Garland and MCU’s lawyers, reviewing the settlement agreement.
By 5:26 p.m. and still no Adam, Matt fretted whether his underarms were funky. He’d showered that morning, but that had been almost 12 hours earlier.
He went to the upstairs guest bathroom, removed his shirt and scrubbed his pits with a soapy handcloth. Decided maybe his balls could use a do-over as well. Stripped off his jeans and scoured his scrotum, which confused his poor dick into thinking it was playtime.
Down, boy.Down, he pleaded.
He checked his hairline, snipped a couple of strays. Trimmed his eyebrows. Brushed his teeth and flossed.
By 6:15 p.m., he grew concerned. Where was Adam?
The lasagna would need reheating.
By 6:45p.m., he was imagining all sorts of tragedies that might have befallen Adam.
And then the door opened.
Adam shuffled in, lugging a suitcase and a small shoulder bag.
Matt sensed something had gone wrong. “Did MCU’s lawyers try to screw you over?”
Adam shook his head. Plopped his luggage on the floor. “Everything was going fine until my dad showed up.”
“Your dad! What happened?”
“He was his usual asshole self, that’s what happened,” Adam said. “He threatened to derail the whole deal. I’m meeting with Garland tomorrow to see what we can salvage.”
Matt pulled him into a hug, enveloped him with his arms. Buried his nose in Adam’s thick hair. Breathed him in.
Matt felt himself hardening. Knew the timing was wrong. Eased his groin away from Adam’s.
Adam’s eyes met Matt’s. Their copper flecks sparkled.
“I felt that, you know,” he said.
Matt blushed. “Sorry. My dick’s happy to see you.”
“Mine, too,” Adam said. He pressed himself into Matt. “But—”
Matt leaned in for a kiss. He did not want to hear the rest of that sentence.
Adam dodged the kiss. “—I need a little time to clear my thoughts. Let me change and freshen up. Maybe eat something first? Is that okay? Then I’m all yours—or you’re all mine.”
Matt remembered Bradley’s advice, that Adam was in the driver’s seat. “Of course! Take your time. Our room is the first left at the top of the stairs. I’ll plate the salads and warm the entree.”
Adam carried his luggage upstairs.
Matt watched his retreating ass, the ripple of his glutes as his hips pivoted with the climb.
When there was nothing left to see, Matt busied himself with final preparations for dinner, trying to focus on the evening ahead, but finding his thoughts clouded with worry. Had Adam’s dad fucked up everything? The cash settlement? Adam’s return to MCU?
A few minutes later, Matt was in the dining room filling their wine glasses,when Adam appeared, still in the same jeans and shirt he’d been wearing earlier. Matt had not heard him coming down the stairs.
“Roses! For me?”
