Chapter One
“Dibs!” I called as I threw my bag on the bed by the window, followed by my body. It made a terrible creaking noise when I landed and sent my bag flying.
My boss, Alec, said, “For Christ’s sake, Mason.” He laughed and shook his head. “If there’s any damage fees on our bill, you’re paying out of pocket, numb nuts.”
We had just checked into the off-brand hotel our company paid for. Standard double queen room with a small window, desk, TV, and bathroom. No minibar or fridge. Not the worst, but I’d been in better.
“Good to know FinCrest Solutions doesn’t have deep enough pockets to keep their best sales team happy.”
Alec laughed from his belly. “Iwas the number one sales team. Alone. Just me. All by myself. Now, I have to share the glory with a snot-nosed kid fresh out of school. But it doesn’t matter. You won’t drag me down.”
“I graduated four years ago, dick. And I was the leading sales rep at my last job. FinCrest head huntedme.”
That was true, but the two jobs couldn’t compare. My new position came with much more prestige and responsibility. Besides, I had gotten sick of hawking toilets to hotel chainsand figured selling financial software would be more interesting. And lucrative.
I had only been inside sales, meaning I was on the phone chasing down leads and trying to get new toilets into existing hotels. I’d gone on sales trips, but only ever as support. As a bona fide Junior Field Sales Representative, on my first-ever trip with my new boss, I’d be pitching to potential clients in person. I was more than excited. Alec was, too.
“Pfft. You’re a baby. I’m coming up on ten years in the field. Talk to me when you have so many airline miles they beg you to spend them.”
“Weren’t you the one that said, ‘All in good time’? I’ll get there. And I’ll pass you on my way up.”
FinCrest was different from anywhere else I worked. They had a Matrix structure, so while I reported to Alec as the Senior to my Junior, he wasn’t my manager. He treated me more like a friend than a subordinate. The sales team had a bro-y vibe, regardless of gender, and Alec personified that dynamic. He gave me shit, and I gave it right back, but I got the vibe he’d have my back, and I’d have his.
Alec smiled, shook his head, and put his bag on the other bed. He said, “Want to grab a workout?”
I was happy our company sprung for places with gyms and maybe even a pool, but there was no business center or conference rooms. It wasn’tshitty, just not five-star. Which is fine. I’m not fussy, but FinCrest was cutting back on travel spend, meaning Alec and I had to share a room. And take an ungodly early flight—arriving most of a day before our meeting.
I had so much energy I was bouncing off the walls, but I had wanted to walk around the city. I’d never been there, and it was way too early to dragout our laptops in the cramped room.
“If it’s between working out and logging on right now, show me the weights, bro.” I chuckled. “But I kinda wanted tolook around first. Downtown is like a fifteen walk, according to Google.”
Alec tensed his eyes. When he hired me—he didn’t, but we had a sit down before I got the offer letter—he asked if I was a slacker. I am not. Though that’s been thrown my way more than once. I hate being thought of that way, or doing anything to give people that opinion of me. Especially my new boss.
He didn’t need to say it. I understood. He was wondering if I’d rather fuck around like a tourist or get shit done. According to him, working out, eating healthy, and staying fit were non-negotiables, full-stop.
Alec was the get-shit-done type. I could accuse him of being a total type-A, anal-retentive douchebag, but he wasn’t. He was chill and cool most of the time. But he’s said there’s a time for rest and another for play only after work is done. Not a terrible life philosophy, I guess, but it’s just not mine. I need a little sugar to help the medicine go down, you know?
“Eh, it’s like five a.m. Everything’s probably closed,” I said. “A workout sounds good. I’m freaking wired. Shouldn’t have had two triple espressos before the flight.” I chuckled.
Alec’s face dropped, like he felt bad. “Why don’t we check the gym out, and if it’s shitty, we can just take a run downtown? If it’s nice, we can jog there once we’re done. See if anything’s worth coming back for. Our meeting isn’t for eleven hours, there’ll be time to sightsee.”
“Aye aye, boss!”
That’s what I liked so much about Alec. If you were willing to give an inch, he’d give you a mile. If I show a little extra effort, go just beyond what’s expected, he compensates three fold. It makes him a great salesperson, too. I’d never seen him sell in person, but on the phone? Once he gets them to budge, he comes in hard with discounts, perks, upgraded levels of service—and boom—the contract is all but signed.
With a chuckle, Alec turned to his bag for his workout gear. Soon, we were shedding our flight clothes—sweatpants, T-shirts, and zipper hoodies. I expected business travel to be all suits and ties, but when you leave in the middle of the night and arrive more than half a day before meeting anyone, it’s best to be comfortable. I was glad Alec had the same idea when he picked me up.
I was far from uncomfortable with my body after playing sports and working out my whole life. I had no problem shucking my pants and shirt right next to Alec. Neither did he.
Now, I’m a curious guy, like most men. I wanted to know if all that effort in the gym meant Alec had better abs than me. But it was the first time I saw him without a shirt on, and the first time we were on a business trip together, working so closely. I kept my eyes forward. Alec didn’t.
From the corner of my eye, I caught him peeking. Nothing creepy, and like I said, I’m not shy, but I saw him glancing. Just a quick up and down once I was down to my briefs. I knew he was only eyeing me up as competition, and to assess how well we’d collaborate. Some guys just need to know where they stand physically with other men. Like, “Can I take him in a fight?” Or, I hoped, was Alec’s case, “Can I depend on him to have my back in one?”
I was younger than him, twenty-six to his thirty-two, but I didn’t think our age gap gave me an edge. And we were about the same height. I’m 6’2” and a half. He’s 6’3”, though I had a few pounds on him, if only just. It was down to how much work and effort we put into ourselves. I hoped his underwear-clad assessment of me was positive.
I’m a briefs guy, always have been, and always will be. The tighter, the better. Genetics and the stars aligned to give me more than enough to work with down there, and briefs keep everything in place when not in use. I also think my ass andpackage look great in the ones I buy, just in case I happen to show anyone my underwear. Alec was a boxer brief guy. Longer legs, but still tight. I knew that because, okay, I peeked too.
He looked good for his age, which I understand is offensive to anyone over 30, but a needed clarification for anyone under. Thick dude with big pecs and arms, well-defined abs and obliques, and giant legs. He wasn’t into trimming. Not a hairy beast, but his chest and belly were furry. I shaved off any hair that wasn’t on my head, legs, forearms, pits, or pubes.
