“Because I do, sir.” Actual anger, something I’d never felt for Vane, sparked to life in me, and I took a deep breath.
Vane’s eyebrows shot up and he leaned back, grasping the edge of the table. “I trust your judgement.”
We shared a long look. How far would that trust extend? Should I talk to Vane about Max? The moment passed, though, and Vane jumped as Jaxson did something under the table on their side that looked like it could have been mildly indecent and had them both snickering with each other, for all the world the picture of happy-couple bliss. I rested my chin on my hand and watched them whispering together, an odd pang battering at my chest. The waitress, a friendly girl who knew us well, caught my eye from across the room, and I nodded to let her know we’d have our usual. She smiled and took off to put our order in.
Vane whispered something low to Jaxson, and he turned to smile up at Vane. My gut cramped at the way Vane’s eyes glowed, even though he was sick and having a bad day. No, he wouldn’t want to hear anything positive I had to say about Max, not after Max had tried to corner Jaxson, and the bullshit with the newspaper that could have ended Vane’s career if things had gone even slightly different.
Vane could have lost Jaxson, and that would have been terrible because they were obviously so good together. I rubbed at my cheek and didn’t feel very good myself. Maybe I’d caught Vane’s bug. That’sallI needed.
No, I’d have to make myself all right with handing Max over to Vic and wash my hands of the entire mess. Vane turned and grinned at me.
“You could always send Kalinski out to shovel snow if you’re sick of having him around the office. I’ll tell him myself.”
“Ha,” I grumbled as steaming-hot plates full of food were set on the table in front of us. Sometimes it was good to work at the deputy mayor’s office.
After lunch I arrived back at the office with Vane to find Max already at his laptop hard at work again, and I left him to it.
Vane mouthed “snow shovel” at me, and I shook my head while he laughed his way back into his office.
For the rest of the day, Max worked without looking up or speaking a word to me, and I decided he had a definite cloud hanging over him. Around four, about an hour before quitting time, it got to me so bad to see him pouting at his screen that I thought about asking him what was wrong, but I made myself ignore him. I shouldn’t coddle him when he was down because I wasn’t his Daddy, and it would send the wrong message.
We drove back to my house separately that evening because the roads weren’t too bad, and that was good, too. I didn’t want to be trapped in the soothing, warm heat and quiet of my Land Rover with him. I didn’t want a thousand opportunities to inquire about his meeting with his sister or grill him about his obvious upset.
When we got back to the Victorian, I dumped my bag on the table near the door in the hallway and hung up my coat. I went upstairs to change, leaving Max pacing the hall downstairs. I came back in jeans and a white sweater to find him traveling around the kitchen, touching the counters and tabletop in a loop like that was soothing him somehow.
“Peel potatoes,” I said, because I couldn’t stand to see him wandering aimlessly. I planned our dinner in my head fast and set him at the sink to do the job with everything he’d need. He watched me like he’d never cooked a day in his life as I peeled one potato as an example.
He was bad at the job, obviously didn’t know what the hell he was doing, but he made a good effort and didn’t complain. He was a good boy—and I wanted to praise him for his attempt, even though I shouldn’t.
Try as I might, I couldn’t ignore him. I came up behind him and rested my hands on his hips. He sucked in his breath as I squeezed him lightly. “You’re doing well. Try to get all of the skin off. Pay attention.”
Max shivered and I ate up the visible reaction to such simple praise. Heat rushed to my cock and it went chubby. I loved the anticipation that simmered in my gut, even though I had no intention of doing anything with Max. It would be nothing to lean forward and grind myself against him, but I didn’t. Only a few heartbeats later, though, he was back to looking worried, and though I’d ignored it all day, I couldn’t anymore. I took the potato peeler from his fingers and tossed it into the sink with a clatter.
“What did I do wrong?” he whispered.
The fear in his words hurt to hear, so I snagged his hand and directed him toward the table. He bit at his thumbnail as I dragged a chair out and sat down. I drew him in to sit sideways on my lap to the tune of a small gasp from him. He settled and leaned his shoulder against me, and his face pinked up as I clasped both my hands on his side, keeping him close. I loved the warmth of his body pressing me into the chair. He didn’t weigh a lot and was smaller than me, fitting just right in my arms.
“Tell me about it.”
He guarded his stomach with his hands and curled forward as much as he could in my embrace, staring at the floor.
“Max, tell me what’s wrong,” I whispered. “You were doing such a good job over there, and you did a fantastic job at the office today.”
He rested his head against my chest and a tremble went through him.
“The professor, the one who hadn’t answered me yet this morning?” he whispered.
“Yes?”
He let out something that sounded suspiciously like a sob. “She’s not letting me have time to catch up and fix things. I’m going to have to retake the class. I was already behind. That’s why I had to do this semester online.” He turned and pushed his forehead against my shoulder. “I have to have this class to graduate. I’ll have to tell my parents.”
Humming while I thought, I tightened my grip on him and rubbed a hand up and down along his side, enjoying his slight curves, until he unclenched a little. “You did a good job of trying to fix that mistake,” I whispered into his ear, because I believed he had, and also because he needed to hear it.
He trembled and turned his face, resting his cool forehead against my neck. The move reminded me of how shy he’d been last night when I’d shoved that enema tip into his asshole. There was no reason he should have given me that amount of unquestioning trust, but he had, and I’d be the worst kind of person if, after everything, I wasn’t at least as kind with him as I could be when he was obviously vulnerable.
Fucking hell.I kissed his hair and cuddled him closer, offering my support. Fury clawed inside my chest and I had to force myself not to squeeze him too hard. I wanted to intercede on his behalf, call the school, help him, guide him, fix this for him. I ran my hand along his back and another slight quiver ran through his body.
“Is that the entire problem?”
