“Good,” he said. Then, because he could tell sleep was coming for him and he wanted to tell him when he was soft and easy, before his walls went back up, “Can we try that again? I can take it. Wanna take all of you.”
Noah’s arms tightened possessively around his torso. “I know you can, baby. We can work up to it.”
He pressed a soft kiss into Benji’s hair. Any lingering worries about Noah being secretly frustrated about Beni safewording faded to nothing.
Benji floated, safe and held. Not asleep, just… at peace. A peace that he’d never known before Noah had pressed him down into this very bed. A peace Benji would never know again when Noah eventually left.
But that thought felt very far away as he lay in Noah’s arms, both of them breathing in time.
Noah’s phone vibrated on the nightstand. Benji was so close to sleep that he barely noticed it.
Then it vibrated again.
And again.
“Shut up,” Noah told it, reaching over to silence it.
Benji waited, eyes closed, for Noah to lie back down.
Noah didn’t move. Benji forced his eyes open, about to ask what the problem was.
Then he saw Noah’s face. His jaw was tight, his eyes wide as he stared down at his phone.
Benji sat up. “What is it?”
“Nothing,” Noah said quickly.
The peace started trickling from Benji in tiny drips. “Seriously. What is it?”
Noah hesitated. Then he handed him the phone.
It was a text from Michael. One sentence.
You fucking idiot, it said.
The next message had a link. It led to an article posted forty-five minutes ago on a national news site: SMITTEN BILLIONAIRE PAYS FOR SEX WORKER’S HOTEL ROOM AFTER DRUG-RELATED EVICTION. Underneath it was a candid of Benji and Noah kissing in front of Benji’s car. Benji recognized the scene: this photo was taken in an underground parking lot near the hotel. Noah had been about to help Benji take his suitcase up. Max had gone ahead. Noah had pulled Benji aside, given him a long, sweet kiss, and assured Benji that everything was going to be okay.
For a second, Benji had almost believed him.
“Benji,” Noah started. “Everything’s?—”
Benji shushed him, scrolling. An “inside source” had confirmed he was a sex worker. The anonymous source continued,“Caulfield's a selfish ass and a real opportunist. Hope it’s just a financial decision. If it isn’t, Stern’s going to get his heart broken.”
CHAPTER 13
In typical fashion, Michael showed up to work two hours late.
He had a plastic cup of coffee, and his tie was askew. His hair looked like it hadn’t seen conditioner in days, let alone oil. But he still had that winning Stern smile as he slipped into the meeting room.
“I’m here,” he declared, settling into the seat across from Noah. “What are we talking about, Ford?”
Ford Fordson looked awkwardly at Noah. He was standing in front of the projection screen, outlining a deal that would’ve gone a lot easier if their CEO had bothered to answer an email once in a while.
The room was silent. Everybody was waiting for Noah to indicate whether Ford should go over it all again or if they should keep going. Usually, Noah just kept going. But not today.
“Everybody out,” he said. “I need to talk to my brother.”
Nobody moved. Noah wasn’t the kind of guy who barked commands. Noah was all polite smiles and handshakes, remembering people’s names and asking after their pets. If he had something he wanted you to do, he’d ask nicely.
