“Is he with you right now?” Holden asked sharply.
I dropped my head back against the headrest, a noisy exhale escaping. Bailey hadn’t told him. Holden wasn’t calling to fire me.
Yet.
“Well?” Holden pressed. “If he’s there?—”
“He’s not.”
“So what happened?”
“Maybe you should ask Bailey that.”
He huffed. “Sure, because my little brotheralwaystakes my calls when he knows he’s gonna get an earful. Just tell me I don’t have to worry about him, Flynn.”
“You don’t need to worry,” I said. “I helped him ice his black eye and gave him some painkillers. He drove back to campus.”
“You let himdriveall the way back there? What the fuck, Flynn?”
“He’s not my little brother,” I said shortly. “And he’s an adult. Holding him hostage would be illegal, and I’m already on fucking parole, Holden.”
That shut him up. Maybe too good. Shit. This man was still my boss.
I sighed. “Sorry. I didn’t sleep well. I shouldn’t have said that.”
“No, you’re right,” Holden said. “Bailey’s not a kid, and you’re not his keeper. Thank you for stopping the fight. You probably saved his ass.”
“Yeah, well, he’s not my brother, but he’s still…Bailey. You know?”
“Yeah,” Holden said, fondness seeping into his voice. “I know exactly what you mean.”
Well, probably not exactly. Because suddenly, that kiss was at the forefront of my mind. The softness of his lips, the brashness of his tongue. The way he’d gone for it, committing fully to kissing me without knowing I was even into guys.
It was reckless, maybe, but brave too.
If I hadn’t bumped his bruised eye, if he hadn’t winced, I might have gotten pulled into a deeper kiss. I might not have put on the brakes.
I could imagine it now. Laying Bailey out along the length of the sofa. Covering him with my body, holding up some of my weight so I didn’t crush him, but sinking down enough to mold us together. To know the firmness of his chest, the warmth and resilience of his muscle, the framework of the body that had drawn my gaze more than once.
I’d dip my head down, graze my nose along his neck, and just breathe him in…
“I should go, Flynn,” Holden said, shattering the fantasy.
I startled, immediately guilty. “Okay. Me too. I have to…”
“Yeah. Sorry for giving you shit about last night. I mean, ofcourseyou didn’t fuck around with him. You’re a good guy.”
He ended the call, and I pulled up my text stream with Bailey.
There was an old message there from last summer.
Bailey:
You killed it on that transmission today. Thanks for your help, Flynn.
Flynn:
Anytime.
