The mood shattered into a million pieces.
Cal froze, his forehead resting against mine, his breathing ragged. “I am going to kill him,” he whispered with deadly seriousness. “I am actually going to murder Evan fucking Wilder.”
“He’s not leaving,” I hissed, panic replacing the passion instantly. “He’s actually going to get a maid.”
“Let him,” Cal mumbled, trying to kiss me again. “I don’t care.”
“Kincaid! We have a lobby call in twenty minutes! And Silas isn’t answering his phone, which means he’s either dead or he’s the little spoon!”
“Oh my god,” I groaned, scrambling out from under Cal. “I’m hiding.”
Cal sat back on his heels, frustrated and disheveled, a lazy, wicked grin spreading across his face as he watched me panic. “You’re what?”
“I’m hiding! I can’t deal with him right now.” I grabbed my jeans from the floor, hopping on one leg to get them on. “I can’t face him after—after that!”
I bolted for the bathroom.
“Si, you are a grown ass man!” Cal called after me, laughing. “You can’t hide in a bathroom!”
“Watch me!” I slammed the door and locked it, pressing my back against the wood, breathing hard, my heart still racing from the confession and the interruption.
I heard Cal groaning as he got off the bed. “I’m coming, I’m coming! Stop trying to break the damn door down, Wilder!”
I heard the latch click, and the door swung open.
“Well, good morning, sunshine,” Evan’s voice chimed. “You look… well rested. And partially nude.”
“I was sleeping. What do you want, Evan?” Cal asked, sounding way too relaxed for a man standing in sweatpants and nothing else, especially considering what we were doing thirty seconds ago.
“I’m looking for the only thing we have in common and he’s MIA and not in his room,” Evan stated flatly.
“Maybe he went for a run,” Cal lied effortlessly.
“A run,” Evan repeated. “Without his phone? Which is currently lighting up on the coffee table right there?”
Damn it.
“We hit the gym last night,” Cal pivoted, his voice smooth. “And I found his phone when I got back, it just got mixed in with my stuff.”
“Ah. The gym,” Evan drawled. “Right.”
There was silence.
“Also,” Evan continued, the sound of cardboard cups hitting the table echoing in the room. “I brought three coffees. Don’t insult my intelligence, Cal. I know my friends.”
“So,” Evan continued. “Where is he? Actually, hold on…”
There was a pause. I could practically feel Evan’s eyes scanning Cal. Then, a low, impressed whistle.
“Damn, Kincaid. I didn’t know the ‘gym’ had claws. Because you look like a scratching post.”
“Shut up,” Cal said, but I could hear the smirk in his voice.
“No, seriously. Look at your hips. I assume this ‘gym session’ involved a lot of… grappling? Naked grappling?”
“It was a heavy lift,” Cal deadpanned.
“I bet,” Evan laughed. “Looks like your spotter topped you like a cheap whore.”
