“Zanetti,” Bellamy Jordan, one of Sandro’s teammates, called from the townhouse he shared with their team captain down the street. “Want a lift to the arena?”
“Give me a minute,” Sandro called back. “You.” He poked Bennett in the chest. “What the fuck?”
“Okay, look, I know we haven’t talked about this.” Bennett waved between them. “And I know I should’ve talked to you before I said anything to David, but . . . the way you kissed me earlier, and . . . just . . .” He couldn’t get his thoughts in order. Between their past and their present and the way Sandro had clung to his hand on the way to Tobermory as if Bennett was the only thing keeping him afloat . . . it was all jumbled together in his head. Raking his hands back through his hair, he growled, “I’m compromised, okay? This—” He waved between them again. “Compromises me. There are ethics to consider, and?—”
“Oh, shut up.”
Bennett was startled enough by Sandro’s vehemence to shut right up.
“I know about the ethics, okay?” Hands on his hips, Sandro’s eyes blazed. “I considered them myself. I’ve been meaning to talk to you about that, but I keep putting it off because . . .” He swallowed, his throat clicking audibly. “Because what if David sends you away?”
What if . . . David sent him away? But. . .
Oh. Oh. Sandro wasn’t mad that Bennett had told David about them. Or he was, but not for the reason Bennett thought.
Sandro was worried David would take him off the project and he’d disappear from his life again.
Fifteen years ago repeating itself.
Relief hit, making Bennett’s vision swim. Bennett reached for him. “Baby?—”
“Zanetti!” Dabbs now, tapping his watch as he stood next to his car in his driveway. “Go get your suit on and let’s go.”
“Give me one goddamn minute!” Sandro yelled back. Grabbing Bennett’s face in both hands, he kissed him hard. “We’ll finish talking about this later.”
“Yes. We’ll talk about all of it.”
Bennett needed to finally tell Sandro about his rookie season, and as if Sandro read that desperation on his face, he nodded once. “All of it,” he agreed. Then he jogged into the house.
Bennett looked over at Dabbs and Bellamy where they were leaning against Dabbs’ SUV. One of them was eyeing him with concern—Dabbs. And the other with amusement—Bellamy.
Dabbs jerked a thumb over his shoulder. “You want a lift too?”
Bennett shook his head. He needed to stop by his townhouse before heading to the arena.
He had no reason to linger, but he did anyway, standing out in the cold with his hands in his coat pockets. At least it wasn’t raining here.
He was rewarded a couple of minutes later with Sandro striding out of the house in a tan suit that didn’t match the cold winter season. The pants were a slim-fit and hugged his long legs. The blazer hit him at crotch-level, accentuating his package. He’d paired the outfit with brown shoes and a white shirt, no tie.
Jesus, he was gorgeous.
Sandro winked at him as he came down his walkway. “Think your mom will like this one better?”
“I like it better,” Bennett admitted.
Sandro laughed, squeezing Bennett’s wrist on his way past. “Come over after?”
“Count on it.”
chapter fifteen
The way you kissed me earlier . . .
Sandro had gotten his points across, it turned out. Thank you and I appreciate you and never go away again. Maybe a little too well, because Bennett had solidified his commitment to him by outing them to his producer.
Sandro would be feeling all warm and fuzzy about that if Bennett hadn’t also signed his own ticket out of town. Surely David would send Bennett away to work on a project in, like, Japan or something, and that would be that.
Scratch that, he was definitely all warm and fuzzy, but the glow of happiness was mixed with fear.
