“Is this your office?” I ask stupidly.
Talon smiles. “It’s my home.”
He places my duffel bag on top of his rolling suitcase, grabs the handle, and puts his other hand at the small of my back, guiding me forward toward the revolving door.
A man in the lobby smiles at Talon.
“Mr. Devereaux, welcome home.”
“Steve, good to see you.” Nodding at me, Talon says, “Steve, this is my boyfriend, Zeke. Zeke, Steve is the most incredible doorman in the state of New York. If you forget the code, need directions, or a cab, Steve is your man.”
It’s still so fucking surreal, hearing Talon call me his boyfriend. I’m not sure I’ll ever get used to it.
“It’s nice to meet you,” I tell the man with a smile.
“You too, Mr. Zeke.”
There’s a front desk in the lobby, as if this were a hotel, and Talon leads me to it.
“Mr. Devereaux! Welcome home,” a flamboyant man in a beautiful scarf says as he leans across the counter to air-kiss Talon’s cheeks.
“André, always a pleasure.”
“Your sister has been in and out quite a bit. I wouldn’t be surprised if she redecorated your entire space while you were gone,” he says in an accent that might be French.
“Neither would I,” Talon laughs and then dives into more introductions. “André, this is my boyfriend, Zeke Hastings. He’s to have full access to my penthouse.” He rattles off my phone number to the man and then looks at me. “What do you want your four-digit lock code to be?”
Smiling, I answer, “zero-nine-one-five.”
He smiles back at me before kissing my cheek. “That might be kind of obvious, but we’ll go with it for now.”
As André sets up my code to Talon’spenthouse—Dear God,I’m so far out of my element here—he asks in a mildly pouty tone, “Mr. Devereaux, how have I known you for six years and never known…this?” He waves a hand toward me, clearly indicating that I’m a guy.
A lighthearted laugh rips through Talon’s throat.
“If it makes you feel any better, I’ve known me forthirty-twoyears, and I just found out myself.”
André looks at me and purses his lips with a sigh.
“I don’t know how you did it, but I can tell you every single man and woman, and probably a fair number of married people, in New York willallbe crying when this hits the news. Mr. Christian is our most dreamy bachelor.”
“Oh, stop,” Talon says.
“It’s true,” André says with a shrug before turning back to me. “And you’re all set. If you have any problems, just swing back by the front desk. On second thought, swing back by anyway. I have questions,” he says with a wink.
“Thank you, André. He won’t be back by,” Talon says, making me laugh as we move toward the elevators.
Inside, there is no button labeledPHlike I thought there would be. Instead, Talon hits the button for the twenty-second floor and then types in his own code. A star with a button lights up in the bottom corner.
“It’s like trying to gain access to Fort Knox,” I muse.
Talon’s hands land on my waist as he gently pushes me backward until I’m up against the back wall of the elevator. Nuzzling my neck, he says, “But better because once I type in that code, this elevator won’t stop until it reaches my penthouse.” Then he licks his way up my neck, causing me to shiver.
Talon is freer here, and I feel it in myself as well.
Derek can’t reach me here.
New York belongs to Talon and me.
