“Basically.” Carver clenched his jaw. “He made it very clear thatyourhappiness matters more than me. That if I pissedyouoff, I’d be out on my ass. And I made my arrangement with Roger because I am okay with that. He also made it clear that you’ve got some kind of panic hang-up with affection stuff, and I promised not to push it. I mean, before I assumed you froze up when I flirted with you because you were having a hard timebeing gay, so I was kicking myself. I thought if I just kept putting myself out there, you’d eventually come around.
“But it turns out you’re a fucking insecure jerk who would rather throw insults and choke on the bile his family force-fed him than open his goddamn eyes and see that there’s a whole fucking world out there for the taking if he just played the fucking cards he’s been dealt.” Carver lowered his sunglasses, and his frown grew deeper. “And you have been dealt a fucking amazing hand. Clever, intense, and sexy. You’re a goddamn dream, except your fucking attitude turns you into a freaking nightmare, and I don’t get howyou’rewhat Roger wants. Except, seeing you with Blake and Kit just now? I realize you’re not an asshole to everyone. Just tome, and that fuckingsucks.”
In the middle of Carver’s speech, Zack puffed up, ready to unleash his own rant at him about how off base he was and how he knew nothing about him. But as he watched Carver’s face, he spotted the tears starting to form in the corners of his eyes and the deepening of his frown. He was holding back a sadness.
While Carver had come on strong, he’d never been mean. He was confident, or at least he seemed that way, but Zack had picked up crumbs of rumors. Another master had dropped him. He’d been working the donor house, but no one had claimed him, and Zack had never bothered to find out why. Reed had told him that people like Carver were always chasing their next meal ticket, and he’d written Carver off as a fang lover and a headache to endure.
But what had he seen Carver do? Flirt with him. Express interest in Roger. Ask how he could be part of Roger’s group. Be open about his desires. Nothing that marked him as a bad guy. And here he was, upset that Zack had been cruel and almost crying about it. Either he was the best actor in the world or—I’ve been such a jerk.
“I’m sorry,” Zack said gently, deflating as he did.
Carver blinked at him, but his frown eased a little. “That’s all you got for me?”
Zack shoved his hand through his hair. “Come on, man. Can you cut me some slack?”
Carver folded his arms over his chest. The tears in his eyes seemed to be stopping before they actually started. “Maybe.”
“We’re not on a level where I’m going to bare my soul to you,” Zack replied. “But I promise no more bullshit. And no more insults—did I say more than one? The night’s a little blurry for me in some spots.”
“You made a few comments under your breath,” Carver said. “Most of them were too slurred to understand.”
Zack rubbed the back of his neck. “I am never drinking again.”
With a snort, Carver unfolded his arms and patted Zack on the shoulder. “You weren’t that bad. I know you’re the top of the pecking order, but I didn’t want you to push me around. So I had to say something.”
“I needed the reality check,” Zack said. “Sorry we didn’t include you in the tacos.”
“Eh, I ordered room service. There’s way too much of it since I got some for you guys. Didn’t know you’d already ate. Thought I’d surprise you,” Carver said.
“Aw, man. I’m just the biggest asshole ever.”
Carver grinned and tousled Zack’s hair. “I’m messing with you. I saw you guys out here before I ordered.”
“Keep digging at me and I’m going to bite back,” Zack joked.
“Promise to bite somewhere fun?” Carver teased.
Heat crawled up Zack’s neck. “Not today.”
As Carver walked backward toward the sliding glass door, he slid his sunglasses into a pocket and continued to smile at him. “But maybe someday, huh?”
Was there any harm in having a bit of fun? Everything else was shitty. Zack could try to relax just a little. He laughed and shook his head as he followed Carver into the suite. “Sure.Maybe. If you’re lucky.”
CHAPTER 11
Roger stretched one arm over his head and leaned against the doorframe leading into the master bathroom. His red silk shirt was coming untucked, but he could always fix it before they left. The way Zack’s gaze darted to his hip to steal a glance of his bare skin was worth having to readjust his clothing later. When he’d woken, Zack was already out of bed and in the living room with Kit and Carver. He’d been freshly sweaty from a workout, which had sparked Roger’s hunger.
Roger had gotten dressed, brushed his long black hair and pulled half of it into a loose ponytail to keep it out of his face, and changed his gold stud earring for a hoop. He’d taken his time with each step to allow his focus to distract him from his growing thirst and a burning desire to do more than taste Zack’s skin in a kiss.
The humid air carried the lingering scents of Zack’s sandalwood shampoo and soap. He stood at the sink, towel wrapped around his hips and shaving cream across his jaw and cheeks. After sneaking a peek at Roger, he stroked down his cheek with his razor.
“Why am I always the one waiting for you to finish getting ready?” Roger mused.
“Because it takes you like a decade to grow a beard,” Zack replied.
“I would have stubble in a week.”
“Yeah, well, I get it every day, and I haven’t done this without a mirror before.” Zack swore and dropped his razor into the sink. “Ow, fuck.”
