“Definitely,” I admit, grateful to return to the broader topic.
He wiggles his fingers. “Give me the deets.”
I make a circling gesture with my finger, pointing at him. “Men who look . . . manly.”
“You don’t like feminine men?”
“I don’t. I like the masculine form. Strong legs, muscles, some chest hair and roughness and . . .” I sigh contentedly because this next one is my Achilles’ heel. “Stubble.” I hum low in my throat, getting lost in my happy place. “Love stubble. That is my favorite thing. I love what you have going on here,” I say, gesturing to his jaw, stretching my hand across the table to stroke his face.
He murmurs as I touch him. “I like that too. But I also find women beautiful. Just intrinsically. The female form.” He arches a questioning brow as I let go of him. “You really don’t care? You sure?”
“Others have cared? That’s why you’re asking?”
“Yes. Others have.” His eyes are etched with vulnerability, with a worry that his orientation could be an issue for me.
I take another bite of my food, then set the fork down. I level with him. “I like you just the way you are, Stone,” I say, and the man’s grin lights up the city.
It could power the entire Strip.
Maybe the whole damn state.
“You do?”
“I do.” I mean it, and I want him to know how deeply. I don’t want to change him. The man is who he is. “If we were a thing, I wouldn’t have an issue with your identity. What difference does it make if you’re gay and only attracted to men? What difference does it make if you’re bi and attracted to men and women? There’s zero difference. I’m not going to be more jealous because you might be attracted to one hundred percent of people versus fifty percent of people. It’s my job to satisfy you in and out of the bedroom, and it’s your job to be faithful.”
He sits up straight. “I would. That’s not an issue.”
I reach for his hand, reassuring him. “I know. I wasn’t saying it is. I’m simply saying that’s all that matters. I wouldn’t worry about the fact that part of your identity is being attracted to women as well as men. That doesn’t bother me. I mean, I’m not into women. I’m not going to have a threesome with you. I’m not going to share you with anyone—man or woman. But that’s me. That’s how I’m wired. I don’t share. But, if you were mine, I’d damn well make it my job and my pleasure to make sure you were happy with me and me alone.”
I swallow a little roughly, wondering why I just put that out there like that. But it’s hypothetical. Totally hypothetical.
Stone sets down his fork, his gaze meeting mine, a sharp breath slipping from his lips. “If we were a thing, I wouldn’t want you to worry about me straying or wanting anyone else. That’s why I asked if it bothered you. I like to look, but I’d never touch. Ever. When I’m with you, J, I’m more than satisfied,” he says, squeezing my hand, his eyes locking with mine and shimmering with something besides desire.
Something deeper.
Something more powerful.
Something that feels like all I could need.
That’s the scary thing. So much of what he’s giving me feels like all I need.
I’ve got to zero in on the moment. The food. That’s it. I point at the plate. “Let’s eat before it gets cold. You’ve got a packed day.”
He wiggles his brow. “And a packed night?”
“Maybe. If you play your cards right.”
“I always play them right. And then tomorrow you’re going to the game with me?”
“Hawks versus Renegades?”
“Hello? Sunday? Private suite. Don’t tell me you forgot?”
A grin tugs at my lips. Nothing better than football in a private suite. “I did forget.”
“Terrence went the other week. It’s your turn. Come with me. You like football, don’t you?”
“Love it.”
“Good, because Zane and my grandma are going too, and so is Nadia.”
I’m going to meet his grandmother tomorrow. I try to hide a grin at how happy that makes me. So happy that I need some time away from him today so I don’t let on how much I like it.
I leave the room a little later and say goodbye to Terrence. I tell him what I’ve been doing—not the specifics, of course, but the general gist, because I respect the guy too much to keep it secret.
“Can I just say not surprised? Not surprised at all.”
“You and Cruz have been reading from the same script,” I say with a shake of my head.
Terrence gives me a sly grin. “Or maybe you’re transparent.”
What can I say to that? “Seems I am.”
Terrence gives me a reassuring nod. “I’ve got your back.”
“Thanks, man.”
When I reach my room, I call my sister on FaceTime. As soon as she answers, I pick up where I left off the last time we talked.
Biting off the truth.
“I’m seeing Stone. It’s secret and all. It’s not going to last beyond a week. I don’t know what to say, except it feels like the best thing that’s happened to me in a long time.”
That admission scares the hell out of me.
“Oh, Jackson.” Her face goes sweet and melty.
I sink onto the bed, dragging a hand over my neck, a knot of tension cropping back up. “I don’t know what to do.”
“Just let yourself enjoy something for once. You deserve all the good things.”
I shake my head, my throat tightening. “It can’t end well.”
“You don’t know that.” She flashes me a supportive grin, but it’s the kind that says I’m hosed.
“I do. And you know it too.”
“But why not? Why can’t it?” Hope springs eternal in youth.
I slump back against the pillows, holding the screen in front of me. “Because he’s a rock star. Because I’m his bodyguard. Because he’s the boss and I’m his employee. We are just a ship. A silly little fantasy affair. That is all.”
“Do you believe that?”
“What I believe doesn’t matter. That’s the reality. Things like this—they’re fairy tales. There’s no way a guy like him, who’s never been in love, who likes to play the field, who loves to have a good time, is going to wind up with anyone.”
She twirls a strand of her hair, screws up the corner of her lips, then meets my gaze. “But do you want to wind up with him?”
My chest clenches. Tension whips through my whole body. “That’s not the point.”
“Seems like it might be,” she offers. “Are you wanting more?”
More. Is that what I want?
I barely have to ask to know the answer. It came this morning in the way I felt waking up with him.
I do want more.
“If he wasn’t my boss, if this wouldn’t compromise my career, then yes.” I breathe heavily but feel a little lighter. Getting that off my chest helps, though it doesn’t solve the problem.
“Will it compromise your career?”
“Who is going to hire me if this gets out? When Stone’s done with this fling, whether I have a job with him or not, who would hire me?”