“So… you’re not…?”
“No! God, no. Me and Sam? No. He’s a nice guy. Sexy as hell, but—”
Tiller’s nostrils flared. “No need to elaborate.”
“You don’t find him attractive?” I asked. Even though I knew Sam would never go there, I’d always wondered about Tiller.
Tiller shook his head. “First of all, he’s too damned quiet. Can’t ever tell what the man’s thinking. Secondly, he needs someone he can fuss over, someone to take care of. That’s not me. Third, he’s probably a top, and I probably am, too.”
I tried not to whimper with the confirmation Tiller liked to top. It had to be the meds that were loosening his tongue, because we’d never talked about our sexual preferences before. It was part of the boss/employee line we both tried never to cross.
“Well, too bad,” I said, shaking off my mental imagery of being topped by Tiller Raine. Hard. I cleared my throat. “I plan on fussing over you and taking care of you, so you’ll need to get on board.”
His lips turned into a slurry grin. “I like being babied by you, though. That’s different.”
“Well… good. Um…”
“What about you?” Tiller asked.
“What about me?”
He narrowed his eyes. “You and Sam.”
I shook my head more violently than necessary. “Nope. I love him. I do. But you remember how he was when I had my appendix out. He’s awful in an emergency, and I attract emergencies like you attract cheerleaders.” I bit my teeth together. Hadn’t meant to say that last part.
“There has to be another reason.”
I busied myself straightening up the two items on his side table. “He kissed me once, and it was just… meh.”
The silence was enough to make me look up. He was glaring at me like I’d said something offensive.
I threw up my hands. “What?”
“You and Sam. Kissing. Mpfh.”
The look in his eyes turned heated, and it made my stomach all squirrelly. “Oh, hey. Let’s get you out of here.” I bolted for the hallway, praying I could find a nurse or anyone who would release us from this oddball conversation and let us end this crazy day.
Thankfully, my dad had already greased the wheels and the nurses’ station was already processing his discharge.
When we finally got home, it was well after midnight. “Bed,” he murmured.
“Food first,” I said.
“Not hungry.” Tiller leaned heavily against me as I guided him into the house from the garage with an arm around his waist. He was a little unsteady from the pain meds they’d given him.
“Too bad. I’ll make something easy and quick. Sit here in the comfy chair.” I maneuvered him to the overstuffed chair in the sitting area of the kitchen before moving to the big Sub-Zero fridge.
“This is your chair.”
“Actually, it’s yours. I just use it.”
He shook his head and closed his eyes. “Nah. It’s yours. Can’t imagine anyone else sitting in it. I love coming home and seeing you curled up here. Makes me happy.”
“Stop being so sweet. Go back to being whatever stupid nickname your teammates use. Raine of fire? Raine down hell? Raine it in? Purple Raine?”
He snorted but didn’t open his eyes. “Purple Raine. Nice one. No sweet Raine?”
I shook my head emphatically even though he couldn’t see it. “Never. Not possible.”
“What’re you making me?”
I flicked on the gas stove and filled the pot from the built-in faucet over the range. “Protein spaghetti with garlic marinara.”
He didn’t say anything for a few moments. “I think food is how you love people.”
God dammit.
I bit the hell out of my lip before responding. “Nah. It’s just how I make my living.”
Tiller snorted. “I got a bridge to sell you.”
I got busy making enough spaghetti for both of us and then doubled it to make leftovers since it was another one of Tiller’s favorites.
If feeding people was my love language, Tiller was the most beloved human on earth. And I was in big fucking trouble.
Because I wanted him. I wanted him so fucking badly.
3
Tiller
“I will not watch one more episode of this bullshit,” I grumbled. “Benson should know by now to steel her heart against this shit. And if Peter doesn’t stop lecturing her like a child…”
Sam groaned.
“Where’s Mikey?” I asked, trying to haul my ass out of the recliner with only one good hand. “He promised we could get sushi tonight if I made it through five more episodes.”
Sam laughed. “Not sure it counts if you bitch about it the whole time.”
“Mike!” I called out.
“He’s not going to answer you if you yell for him like that. You know how much he hates being summoned with a raised voice. Don’t you think he had enough of that growing up?”
He played the guilt card. Jerk. It was bad enough I’d had to spend the afternoon trying hard not to picture the two of them kissing, but he’d also assisted me so much over the past couple of weeks, I couldn’t help but remember what a nice guy he was. And he was protective as hell of Mikey which I had to appreciate.
I shuffled into the kitchen from the theater room and found Mikey sitting at the island scribbling in a notebook. His dark-framed glasses had slipped down his nose, and his eyebrows were furrowed in concentration.
“What’re you working on?” I asked, going to the fridge to get out the pitcher of lemonade.
He stood up and pushed me toward a chair. “Sit. I’ll get it.”
“I’m not an invalid, you know,” I said with annoyance. “I can pour it with one hand.”
“Yes. Yes, you can. And you can spill it like you did the jelly beans you must have had someone sneak in behind my back. We’re going to be stepping on those fuckers for weeks.”
“Never mind that. Can we please have sushi?”
He slid a menu over to me. “Take this in and ask Sam what he wants. His boyfriend is going to pick it up on his way over.”
“Boyfriend? Sam? Who? Not you.” Why did I sound like a Dr. Seuss book all of a sudden?
Mikey craned his neck to make sure Sam was still safely locked away in the theater room. “He’s been seeing someone a couple of weeks. We don’t like him,” he whispered. “He’s high-maintenance and a total dick.”
I looked down the hall again before turning to Mikey and matching his whisper. “Why is he with him? And why is he coming to our house if we don’t like him?”
Mikey shot me a look. “Because we like Sam, and Sam likes Rico.”
“Rico?” I asked way too loudly. Mikey waved his hands through the air as he shushed me. “Rico Moreno? The guy who cleans our fucking pool? Sam’s dating the pool boy?”
Mikey rolled his eyes. “Apparently he gives good head. Drop it. Let the poor guy get past his dry spell before encouraging him to brush the guy off.”
“How do you know about his dry spell and how good the pool boy sucks dick?”