TONY dove into his work, trying not to think about Brandon being down the hall. The kid was cute, he’d give him that easily. In a Tom Cruise-meets-Russell Crowe kind of way, shorter but sizzling. He was shorter than Devyn had been.
He paused, his hands over the keyboard as he worked on a proposal reply. Why was he comparing him to Devyn? He wasn’t interested in Brandon. He was too young, nine years too young.
Like that stopped us, came the sultry purr from the depths of his mind.
Tony blinked, absolutely frozen in place. “Devyn?”
Nothing.
Grimacing, he faced the computer, ignoring the sudden vibration of a voice he hadn’t heard in two years. Devyn had been nearly thirteen years older than the wet-behind-the-ears college freshman he’d been when they’d met. They'd been the odd couple. Tony was driven but needed guidance and direction. Devyn was established in a sales career and had settled down but was alone and had stopped playing the field when a previous boyfriend asserted a bit too much of a possessive edge in their relationship. At first, Devyn had been Tony’s mentor, a firm shove to get the still-maturing Tony into gear and motivated.
Tony had been fighting growing feelings for Devyn for weeks. They were friends, and Devyn was older. And a friend like no one else. Supportive and caring. Listening when it was needed and metaphorically slapping him when he couldn’t see the end of his nose through his own stupidity. They worked well off each other from almost the first word.
Their first kiss…. Tony sighed, giving up on the computer before him for the moment. It had been… magic. He hadn’t been sure who had been more shocked, him or Devyn. They’d been friends a few months when, sitting on the couch, they’d simply both fallen silent, neither remembering what the other was saying nor caring as their eyes locked.
Tony had no memory of who moved first, but they had come together like it was simply the next step. Devyn had tugged, Tony had teetered, and both had sunk to the couch with Devyn worming beneath Tony’s body like a contented puppy, burrowing against his heat.
And into his heart.
Sassy and smart had been Devyn. Sweetness and steel.
Tony’s head sagged to the back of his chair, his eyes closing. Miss you so much, sweetheart. Why did you have to leave me?
Just like the many other times he’d asked, there was no answer.
Together, they’d started the press, which had always been Tony’s dream, Devyn a silent partner for advice and marketing. Devyn rose in his own right in high-profile sales, which allowed them to expand and bend as the publishing world morphed on a nearly daily basis. They’d bought the house because Devyn had loved the pool. He loved being able to swim naked, and Tony wasn’t going to deny him the small pleasures. Like jelly beans. The memory warmed Tony.
Devyn had been a wall of strength, or really just a man who refused to let life dominate him. He wound up teaching Tony a lot. Devyn was the least selfish person Tony had ever had the good fortune to know.
The very last thing Tony had thought of had been of losing Devyn. He cradled his face in a palm, pressing into his eyes. The memory had dulled, but it was still there, still painful after two years.
His cell phone had rung. “West TonDe Press. Tony Teagan speaking.”
“Mr. Teagan? This is Dr. Lloyd at Sisters of Mercy Hospital. Devyn Rolls has you as an emergency contact.”
The doctor’s tone was dry, too even, and Tony’s heart lurched. “I am. What happened to Devyn?”
“He was brought into the ER suffering chest pains at two this afternoon. I’m sorry, Mr. Teagan.”
“What? Where is he?” Tony vaulted out of his chair, his chest pinched as he battled to breathe.
“Please come to the hospital at your first convenience. Ask for me.”
Tony barely understood, but he hung up and rocketed out of the office.
And that was the beginning of the nightmare that was the end of his world. It took months to come back to reality, and slowly, he’d found his footing without the man who’d been his best half.
A few minutes passed before he wiped his eyes clear and gazed blearily around his office. The tinted window looked out onto the quiet side street. The main doors in the front lobby area were their public entrance.
Numbly, he opened the top drawer of his desk and withdrew the only picture frame. He had moved on. Almost. Nothing could fill the crater losing Devyn had made, but he was moving, living, breathing, and mostly happy.
Don’t give up.
Tony’s fingers clenched on the frame. That time he knew it was Devyn’s voice. Whether it was really him or his subconscious mind, he had no way to know, but it still made him pause.
What was Devyn getting at?
A soft tap on his door had him swiveling to look in that direction. Brandon stood there, a hesitant anxiousness in his eyes, as though he knew he was interrupting something private. He lowered his arm from where he’d tapped the frame with a knuckle. “Ralph is done with me.”
Tony returned the picture and shut the drawer. “And?”
“If you were serious about the money and time, I want to give it a try.”
“Good.” Tony smiled, glad to see Brandon’s expression lighten. No doubt he’d been caught in his thoughts. He stood from behind his desk. “Let’s get what papers you need from Clara and you can fill them out.”
BRANDON pushed his economics text into his backpack and stood from his desk when the professor released them. A vibration from his phone tickled his hip and he pulled it out of a pocket as he walked through the classroom doorway.
Fitness trainer @ 3. R. His workout reminder.
Brandon groaned. Tony hadn’t told him about this part of it. Ralph wanted Brandon sleeked up a little, not a lot, but healthier-looking. Classwork and delivery driving wasn’t exactly conducive to a trim frame.
He texted a quick ok in answer. “Oh fun,” he muttered.
Brandon had been abused by the trainer for a few weeks already, but Ralph was OCD when it came to scheduling. No way was anyone missing an appointment. It’s probably why when a model had been late the day he’d walked in to see Tony, Ralph had gone postal.
One thing he was getting was more sleep without working two jobs, which was helping him with his classes and studying. Even though he’d only stood for a few portfolio shots, Tony was paying him for his time. Brandon knew he didn’t have to but wasn’t about to argue over getting money to pay his bills.
Arriving at the gym, he did a double take when he swore he spotted Tony’s Crossfire in the parking lot.
He showed his pass—another perk from West TonDe—to the guy at the counter, then strolled absently to the locker room to change. Checking lockers, he found an empty one and dumped his crap into it. Once he’d changed, he grabbed a towel and locked the panel, tugging once on the lock before heading out for the coming hour of abuse.
Brandon’s gaze wandered along the mirror, only to drag to a screeching stop when he spotted Tony. His throat tightened as his mouth went dry.
Tony was deep into his own headspace, tugging on the bands that pulled iron deadweight from overhead in a forward push. Tony wasn’t thick, but the strain of muscle beneath slick skin was impossible to ignore. He straddled the bench, thighs and calves clenching and relaxing in a timed rhythm as he worked his chest.
The thin workout shirt he wore was soaked, as was his dark hair. Brandon noticed the way the damp strands tightened into little spirals at the back of his head. He bet if Tony let it grow out, it would be a rich fall of curls.
“He’s a sexy thing, isn’t he?” a quiet voice said at Brandon’s shoulder.
“Hey, Leonard.” Brandon bit his lip, unsure of how much he should admit to lusting for his boss.
“Come on.” A tug on his shorts waist had Brandon following obediently. “Time to get those buns of steel.”
“But I like mine covered in sugar and cinnamon,” he playfully whined.
Leonard hooted under his breath. “Now I can see why Ralph wants to work with you so badly. You’re fun.” He patted the slant bench. “Up you go. Butterflies to warm up.”
Brandon obeyed for the next hour, sweating and quietly bitching as the workout got tougher. Muscles that were rarely used cursed him profoundly. But Brandon wasn’t going to complain. He was seeing an improvement. The constant prodding and direction from Leonard also derailed his fascination for the gorgeous stud across the room.
Every now and then, he snagged a glimpse of Tony moving or adjusting on another machine. He wondered what he was doing at the gym during the day. Brandon knew his heart and soul were in TonDe.
“I understand he’s single,” Leonard whispered.
“He’s my boss,” Brandon quipped right back. He straightened on the seat, ready to start rowing.
“So? You’re both human. I’d go for him, but my stud would have a fit.”
“Oh? Who’s your stud?”
Leonard waved over a shoulder. “Thomas.”
“No way!” Brandon’s eyes widened at the hunk beating the snot out of a hanging bag. “The boxer?”
“He’s retired now. Only trains, but yeah.” Leonard sighed happily. “Six years.”
“That’s awesome. So is this a mostly gay gym?”
Leonard nodded. “People who come here are serious. I think that’s why so many like it here. They can zone out and not feel pressured.” Leonard adjusted the length for Brandon’s stretch at his feet. “How’s that?”
He pushed. “Good.”
“Okay, three of ten. Go.”
Brandon gritted his teeth and dove headfirst into approved physical torture.
“GOOD workout,” Leonard told him, handing Brandon the towel he had waiting for him.
He clasped the white terry in a shaking hand, wanting to collapse to the ground. “Good workout? Code for ‘it’s okay to die now’, right?” He felt positively wilted.
Leonard laughed. “Go hit the hot tub for ten, then steam for fifteen.” He gave Brandon a kind push. “Trust me, he’s been looking too,” Leonard whispered just before Brandon walked off.
Doubt it. Probably making sure his latest investment was going to pay off. Tony was a good guy, but Brandon had no illusions either how he was regarded.
TONY couldn’t help himself. Everywhere he turned, there was Brandon with Leonard. It wasn’t a conscious effort to be there during Brandon’s time with the trainer. He’d just wanted to work some tightness and stress out of his system. The stress was gone; the tightness had merely migrated to another part of his anatomy. Brandon was remarkable, with a full head of blended chocolate and deep copper-penny-red hair. He grew it long, to his shoulders, in a beachy, surfer kind of look, and from that first moment standing in his doorway, Tony had been stunned by his eyes. A rich, darker-than-honey brown and gray color that sparkled like topaz. There might have even been green in them. All Tony knew was they were like looking into the window of an ageless soul.
The workouts were really beginning to help define his youthful physique as well. Sadly, that was exactly what Tony’s libido had noticed during today’s workout.
Tony had to sit on his bench, hunched over, willing his body to behave before he could stand. Glancing up, he caught Leonard and Brandon sharing a quick laugh, then Leonard gave a pat on Brandon’s shoulder before Brandon left for the locker room.
Where Brandon would be changing. Naked.
A tremor rocked Tony. He gazed after Leonard as he walked up behind the guy at the hanging punch bag and whispered into his ear. Both smiled. Tony didn’t know for sure if they were together, but the light touches hinted they were.
He knew about Leonard from Ralph and that he was a good trainer, attentive to his clients. He knew Ralph wouldn’t use him if he wasn’t worth the fee.
Maybe just to be sure Brandon was safe, he should come with him the next time he was scheduled at the gym. If Leonard was a player, then it was his duty to make sure Brandon wasn’t on his radar. He took care of his writers and his staff. His models were no different in that.