“Julian. Open up.”
Pounding louder than before, Jake also used the hotel suite’s doorbell. If Julian’s late checkout had anything to do with what was undoubtedly a hangover of epic proportions, noise was truly the Antichrist. “Come on, Julian, open the door.”
Julian finally did, but only a crack. “Jake,” he said, scanning his visitor up and down from behind the wall of his door. “I’m a little busy now. Come back for therapy about your woes with Kathryn another time.”
“Not a chance.”
“Talk it out with Kathryn. This is between you and her.” Indignant, Julian shut the door. His then engaging both the chain lock and the deadbolt were totally unnecessary.
Unamused, Jake wasn’t going to break the door down, though it crossed his mind. And he wasn’t about to scream through it like a drama queen. That was Julian’s job.
Instead, he lowered his voice. “You’ve got thirty seconds to let me in before I call the bank and claim my credit card was stolen.”
“You wouldn’t,” came muffled through the door.
Jake tugged out his phone and held it up to the peephole. “I’m calling now,” he said loudly, driving the point home with sadistic satisfaction.
“All right, all right,” Julian said through the door as he unlocked and cracked it open again. With a resigned huff, he mumbled, “Just . . . don’t judge.”
“Never,” Jake said, which might be a lie. After all, this was Julian. Hell, anything could be waiting for him behind that door.
Patiently waiting for the door to open enough he could step through, Jake pocketed his phone in the back of his jeans and repeated the words over and over in his head.
Don’t judge. Don’t judge. Don’t. Judge.
The door did eventually open enough so Jake could enter, but barely. Inside, Julian stood, shirtless and in a pair of jeans that couldn’t possibly be his. From the twisted angst on his face and each staggered huff, the waistband of the jeans had to be cutting off his circulation as well as his breathing.
Not sure he actually wanted the answer, Jake winced and asked the question with dread. “Are those Kathryn’s jeans?”
“You said you wouldn’t judge,” Julian snapped.
“I’m not judging.” Total lie. “Just asking a question.”
The words tumbled out at full speed. “I was only trying them on for a second to see if they would fit. Which they do.”
Jake snorted. “Obviously.”
“And then the zipper got stuck. I’ve worked this zipper harder than a hand around Ryan Gosling’s dick, but it’s no use. It’s locked in place like an alligator nipple clamp.”
Seeing Julian squeezed into Kathryn’s favorite jeans, Jake understood Julian’s predicament. “So, Kathryn might have let you live for trying on her jeans, but she’ll straight-up shank you if you do so much as look at them crossways with a pair of shears.”
“Exactly.” Julian huffed out several exaggerated breaths, then sucked in his gut. “Jake, this is a matter of life or limb. I can barely wiggle my toes.” He pressed his palms together in desperate prayer. “I know you have a switchblade somewhere on you, because you’re just the sort of rugged lumberjack that would. I’m begging you. Do your worst and set me free from this ungodly banana trap of a torture device.”
Smirking, Jake pulled the knife in question from his boot and flicked open the blade, lightly rubbing the scruff on his cheek with it, narrowing his eyes. “So, it’s okay if Kathryn murders me?”
“We both know you’re a dead man walking anyway.”
Death glares exchanged, Jake left the room, and Julian nearly had a heart attack.
“I can’t believe you’re leaving me, you heartless bastard!”
Jake returned from the bathroom, holding up a small bar of soap. “Heartless bastard?”
“I mean, thank you for not abandoning me in my time of need. You’re a saint.” Julian batted his eyes before grabbing the soap. With a look that clearly telegraphed you poor man, he pointed the soap at him. “This is where being a lumberjack is your downfall. If anything was gonna slick these pants off, it would be lube. But since I came here with Kathryn, I failed to adequately prepare.”
“It’s for the zipper. Bar soap is tried and true for releasing the teeth. Rub it on the zipper and pull.”
“Rub and pull. It’s like I was born ready.”
Eager to avoid watching Julian’s hand job, Jake made himself busy around the room.
“While you’re wandering around,” Julian called out, “see if you can find Kathryn’s phone.”
“Shouldn’t be difficult.” Jake spoke into his watch. “Locate kitten. Sound alarm.”
A muffled rendition of “Bad Girls” by Donna Summer was coming from the couch. Jake moved two pillows aside. Tucked in the corner of the sofa was Kathryn’s phone. Next to her engagement ring. As he picked it up, he heard a loud zzzip.
“Oh, thank God. I can breathe again. You’re a lifesaver. You and your amazing hacks for soap. What other penitentiary tricks do you have rolled up in those impressive sleeves?”
Jake didn’t turn to face him. He hardened his gaze, staring at the small piece of jewelry that represented his whole heart.
Julian stepped up next to him, his sharp gasp revealing he was as surprised to see the ring as Jake was. But instead of being compassionate or understanding, Julian snapped at him.
“Well, what do you expect?” Julian said, and when Jake scowled at him, he did the unthinkable, fiercely poking Jake straight in the chest. “You have been two-timing my best friend. And as grateful as I am for the use of your black card and the soap that unlocked my dick from that denim cock-cage, that is not okay. You hear me, Jake Russo? Not. Okay.”
“I would never cheat on Kathryn.”
“Well, I’ve already confirmed you’re not in a thruple, so why else would you buy an outrageous piece of jewelry for Andi?”
Jake jerked his head back. “Andi? I haven’t so much as bought that woman a stick of gum. Why would Kathryn think I bought anything for Andi?”
“Because the salesclerk at Hayes said you did.”
Julian was speaking, but the words weren’t registering.
Jake frowned at him. “Anthony said I bought jewelry for Andi?”
Nodding, Julian crossed his arms and tapped one foot, certain of himself. “He said you were with your partner, and described Andi to a T. Exhaustively descriptive about her espresso eyes and raven hair. Who even talks like that? Oh, and a gorgeous smile that only pales in comparison to the fucking necklace she apparently walked out of the store with.” Ending with a huff, Julian had made his point.
“First of all, the person sure as hell wasn’t my partner . . . well, not in that way. And what about the girl who abandoned her engagement ring? Flirted with her ex in front of me? Arranged to have dinner with him?”
“She’s having dinner with Carter Reeves? Wow . . . torturing herself to lash out at you. It’s like I’ve taught her nothing.” Julian slumped to the sofa. “None of this would have happened if you hadn’t been a d-bag.”
“I’m not a d-bag. The jewelry was for Kathryn.” Jake sat beside him, losing himself in the twinkle of the diamonds in the ring.
“Then why give it to Andi?”
“Oh, for the love of God, Julian. I was with Paco. Not Andi.”
“Paco?” Julian asked. “As in Paco Robles?”
Jake nodded as he slid the ring between the first and second knuckle of his pinky.
Sitting up and attentive, Julian leaned in. “So, Paco Robles . . . exists? All this time, I was pretty sure Kathryn made him up. From what she’s described, he’s a smoking-hot unicorn. I figured Paco was code for”—he curled his fingers in air quotes—“I need some me time. I mean, come on. Kathryn has two fabulous gay friends? Two fabulous gay friends who have never met each other? Inconceivable,” he said, mimicking Vizzini from The Princess Bride.
Jake looked over, the I don’t know what to tell you, man look blaring through. “Paco Robles is very much real. And believe it or not, Anthony described him perfectly. Espresso eyes. Raven hair. Gorgeous smile, although I’m not sure I would’ve used those exact words to describe him. That’s what makes it funny.”
“I guess it would be funny . . . if it hadn’t marked you for murder. Look,” Julian patted his hand, “your secret is safe with me.”
Between the extra-long pat on his hand and the questionable look of understanding in Julian’s eyes, Jake was almost afraid to ask. “And what secret would that be?”
“Obviously, you’re having an affair with that hot stud Robles.”
Oh my God. This is how rumors start.
“Julian—”
“Hey, I get it. From how Kathryn carries on about him, I’m too impressed to be upset. And if you need to butter both sides of your biscuit, seriously, no judgment. I mean, from what I can tell, the man seems a little out of your league . . .”
Jake struggled not to react to the dig. Nice.
“But you should really tell Kathryn.”
Jake dropped his head to his hand, huffing out an exasperated breath. “There is nothing to tell.”
“Hang on. Didn’t Kathryn once ask him to be her Dom?”
Jeez, she really does tell him everything.
It took a second before Jake shrugged, admitting what Julian obviously already knew.
“So, how is Daddy Jake hitting it with a fellow Dom?”
With a sound that can only be described as a wounded battle cry, guttural and frustrated, Jake stood up. “I’m leaving now.”
“Not without me, you’re not. You can’t leave me hanging. It’s like getting to the last few pages of the steamy male-female-male romance novel, where some heartless bastard has ripped the pages from the binding.”
“So, I’m back to being a heartless bastard?”
“Not if you wait up.”