NATHAN GROANED. HIS entire body felt like lead, from the strands of his hair to the tips of his toenails. Muscles were deadweight. Even his skin felt heavy. Could skin even feel that way?
Maybe he was dead and this was hell.
Deciding to check, he attempted to crack an eyelid. No go. It was sealed shut. Another groan escaped him. The darkness felt extremely claustrophobic, for some reason. The twinge of panic it brought gave him the push he needed to try again.
This time his eyelid opened a slit, allowing in much-needed light. He could do this. He kept reminding himself of that, begging his brain to cooperate with his body.
In an almost Herculean feat of strength, his eye finally opened. He glanced around, getting a sense of where he was. Door. Lamp. Bed. The rug beneath him made his skin itch. No. Not hell. But not his hotel room, either. Why was he in Preston’s room?
And how had he landed on the floor when the bed was mere inches away? Weird. Especially since he was sure he had been standing the night before. When Preston had brought him back to their suite. When he had …
This time he groaned for an entirely different reason. If he remembered correctly, he had finally had the courage to tell Preston his feelings. Could have stopped there. But no. He went on and almost molested his friend. Ugh! Preston must be freaking out. Nathan wouldn’t be surprised if he had taken the jet and flown back to Dodge Cove.
He wanted … no, needed to be dead. Like right that instant. He had no idea how—if and when he managed to get off the floor—he would face Preston after what he’d done.
One pot brownie changed everything.
Well, that was the last time he was ignoring his gut and using the “you only live once” excuse to try mind-altering substances.
Then the thought occurred to him.
Sororicide—the act of murdering one’s sister. A very good idea. The right incentive to get him off the floor.
But wait.
Preston did seem to have enjoyed the kiss. He wasn’t exactly pushing Nathan away.
Maybe this could still be salvageable. If he recalled correctly, he did mention something about a brownie. Surely Preston would understand the situation if he explained.
Body. Off floor. First.
* * *
Preston opened the door to the suite to let in room service. After hitting the gym and taking a shower, he’d thought of surprising Nathan with a huge breakfast. Never having been high himself, he’d heard that coming down made people hungry. Last he’d checked when he’d snuck in that morning to get clean clothes, the party planner was still out cold, on the floor of all places. He hadn’t bothered putting him in bed. It was punishment for not being more aware of his surroundings.
Natasha had given him the note with instructions not to open it. He promised on his life that her brother would read the letter without any interference from him. He still felt guilty for involving Jackson and vowed he would give him a call when he closed the door to the town car that would take Natasha to the airport. She’d turned down his offer to use the private jet, which he was silently thankful for. He needed the plane for what he had planned.
The fight with Tash made him understand that he didn’t want to miss out on loving someone. When Natasha and Jackson had been together, they had been happy. So mad for each other. Preston wanted that. With Nathan.
“Where do you want this, sir?” the man pushing the heavily laden cart asked.
“Let’s set things up on the balcony,” Preston said, pointing toward the double doors, which he’d left open.
The weather was moderate enough for breakfast outdoors. Nathan would surely appreciate the sun. Preston wanted everything to be perfect.
In his pocket sat the lock. Its weight was a constant reminder of Nathan’s feelings. Knowing freed Preston from worrying about his own feelings. Everything had come into focus last night.
As he helped the server set up the table with platters of fruit, plates of pancakes, strips of bacon, slices of ham, a vast array of cereals, carafes of juices and milk, and a pot of coffee, he caught himself thinking that if he had been stubborn enough not to come on the trip, maybe Nathan wouldn’t have told him. No more missing out on life. He promised himself that.
* * *
It took him an eternity, but Nathan finally managed to get off the floor and onto his feet.
His next order of business was a shower. It felt damn good resting his throbbing forehead against the cool tile and just letting the water run down his back. A part of him was still a bit high, considering the periodic giggles. And he was damn hungry. Like ready-to-eat-a-horse famished. That day calories did not exist in the name of the munchies.
Once out of the shower and feeling almost human again, he realized he had nothing to wear. And borrowing Preston’s clothes felt too intimate. Plus, he wouldn’t feel himself if he wasn’t in his clothes. Even superheroes needed a costume. It seemed trivial, but wearing something he owned would help push down some of the mortification he already felt.
So, in one of the hotel bathrobes, he took a deep breath, yanked the door open, and without looking at anything else, in case someone was in the common room, he ran all the way across the suite until he reached his room.
“Nate?” he heard Preston call from the balcony.
Crap. Of course he would be out there. He had always been an early riser because of his training schedule.
“I’m fine!” Nathan said back. “I’ll be right out.”
“I have breakfast waiting.”
As if on cue, his stomach rumbled.
* * *
Preston had managed to stifle the laughter threatening to come out when Nathan finally stepped out of his bedroom. To be honest, he wouldn’t have minded Nathan wearing the hotel robe. They were quite nice, and he actually liked them. But knowing Nathan, he wouldn’t feel himself not being dressed up. He had always been that way. So Preston had been prepared to wait.
Fifteen minutes later, which seemed like a record considering Nathan’s penchant for thinking about what he would wear, the door to his room opened and he stepped out slowly. Preston glanced over at him, and his eyebrows shot up. No wonder Nathan had been fast. He’d just combed back his wet hair. No product. Interesting. He bit the inside of his cheek to keep from grinning.
“How are we doing this morning?” he asked, putting the coffeepot down after pouring out two cups. “Is the weed still affecting you?”
“Is Tash here?” Nathan looked around.
Preston skirted around the table and pulled out the letter. “Here, you need to read this.”
“What is it?” Nathan dropped his gaze to the envelope with the hotel’s name on it.
“I promised Natasha that you would read this first,” he said by way of an explanation.
“Where is she?”
“She left early this morning.”
Nathan took the letter. “Why?”
He shrugged. “You’ll have to read the letter.”
It was obvious from the look of mortification on Nathan’s face what was about to happen. Not that Preston needed an apology. But it came anyway.
“I wanted to say how sorry I am for what happened last night,” he began. “I shouldn’t have eaten that brownie.”
“Don’t worry about it.” Preston placed a hand on the small of Nathan’s back. The contact sent a zing up his arm. Nathan looked up at him, his lips parted slightly.
For a brief moment, Preston wondered what those lips would taste like if he leaned in for a kiss. Nathan looked so damn adorable when he was guilty about something. And Nate’s cologne. Had it always turned him on?
The need to take things from a casual breakfast to something more was so overwhelming that Preston almost chucked his plans out the window. No. Nathan deserved more.
So, with all the self-control he possessed, he forced himself to say, “Come on, you must be hungry.”
At first it didn’t seem like Nathan would budge. His cheeks were flushed. Good. He was just as affected as Preston was. It told him he was on the right track.
Then Nathan closed his eyes, sighed, and when he opened them again he nodded as if he’d made a decision. He neared the table and picked up a strawberry. He took a bite.
Smiling, Preston took a seat and busied himself with buttering a piece of toast.
Nathan took a seat as well and opened the envelope.
With bated breath, Preston waited as his friend scanned the note. First Nathan’s brow wrinkled, and then his eyebrow twitched.
“What does it say?” Preston asked gently.
“Check it out for yourself.” Nathan handed him the letter, then picked up a strip of bacon and began munching on it.
Preston scanned the contents.
In the letter Natasha apologized for allowing Nathan to eat the brownie, that he could kill her later if he wanted, and that she was headed home. That was it. No mention of Jackson.
“Even if she’s right about the killing-her part, I’m still worried,” Nathan said after finishing his bacon. “It’s not like her to just leave without saying good-bye in person.”
“She actually did come to say good-bye,” Preston said. “You were out cold on the floor. Nothing we did could wake you.”
The last part was a small white lie. They hadn’t tried to wake him.
Nathan sagged against the back of his chair. “I’m never getting high ever again.”
“Look—”
“I’m really sorry for what happened last night,” Nathan interrupted, desperation in his tone.
Preston let out a long sigh, pouring milk into a bowl of cereal. It was becoming clear that Nathan wouldn’t let go of this until he acknowledged it. Then the thought occurred to him. Maybe he could use this to his advantage.
“Are you mad?” Nathan added before Preston could respond.
“Mad?” It took all his willpower to keep a straight face.
“You have to forgive me. Say you forgive me.”
He let the grin come naturally then. “Well, I’m always open to you making it up to me.”
The tips of Nathan’s ears turned a deep shade of red as he dropped his gaze. “What do you have in mind?”
Preston had to bite the inside of his cheek to keep from saying what was really on his mind in that moment. Instead, after clearing his throat, he said, “Why don’t you let me take over the last leg of the trip?”
Nathan squirmed, obviously uncomfortable with handing over control. “What do you mean?”
“Exactly what I said. Let me plan the rest of the trip.”
“I’m not sure about this.”
“Just give in, Nate. Just give in,” Preston said with the most tempting smile he could muster.