BO clutched two steaming cups of coffee as he stood outside Adam’s bedroom door. It was barely a quarter past six in the morning. Not early in his world, considering he used to wake up at 4:00 a.m. every day, but Adam had proven to be every bit of the challenge Kyle had promised he’d be, no matter the time.
When Bo first interviewed to be Adam’s personal assistant, one of Kyle’s questions had hedged around whether he would be comfortable “getting physical.” When he’d asked what that meant, Kyle had smirked and replied, “Adam Littrell is the furthest thing from a morning person you’ll ever meet. As his PA, it’ll be your job to get his ass outta bed. That takes several high-octane doses of coffee and a whole helluva lot of elbow grease.”
This was the third morning in a row Bo had faced down Adam’s door with high-test caffeine in hand, and the third morning in a row his stomach had tied itself into knots.
That first day had been the worst. Building up the courage to waltz into his boss’s room while he still slept, although blatantly invited and entirely expected, had taken every ounce of reserves Bo had left.
He’d almost turned tail and run when he found Adam tangled in his sheets and wearing nothing but a pair of form-fitting boxer briefs. Especially when realization dawned that his next move required crawling onto the massive bed and laying his hands on Adam’s bare sleep-warm skin. Somehow, he’d managed it, and after what had proven to be more of a workout than even Kyle had predicted, Adam eventually stirred.
Despite having two successful victories under his belt, nerves still wound their way through Bo’s belly at the thought of barreling into Adam’s room and shaking him awake. It was his job. Adam relied on him to help get his day started. That was all it was. It was as innocent as a parent waking a child for school. It had nothing to do with the heated fantasies that kept Bo up into the wee hours of the night.
Everything between them was platonic and professional. Nothing more. He needed to keep that at the forefront of his mind or these wakeups might end him.
Clearing his throat, Bo dialed up his courage, shifted the mug handles into one hand, and pushed through the door. As with the previous two mornings, a faint light from the bathroom spilled into the room and caught on Adam’s slumbering form. If the twisted disaster of his blankets had anything to say about it, Adam was a fitful sleeper—something that seemed at odds with the near-impossibility of rousing him in the mornings. But seriously, it looked like he shared the bed with a cyclone.
Bo stepped into the room and set both coffees on Adam’s nightstand. He curled his lips between his teeth when Adam snuffled, rolled over, and splayed out one perfectly sculpted arm, almost as if he were reaching out to Bo in his sleep. The thought sent Bo’s already ravaged stomach churning anew. He blew out a steadying breath before easing onto the bed, biting his tongue, and giving Adam a pointed shove.
With a soft smacking of his lips, Adam turned his head away but showed no other sign he’d registered Bo’s presence. Inching a little closer, Bo angled his knees for leverage and laid both hands on the firm warmth of Adam’s shoulder. This time he shook with all his might, calling Adam’s name as he did.
A startled snort signaled Adam’s first step into the land of the living. Bo let go as soon as those sleep-heavy gray eyes fluttered open and locked on to his own. He leaned over, grabbed the first cup of coffee, and held it out as the peace offering it was. “Morning. Sorry. Hope I didn’t scare you.”
Adam slow-blinked a few times before scrubbing a hand over his face and pushing to an elbow. The muscles in his chest and shoulders rippled beneath his taut skin, their contours sharpened by the shadows thrown from the dim bathroom light. He accepted the caffeinated liquid and grunted in thanks before downing the whole thing in one long swallow.
After taking the empty mug from Adam, Bo hopped off the bed. He gripped the porcelain between both palms and stared into the dregs Adam left behind to keep his eyes from wandering over his boss’s naked torso as he stretched himself awake.
“Thanks for the go-go juice, my man.” Adam yawned, and his jaw cracked with the movement. He fluffed up his pillow and leaned against the headboard. “What’s on the agenda today? Anything mind-numbingly boring I should start planning an out for now?”
Bo snapped his gaze to Adam’s, swallowing a whimper at the sight of his sleep-mussed hair and lazy morning smile. He set the empty cup on the nightstand, scooped up the full one, and passed it to Adam. He’d already learned one cup was never enough, and discussing the monotonous details of Adam’s schedule always went over better paired with that extra jolt of caffeine. “Other than your regular training, Eddie is supposed to come by this afternoon with some more footage of Zaragoza for you to review. Oh, and Kyle wanted to go over a few new proposals for sponsorship contracts. He said he’d be around before dinner.”
“Of course he did.” Adam huffed out a laugh, then brought the mug to his lips. The second cup always went down with a little less desperation than the first. More sipping, less gulping. “The damn parasite just wants a free meal.”
Offering a noncommittal hum in response, Bo backed toward the door. He needed to break free before Adam tossed off the covers and gave him any more fodder for his relentless imagination. “I’ll get your shake started. Are you feeling chocolate or vanilla this morning?”
“Mmm, chocolate.” Adam purred the response, and Bo had to suppress a moan at the inappropriate thoughts that throaty morning voice inspired. He mumbled a response and hurried from the room before Adam had a chance to say anything else or reveal more skin.
When Adam shuffled into the kitchen fifteen minutes later clad in his standard workout attire, a duffel bag filled with clean clothes tossed over his shoulder, Bo curled his toes into the tile to ground himself. He’d gotten up a little early that morning to surprise Adam with one of the new recipes he’d hunted down on the internet, but now the jitters were getting the better of him. What if Adam hated what he’d made? What if he skipped breakfast on purpose or felt obligated to eat Bo’s offering, then wound up with acid reflux or sluggish reflexes as a result?
Adam tilted his chin and sniffed the air. “Smells more chocolaty than normal. I like it. What is that?”
Swallowing past the nerves constricting his throat, Bo pointed to a Tupperware container sitting beside the blender bottle with Adam’s post-workout coconut milk and chocolate whey protein shake. “I, ah, made you some vegan fudge fat bombs. I know how much you love chocolate, and the website I found the recipe on said fat bombs are good preworkout snacks. Don’t feel like you have to—”
“You made me fat bombs?” Adam’s face lit up like a child who’d spotted a pile of birthday presents. After dropping his bag, he lunged for the Tupperware, tore off the lid, and grinned at the lumpy brown balls inside. “Chocolate fat bombs?”
Before Bo could think of a sensible response, Adam lifted one of the treats to his mouth. He closed his eyes as he took a bite, letting his head fall back on a decadent, throaty little moan. “Oh my God, dude, I could kiss you right now.”
Bo squirmed under the intoxicating effect of those words. It was a simple turn of phrase, not one Adam truly meant, but it made the hairs at Bo’s nape stand at attention and a shiver run down his spine.
He had to get himself in check. Lusting after his boss was the last thing he needed right now. With a false bravado born only from the desperation to do something—anything—to distract his errant thoughts, Bo palmed Adam’s keys. He’d managed to score a brief reprieve from the driving duties that came with his position by keeping busy around the house the first few days, but he couldn’t avoid it forever. Part of his job included chauffeuring Adam through the city, after all.
Thus far, Adam wasn’t aware of Bo’s moderate—okay, more like moderately huge—fear of driving. Even in his small hometown of Indian Springs, Nevada, with only a few hundred permanent residents and no hope of tourist traffic, Bo had been on edge navigating the roads. The thought of facing the busy Las Vegas streets downright terrified him.
But he was doing this for Lulu. He could handle a few measly hours of driving every week if it meant his little sister could go to the school of her dreams and have extra spending cash to enjoy life to the fullest while she was there.
“How about a ride to the gym?” Bo forced a smile. “You can eat while I drive.”
Adam stopped midchew and cocked a questioning brow. “Are you sure?”
A slightly delirious laugh bubbled up Bo’s throat. He straightened his shoulders and nodded. “Why wouldn’t I be?”
“I kinda got the impression driving wasn’t your cuppa tea.” Adam snapped the lid closed on the Tupperware and scooped up his duffel bag. He slipped both the fat bombs and his protein shake into the front mesh pocket. “It isn’t a requirement. I can drive myself.”
Okay, so maybe Adam was aware of his ridiculous fear. All the more reason to overcome it. “No, no, I’m good. I was trying to get my head wrapped around the job the past few days, but I’m ready to hit the ground running now.”
Adam ran his tongue in a slow, mesmerizing circle, wetting every inch of his lips before smacking them together and offering a nod. “All righty then. Let’s bounce.”
As they headed toward the garage, the warm weight of Adam’s hand landed on Bo’s shoulder. When Bo angled a glance his way, Adam gave a toothy grin. “Thank you. For everything. I’m not really used to people paying attention the way you do. It’s nice.”
Heat spread up Bo’s neck to bite at his cheeks. He ducked his head. “It’s no big deal.”
“Yeah, well, I think it is.” Adam gave Bo’s shoulder a gentle squeeze before moving his hand away. He opened the door to the garage and gestured Bo forward. “Let’s hit the streets, shall we?”