“WHY do you seem grumpier than usual?” Kyle pounded a fist into Adam’s shoulder before shielding his eyes against the late-afternoon sun. “By now, I thought you’d be singing off-key renditions of those corny-ass musicals you love so much and driving me up a goddamn wall.”
“Shut the fuck up.” Adam dumped his gym bag onto the pavement and glowered at his manager. “Your little plan has fully and totally backfired, dickhead.”
“Oh?” Humor laced Kyle’s voice as he dropped his hand and squinted instead. “What’s wrong? I thought Bo was just your style.”
Adam cracked his knuckles and averted his gaze. He couldn’t let on how true that statement was or Kyle would never let him live it down. “For a quick fuck, sure. But you went and moved the guy in with me. He does my laundry, for Christ’s sake. And scrapes my ass outta bed in the mornings. Not an ideal situation for fun in the bedroom. Might make things kinda awkward after.”
Kyle had the nerve to laugh. No, not laugh, but full-on guffaw. The sun flashed off his pearly whites, the brightness a sharp contrast to the smooth mahogany of his skin. Even at nearly twenty-five years Adam’s senior, Kyle could pass for ten years his junior. Especially with his short braided dreads that had barely a trace of gray. The exact opposite of Adam’s silver-streaked crop of hair.
He really was getting old. Too old, if his screaming body had anything to say about it. His workout had been intense, but no more so than his dailies ever were. Yet his muscles ached and his energy had waned so much by the end, he’d tapped out of a scrimmage he should’ve easily won.
“Did you ever think of trying something other than a ‘quick fuck’?” Kyle sucked his teeth and shook his head. “I was hoping you might find a slice of happiness to call your own outside the ol’ bump and grind. You deserve a little companionship beyond these old bones and the random bodies you pound to a pulp then forget. Both in and out of the ring.”
Adam had no interest in the kind of relationship Kyle was insinuating he needed. While his career was still viable, he couldn’t afford the distraction. Even if Bo proved to be quite a delectable distraction indeed.
Kyle landed another blow to Adam’s shoulder. As a retired brawler, his hits still packed a mean punch. Adam covered his wince with a snarl. “Watch it, Grandpa. I didn’t sleep well last night. I’m tired and cranky.”
“You’re full of excuses today, aren’t you?” Kyle rolled his eyes. “You’re thirty-eight, my man. It’s time to think about settling down. Starting a family. Maybe make some little Beasts I can bounce on my knee and tell stories to about their pop’s golden years.”
It was Adam’s turn to send his gaze to the heavens as his silver Mercedes-Maybach pulled up to the curb with Bo at the helm. Right on time. The trunk popped, and Adam rounded the sleek sedan to stash his bag. He shot a quick wink at Kyle from beneath its protective shield. Although he’d meant most of what he said—living with Bo had proven to be more challenging than he’d ever imagined—he didn’t want the old man to think he was truly angry with him.
Being the Beast meant playing a part when he was in the public eye. True, he’d taken that role a bit further than usual today, but he really was exhausted. And his advancing age was only part of the problem.
He hadn’t lied about sleeping poorly. He’d tossed and turned the previous night, and the six before.
Beauregard Wilkins’s irresistible little ass was to blame there. Knowing he was asleep a few doors down did unspeakable things to Adam’s libido. Unspeakable things that were 100 percent not allowed, which meant he wanted them even more.
He’d never been one to back down from a challenge, and that’s what Bo represented. Fighting the urge to claim his kissable lips had Adam distracted when he should be focused on training.
The sexual tension sizzling between them couldn’t be denied, yet Bo made sure to keep their professional relationship at the forefront of every interaction. There was never any doubt where he stood, even when Adam caught his gaze drifting somewhere decidedly nonwork-related.
Somewhere that twitched in Adam’s pants at the mere thought of Bo’s gorgeous green eyes widening behind his glasses when he realized he’d been caught. On more than one occasion.
Fending back a grin, Adam closed the trunk, clapped Kyle on the shoulder, then slipped into the cool interior of his favorite ride. His stomach took a dip when his gaze met Bo’s wild eyes, his hands clutching the steering wheel at ten and two like the good little terrified Vegas driver he was.
“Bo?” Adam furrowed his brow. The dude looked seriously rattled. “You want me to drive home?”
Adam’s gym was located off the Strip, but not by much. It was in Paradise, off Tropicana, which meant the most efficient way to get from his home in Enterprise was straight over Las Vegas Boulevard. Every time Bo made the trip, he turned a little greener around the gills.
This time, he looked damn near death. He was pallid and sickly, a sheen of sweat beaded on his brow.
“No, nope, I’m fine.” A shaky smile tugged at Bo’s lips, then fell into a pout. “I can do this. I promise. I’m fine. I’ll be fine.”
Adam angled toward Bo and cocked his head. “I don’t doubt that, but I also don’t mind driving. In fact, I love it. It’s easier to hitch a ride because parking can be a challenge, but I’d be more than happy to drive myself—”
“No.” Bo’s knuckles turned white as he gripped the steering wheel with more force, his face pinching. “This is part of my job. I can do it. I’m fine.”
Driving in Vegas wasn’t for the faint of heart, especially not around the Strip. Adam couldn’t blame Bo for being a wreck, especially since he came from a small town well outside the city limits. He’d admitted to only visiting the touristy areas a handful of times in his life, and most of those had been before he was old enough to enjoy what it had to offer.
That was something Adam intended to change. He might have to keep his hands—and his other body parts—to himself, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t enjoy Bo’s company in other, more platonic ways. It wasn’t the relationship Kyle had wanted him to find, but he could meet him halfway. A friendship was safe. It wouldn’t distract him too much or risk taking his head out of the game.
“Hey, I’m not doubting your abilities. I wouldn’t mind, especially not for my workouts. There’s usually parking around back. I’m being lazy by having you drive me, if we’re being honest.” He wasn’t sure why, but something told him to tack on another reassurance. “Your job isn’t in jeopardy. I trust you’d be here if I needed you, but I’m okay to drive myself.”
Bo deflated, his forehead banging against the steering wheel as his shoulders sagged forward. “Why are you so nice to me all the time? I thought you were supposed to be a dick.”
When Bo’s head whipped up in alarm at his own words, a full belly laugh replaced the snicker that nearly escaped Adam’s lips.
“I-I didn’t mean that. I’m sorry. You’re my boss. You’re not a… a dick.”
Adam swiped his hand through the air to dismiss Bo’s apology. “No worries. I’m used to it. I’ve gotta give off that dick vibe or my opponents won’t be intimidated. If they knew who I really was, they’d laugh me outta the octagon.”
Bo pressed his lips together. “And who are you, really?”
An thought sparked to life, and Adam rubbed his palms together. It was time to give Bo a better idea of just who he worked for.
Glancing at his phone, Adam grinned. It was still early—especially by Vegas standards—and it was Saturday night. Sundays were the only day he took off, unless he was in a training camp, so the timing couldn’t be more perfect.
He tapped the unlock code, then swiped the phone open. Bo frowned at him, but Adam focused his attention on the task at hand. Once done, he set his cell in the cup holder and pointed at Bo’s seat belt. “Off with that thing and switch seats with me. I’m driving.”
“No, I told you, I can—”
“This has nothing to do with any perceived inability on your end. I want to drive.” Adam pressed the button to release Bo’s belt. “Plus, where we’re going is a surprise.”
Bo’s face scrunched into an adorable, confused mess. His lip curled, his nose wrinkled, and his brows pinched. “A surprise?”
“Yes, a surprise. Now out.” Adam opened his door, exited the car, and hurried to the driver’s side, where Bo had yet to move a muscle. He gave the door a jerk, then wrapped a hand around Bo’s slender arm. “Come on. Unless you have something else planned for this evening…. Shit. I didn’t even think to ask. Do you?”
“Do I what?”
Adam chuckled. “Do you have plans? It’s Saturday night. That was presumptuous of me to assume you didn’t.”
Bo was beautiful, after all. He probably had a hot date. Or hell, for all Adam knew, he intended to spend the night with his significant other. That wasn’t out of the realm of possibilities. Their casual conversation over the past week had steered mostly clear of personal details.
A ridiculous pang of what could only be jealousy lanced through Adam’s gut. Since when did he get jealous? Since never, that’s when. He scowled.
Bo swallowed and slid out of the car. “I was planning to do a couple loads of laundry.”
Maybe that was it. Maybe it was the domesticity. Adam’s previous personal assistants had either been female or straight. There hadn’t been a lick of attraction between them. But this was different. Bo was different. When he washed Adam’s clothes, prattled on about his schedule for the day, or roused him out of bed with a cup of coffee and a precious little shove, it didn’t feel the way it had with the others. It felt almost intimate.
Adam pointed toward the passenger seat. “Laundry can wait. Hop in.”
Bo obliged without argument, but as they buckled up and Adam shifted into Drive, he cleared his throat. “Where are we going, exactly?”
Tossing Bo a wink, Adam eased into traffic. “I’m gonna show you the man behind the Beast.”