THE heavenly aroma of fresh-brewed coffee tugged at Adam’s senses, but he fought the urge to wake. His current dream was far too enjoyable to give in to consciousness. Within the constructs of his fantasy world, Bo nestled in his arms. The solid warmth of his body tucked into Adam’s, and soft snoring met Adam’s ear.
He entangled their legs further, marveling at how their bodies fit together like puzzle pieces. The silky waves of Bo’s hair tickled Adam’s chin as he nuzzled into Adam’s neck and snuggled closer.
It was perfect. The epitome of what a dreamworld should be. He ran a lazy hand up and down Bo’s back, relishing the murmuring hum and the languid little hip roll that followed.
When the quiet snores returned and Bo stilled in his arms once more, Adam’s lids drifted open. He blinked against the brightness. Once, twice, a third time.
What the hell?
Lucidity replaced the hazy fragments of sleep. He wasn’t in his bedroom, nor was he alone.
As surely as he’d been in Adam’s dream, Bo pressed into Adam’s chest. His lanky limbs wrapped around Adam like a vine, and the soft, woodsy scent of his shampoo warred with the heady smell of coffee.
How had they wound up squashed onto the couch together? Adam did a quick mental check, running through the events of the previous evening. After they’d returned home from the show, they’d gone their separate ways to shower off the sticky fake blood. Bo had demanded Adam return with his clothes so he could attempt to rid them of the vivid red stains.
While Bo scrubbed and pretreated the ever-loving hell out of the garments, Adam had made air-popped popcorn. Then they’d settled on the couch and watched another of his favorite cult classic musicals—The Rocky Horror Picture Show.
And then…. Right. After Bo had tended to the laundry—switching some to the dryer and laying the rest out to air-dry—he’d landed face-first on the couch and almost immediately fallen asleep.
Not quite ready for sleep himself, Adam had put in Shock Treatment, the follow-up to Rocky Horror, and proceeded to pass out sitting up not long after. At some point during the night, Bo had crawled halfway into Adam’s lap. Too exhausted to drag his lazy ass to bed—and, quite frankly, enjoying the closeness to Bo—Adam had shifted them into the position they were in now.
Well, he’d parked Bo in front of him so they could both stretch out, but the vine-like attachment had been all Bo. Not that Adam minded. At all.
Shit. Sleeping with your employee—even fully clothed and with no naughty business—was a big no-no. It crossed damn near every boundary possible.
So why wasn’t he leaping off the couch and fleeing the scene?
Bo jerked in his sleep, snorted in alarm, then clung even tighter. He burrowed his face into Adam’s chest, and any thought of running disappeared without a trace.
Instead, Adam resumed the gentle caress of Bo’s back, who rewarded him with the same sleepy humming noises and another hip roll. Only this time, something hard pressed into Adam’s hip bone and a low moan replaced the soft murmurs.
Double shit.
Propriety overruled Adam’s desire to join Bo in the grind and groan. But barely.
“Bo?” When he didn’t stir, Adam cleared his throat to loosen the morning gravel of his voice and tried again. “Bo?”
Rather than startling awake and bolting in horror as Adam had so feared, Bo made adorable lip-smacking noises and snuggled in closer. “Mmm. Mornin’.”
“Ah, good morning.”
“Need. Coffee.” Bo’s jaw cracked on a yawn as he lifted his head. When his eyes blinked open, a drowsy smile spread his lips. For about three seconds. Then the terror Adam had expected took over. He shoved away so hard and so fast he landed on the floor with a loud thud before Adam could gather his wits enough to catch him.
“Bo—”
“Oh crap, oh crap, oh crap.” All trace of tiredness left Bo’s face. His eyes widened and color stained his cheeks. He crab-walked away from the couch until his back hit the hearth and he scrambled to his feet. “I’m sorry.”
Adam pressed to a standing position, snatching Bo’s glasses off the back of the couch as he did. “Nothing happened. We just slept. I promise.”
Bo nodded like a bobble-head doll and speared both hands into his spiked-up, sleep-mussed hair. Aside from his clear discomfort, Bo was irresistibly adorable fresh out of slumber.
Holding up his hands to indicate the innocence of his intentions, Adam stepped forward and handed Bo his glasses.
Bo accepted them with a shaky hand and eased them up his nose. “Th-thanks.”
Sighing, Adam sank onto the couch. He rested his elbows on his knees. “I’m so sorry. This was my fault. I’m the one who put us in that situation. It was unprofessional and unacceptable on every level. If you want to leave, I’ll pay you six months’ severance and help find you a place to stay on short notice. I can call you a car—”
“You’re firing me?” Bo folded his arms in a protective self-hug.
“No.” Adam shot to his feet. “No way. I just don’t want you to feel obligated to stay here if you’re uncomfortable.”
Bo was quiet for a minute. He was quiet for a minute as he stared Adam down. Eventually he dropped his arms and heaved a weighted sigh. “I’m not exactly innocent either.” He licked his lips and dropped his gaze to the floor. “I woke up when you, ah, moved us. So we were lying together.”
Adam rolled his shoulders. That meant Bo had been at least somewhat lucid when he’d wrapped those gorgeous limbs around his body. He suppressed a moan. “Okay. We both let it happen. In our own way.”
“Yeah.” Bo curled his lips in and rubbed an absent hand up and down his bicep. “It wasn’t a good idea, though. I mean, okay, yes, I’m attracted to you, and I think you might, maybe, feel the same?” He winced, his gaze darting up. When Adam offered a half smile and nod in confirmation, Bo’s shoulders slumped. “Okay. Right. So… we have to get over that.”
Laughter barked up Adam’s throat. Was he serious? They had to “get over” it? How, exactly? It had already far surpassed any of the physical yearnings he’d experienced before.
Bo was the first man Adam had an interest in who he hadn’t simply fucked and forgotten. He was used to satisfying that initial zing of sexual attraction without any thoughts to staying the night, let alone any kind of future with the man. But when his physical urges were left unchecked and he was forced to interact daily with the object of his desire within the close quarters of his own home, things got complicated. Really fuckin’ complicated.
Still, despite the confusion muddling his ability to think, he knew Bo was right. They had a professional relationship that couldn’t be tainted by all the dirty, sexy things he wanted to do to Bo. To do with Bo.
Hell, they couldn’t even do the unsexy things his brain kept conjuring up. Like having Sunday brunch and laughing as they reminisced over their adventures the night before. Or curling up on the couch and reading together. Or snuggling in each other’s arms for an afternoon nap.
Okay, so that last one was definitely off the table. But did the rest of it have to be?
No, it didn’t. Maybe they couldn’t be lovers—something Adam had never sought before, yet something he couldn’t deny wanting from Bo—but who said they couldn’t be friends? That’d be the next best thing. Plus, it would be far safer. Adam needed to keep his head in the game so his career didn’t find an earlier death than necessary. Friendship he could work around. Anything else? That’d be too risky.
“I’m down for ‘getting over’ the whole sexual-tension thing.” Adam glanced to the stairs and grinned when an idea came to mind. Something he could share with Bo that wouldn’t straddle those physical boundaries. Something special they could enjoy together. He angled his eyes back to Bo, who stared at him with a cocked head and pink cheeks. “Can we agree friendship is okay?”
The pink darkened to crimson, but Bo swallowed and offered a tentative nod. “I’d like that.”
“Good.” Adam clapped his hands. “First thing on the friendship agenda is another surprise.”
When Bo’s eyes widened in what could be mock horror but likely held a real trace of the emotion, Adam chuckled. “No need for excessive laundering with this one.”
Bo narrowed his gaze. “You swear?”
Adam held up three fingers in the universal Scout’s honor oath. “On my life.”
“Fine.” Bo breathed a heavy, exaggerated sigh. “What’s it going to be this time? You don’t plan to bust my eardrums again, do you? Because, seriously, you sound like an injured animal when you sing. That kind of auditory torture should be illegal. At the very least, it should come with a warning label so any at-risk parties can come prepared with earplugs.”
Adam’s jaw dropped. He planted both fists on his hips and shot Bo the stink eye. It took every ounce of willpower he possessed not to bust out laughing. Getting razzed was the last thing he’d expected after their tense wake-up call. But he loved it. “How’s about you take your sassy ass into the kitchen and get us some of that go-go-juice-on-a-timer that woke me from a dead sleep this morning. I’ll try really hard not to burst into spontaneous song while I clean up out here. We’ll reconvene at the bottom of the stairs in three minutes. Deal?”
Bo grinned. “Deal.”
Adam admired the man’s ass as he sashayed toward the kitchen, because, hey, friends could still appreciate the view, right?
As he bent to pick up the throw pillows they’d tossed off the couch, he belted out the opening lyrics of “Hot Patootie, Bless My Soul” from Rocky Horror. Complete with Meat Loaf’s high-pitched hoot at the beginning.
Bo’s head materialized around the corner like a prairie dog popping out of its hole. His hands covered his ears. “You promised.”
Adam shrugged as he tossed the pillows onto the couch. “Be quick with that coffee or I’ll sing the extended version. With twice the number of chorus renditions. And a few extra whoops for good measure.”
Bo groaned and disappeared into the kitchen. Without missing a beat, Adam picked up where he’d left off. Damn if Bo didn’t slide out of the kitchen on his socked feet with two cups of steaming coffee clutched in his hands before Adam could get past the second verse.
“Well, now I know how to get speedy service.” Adam nearly busted a gut when Bo’s eyes bugged. “I kid, I kid. That wouldn’t be fair. Plus, I’m the one paying your health insurance. Wouldn’t want our premiums to go up if you wind up needing ear surgery or some shit.”
He accepted the mug Bo offered, took a blessed sip of the hot caffeinated liquid, then motioned toward the stairs. “After you. Second door to the right and straight on ’til morning.”
“Peter Pan? Really?” Bo quirked a brow.
Adam grinned and shrugged. “Wait until you see what’s behind that door. Quoting Peter Pan won’t seem half so strange once you do.”
“No more singing?”
Adam rolled his eyes and bobbed his head in a yeah, yeah motion. He pointed to the stairs again. “Go. Or I’ll dig into my Wicked repertoire. I do a mean Idina Menzel.”
Bo let out a squeak and scurried up the steps. Adam enjoyed the view one more time before plastering on a goofy smile and following in his wake.