“HEY, Grandpa, how goes it?”
The laughter lacing Adam’s words should’ve brought a glare to Bo’s face, but even those muscles were sore. It was easier to grunt than to risk any unnecessary physical movement.
Adam flopped on the couch at Bo’s feet with all the lithe agility of a man who hadn’t spearheaded a murderous workout routine the night before. Or spent another three hours at the gym this morning. Yet somehow, he had. Without showing the slightest sign of discomfort or negative ramifications.
Just… how?
“I bet you’ll listen to me next time, won’t you, young grasshopper?” Adam pulled a knee onto the couch so he could face Bo and grinned with an unnecessarily boisterous gusto. “Especially considering the soreness is always worse on day two. This ain’t nothin’ compared to what you’re gonna face tomorrow.”
Bo moaned. How was that physically possible? He’d never hurt so bad in his life. How could it get any worse?
He wanted to kick his own backside from here to Alaska for his idiocy. Adam had tried to talk him out of pushing things as hard as he had. But after that first night, where Adam had him walk on a treadmill for twenty minutes and called it quits, he’d wanted to prove he didn’t need coddling. If he was going to join Adam in his workouts, he didn’t want to embarrass himself. Worse, he didn’t want to hinder Adam’s ability to get in the workout he needed. After all, keeping his body fit was Adam’s full-time job.
Like it was Bo’s full-time job to do about anything other than lie around on his boss’s couch like a sack full of bruised potatoes. He struggled to lean on his elbows and worked up a good glower. “Listen, meathead, it isn’t nice to tease the wounded.”
“Meathead?” Adam’s brows popped. “Ouch. Do you talk to your baby sister with that mouth?”
Bo whimpered as he pushed to a full upright sitting position. “Actually, I do. Hence the term ‘meathead’ rather than something more colorful.”
Faced with raising an adolescent when he had still been one himself had meant a lot of adjustments and a crash course in maturity. Which wasn’t something Bo was entirely new to. His mother had been diagnosed with stage IV cervical cancer early in her pregnancy with Lulu and decided to postpone treatment until her daughter was born. It’d resulted in a healthy baby girl, but their mother had passed a few short weeks later.
His family had already been battling financial difficulties before her death, so Bo’s father had to take on two full-time jobs to keep them afloat. Even then, there weren’t enough funds available to pay for evening and overnight childcare. At seven years old, Bo had already been Lulu’s primary caregiver.
“Hold the phone.” Adam tilted his head. “You’re saying you never curse? Like, not ever?”
“I had impressionable little ears looking to me as an example. I learned other ways to vent my frustrations. Ways that wouldn’t get me pulled in for a parent-teacher conference because the mouth attached to those ears chose to repeat what they’d heard.”
Adam huffed out a laugh. “I’ve got thirteen years on you, and you’re more grown-up than I’ll ever be.”
Before Bo could respond, the doorbell echoed through the living space and Adam leaped to his feet. He gave Bo’s shoulder a squeeze on his way to the door. “Kyle’s here to talk shop. He was also tasked with dinner provisions. Cross every appendage you have that he didn’t cook it himself or we’ll be going hungry tonight.”
Bo labored to his feet and met Adam and Kyle in the kitchen. Adam scowled as he peered into a reusable insulated shopping bag. On the other side of the room, Kyle lounged against the counter with a Cheshire cat grin in place.
“What the hell is this shit?” Adam poked a finger into the bag. He pulled his arm back a second later as if something had bitten him. “It’s spongy. Why is it spongy?”
“It’s tripe, you big baby. It’s good for you. Lots of protein.”
“Tripe?” Adam screwed up his face. “Da fuck is tripe?”
“It’s the lining of an animal’s stomach. In this instance, a cow’s.” Kyle’s deep laughter rolled through the room when Adam’s eyes widened. Bo couldn’t help but join him.
“Count me out.” Adam shoved the bag away and folded his arms, grumbling under his breath as he glared between Bo and Kyle. “Glad you assholes think my suffering is amusing. If I pass out from starvation later, you’re both fired.”
A tingle of unease raced up Bo’s spine but dissipated into something far more debauched when Adam shot him a wink and made a show of stomping over to the refrigerator and tugging it open.
Kyle angled a look at Bo. He waggled his brows, shoved off the counter, and descended on Adam’s turned back. A high-pitched peal of laughter preceded a flash of movement. Almost quicker than Bo could process the sight, Adam had Kyle pinned to the tile floor.
Jealousy sizzled under Bo’s skin like the heated jolt of a frayed low-voltage wire. He’d give about anything to have Adam straddle him that way. If even for a moment.
Maybe he should take note and test out Adam’s tickle spots sometime?
The thought of running his fingers over that hard flank of muscle had Bo shifting on his feet. His sore body ached as he did, and he welcomed the distraction. Tickling his boss was on the no-go list. As was even the thought of touching him. Anywhere. Ever.
“Bo, I know we’re not at the ‘I’ll help you bury the body’ stage of our relationship, but have we at least reached ‘feign ignorance’?” Adam grunted when Kyle bucked beneath him. He repositioned so his body covered Kyle’s, did some sort of scissor-kick with his legs, and three seconds later, Kyle was on his stomach with both arms trapped behind his back. “Because there’s a distinct possibility I’m gonna murder this son of a bitch.”
Hearing Adam insinuate they were at any stage of a relationship sent a giddy wave through Bo’s belly. He grinned. “My loyalties are with you, boss. Just tell me where to find the shovel.”
“Hey, I’m the one who got you this job, Wilkins.” Kyle’s voice was muffled and came out on a wheeze when Adam shifted his bulk higher up the man’s back. “You can both thank me later. I expect an invite to the wedding.”
Thank him? For what? And whose wedding? Before Bo could question the bizarre statements, Adam growled and twisted one of Kyle’s arms until it looked almost broken.
“Jesus fuckin’ Christ, man, uncle. Uncle.”
Adam released Kyle and sprang to his feet with an incomprehensible sprightliness. He held out a hand and yanked the older man upright, giving him one of those back-slapping, one-armed guy hugs before shooting a cheesy grin Bo’s direction. “I dunno about you, dude, but I’m not eating spongy cow innards. Whataya say to a little Grubhub delivery?”
“Sold.” Bo slipped his phone out of his back pocket and pulled out the closest barstool. When he climbed on, the overworked muscles in his butt screamed, and he winced at the injustice.
Kyle guffawed and jabbed an elbow into Adam’s ribs. “And you said my plan didn’t work. Looks like you found some time for fun, after all.”
“For fuck’s sake, asshole.” Adam turned cherry red, his eyes flashing a dangerous stormy gray. “Bo’s sore because he’s been working out with me. That’s it. Leave it alone.”
“Huh.” Kyle’s twinkling eyes shifted to meet Bo’s. “So, you’ve got him going back for his GED and you’re keeping his grumpy old bear ass company in the gym? You’re an angel, Wilkins.”
Bo’s overcharged brain zeroed in on the words “bare ass,” and a whimper caught in his throat. The visual that supplied almost overrode all other thought. Almost. He might be young and uneducated, but he wasn’t stupid. He’d gotten the gist of their conversation.
He wasn’t sure what plan Kyle referred to, but he was pretty sure it involved his backside being sore for a much more enjoyable reason than overexertion in the gym.
Why was life so frickin’ unfair? He and Adam clearly wanted the same things, yet they weren’t allowed to have them. If it weren’t for his drive to give Lulu the best future possible, something he’d be putting at risk by even considering such a thing, Bo would jump to his feet and kiss Adam senseless. Sore muscles and Kyle’s presence be damned.
Unfortunately, that wasn’t possible. Neither were any of the other endless fantasies he’d conjured up over the past week and a half.
Sighing, Bo offered Kyle the best smile he could muster. “I’m not an angel, Mr. Bryant. I’m a dedicated employee. That’s all.”
When Adam hung his head and shoved his hands into the pockets of his jeans, Bo’s heart twisted. Maybe someday they could be the more they both wanted.
Maybe. Someday.