Set Ablaze E-Book

KC Burn

• Herausgeber: Dreamspinner Press
• Kategorie: Gesellschafts- und Liebesromane
• Sprache: Englisch

Seitenzahl: 329

Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2018

Beschreibung

California firefighter Hayden Hurst is starting to realize there's more to life than fighting fires and drinking with his buddies. He has room in his home and his life for someone special, but no one has stood out among his hookups. And while he's out at work, admitting he's gay is very different from showing up at social functions with a man. He's afraid that'll be too much for his less-than-accepting "friends." Broadway dancer Jez Bouchet hasn't been mistaken for straight since he was gay-bashed at seventeen. After getting a lucrative job offer in Hollywood, he uproots his life in New York and drives to Los Angeles. His brother, who is Hayden's best friend, arranges for him to crash at Hayden's place. The attraction between Hayden and Jez is unexpected but fiery, and they succumb before they're even sure they like each other. But Jez hates Hayden's homophobic friends, and Hayden knows Jez is too flamboyant for him to fly under the radar. Then there's the complication of Jez's brother. Despite those hurdles, they fling themselves into a relationship. But Jez has secrets: a tiny spoiled dog and a determined stalker. If he doesn't come clean, he might torch their burgeoning relationship before it has a chance to bloom.

Leseprobe

Table of Contents

Blurb

Dedication

Author’s Note

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Epilogue

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Copyright

Set Ablaze

By KC Burn

California firefighter Hayden Hurst is starting to realize there’s more to life than fighting fires and drinking with his buddies. He has room in his home and his life for someone special, but no one has stood out among his hookups. And while he’s out at work, admitting he’s gay is very different from showing up at social functions with a man. He’s afraid that’ll be too much for his less-than-accepting “friends.”

Broadway dancer Jez Bouchet hasn’t been mistaken for straight since he was gay-bashed at seventeen. After getting a lucrative job offer in Hollywood, he uproots his life in New York and drives to Los Angeles. His brother, who is Hayden’s best friend, arranges for him to crash at Hayden’s place.

The attraction between Hayden and Jez is unexpected but fiery, and they succumb before they’re even sure they like each other. But Jez hates Hayden’s homophobic friends, and Hayden knows Jez is too flamboyant for him to fly under the radar. Then there’s the complication of Jez’s brother.

Despite those hurdles, they fling themselves into a relationship. But Jez has secrets: a tiny spoiled dog and a determined stalker. If he doesn’t come clean, he might torch their burgeoning relationship before it has a chance to bloom.

For my hubby, who put up with a lot more than normal while I wrangled this book into shape.

Author’s Note

WHEN I wrote this, I had no idea we were going to see the type of fires in California that we did this year—this fire season has been rather terrifying. I have a huge amount of respect for what these firefighters do to keep us safe. In my story, Hayden works for the Pasadena Fire Department, and they coincidentally had an open house at one of the stations where I was able to get some specific questions answered. I’m super thankful they were willing to answer my questions, and if there are any errors or deviations from reality, they’re my errors.

Chapter 1

HAYDEN HURST toweled off, then wrapped the pristine white towel around his waist before he started shaving. He grinned at his foam-covered reflection. It had been far too long since he’d gone cruising for a hookup, and he was so damned ready to get his rocks off with another person. It was like the universe was giving him a blessing: his last shift at the firehouse had been uneventful, he’d come home and slept solidly for several hours, and he’d woken feeling rested but oh so fucking horny. Sure, it was a Tuesday evening, which wasn’t the best night to find a hookup unless he went looking via app, but more importantly, he didn’t have to be back on shift until 11:00 a.m. on Thursday. Which meant he could have a couple of drinks too.

He hummed as he scraped off stubble and shaving cream, then grabbed a smaller towel and wiped the final streaks away. Still humming, he hung both towels on a hook behind the bathroom door, then wandered naked into his bedroom.

Rummaging for the perfect pair of boxer briefs—or even a pair of skimpy Andrew Christians—that said he was ready to play, he froze when his phone rang.

No, no, no. He needed this. He needed some time where he could be himself. But he couldn’t ignore the phone. They were heading into the dangerous Santa Ana fire season, which meant he could get called back into work.

Mentally preparing to gear up, he reached for the charger on his bedside table and let out a sigh of relief as he read the caller ID.

“Hey, Miguel, what’s up?” They’d both left their small hometown in Northern California, and now Miguel was a Los Angeles firefighter while Hayden worked for a Pasadena firehouse, but their friendship dated back to kindergarten.

“You’re off tonight, aren’t you?”

Hayden’s shoulders tightened. Not work, but this didn’t bode well for his plans, and although Miguel was his best friend, he hated it when Hayden blew him off to go to a gay club. He couldn’t convince his very straight friend to be his wingman. “Sure. What’s up?”

“Let me treat you to dinner tonight. Maybe a few beers.”

The invite itself wasn’t unusual, but something in Miguel’s tone made him wary.

“Yeah, I can do that.” He could always hit a club or bar afterward. “Should I give the other guys a call, see who else is free?”

“No.”

Hayden almost took a step back at Miguel’s unexpected yet forceful response. “Uh, okay.”

“Look, I have to talk to you about something. Meet you at Messhall? Seven-ish?”

“Fine.” Messhall was about halfway between their places, and not too near where Hayden had planned to go, but better traffic was the other advantage of Tuesday night. He had time to stream another episode of Supernatural before he left. He could not seem to keep up with that show. It was like it proliferated supernaturally.

Hayden managed to squeeze in two episodes; then his Uber hit unexpected traffic, so Miguel was already seated on the patio when he arrived.

Miguel stared into the fire pit at the next table over, tapping his fingers agitatedly on his beer, and didn’t even notice Hayden until he’d sat down.

“Hey.”

Hayden nodded and grabbed a menu. Might as well order; he had plenty of time to figure out what was bugging Miguel. But he wanted to eat light. If he ate too much, he’d be too sluggish to want to hook up, and he didn’t want to miss this opportunity.

As soon as they ordered, Hayden put on his most attentive pose, but he wasn’t about to demand to know what was going on. Miguel didn’t respond well to that sort of intrusive inquiry.

Miguel let out a gusty sigh. “Dude, I need a huge favor.”

At least no one was sick or dead. “What?”

“You remember my baby brother? Jez?”

Sort of. It had been well over a decade since he’d seen Jez, who’d been a gangly kid when an eighteen-year-old Hayden moved to Los Angeles—or more specifically, his grandmother’s house in Pasadena. Jez had been six years younger than him and Miguel, and suffered from a severe case of hero worship. It had been both amusing and irritating, especially when he’d started to wonder if Jez’s attention was rooted in something else. Miguel had never mentioned if Jez was gay, but Hayden was glad he’d left Willow Ridge at eighteen, before anyone noticed anything amiss and started unsavory rumors. They’d have been true about Hayden, and he wouldn’t have wanted to tar Jez with that brush, whether he was gay or not.

Miguel never talked about Jez much, and from the awkwardness Hayden had sensed the few times he’d gone back home with Miguel, there had been a definite falling-out between Jez and the rest of his family. All Hayden knew for sure was that he was some sort of actor and he lived in New York.

“He’s moving to LA.”

“Good for him.” This was leading somewhere, and Hayden didn’t know if he’d like where this conversation ended.

“Yeah. Job offer. A good one, or so he says.” Miguel avoided making eye contact while he drained the last of his beer. “Anyway, he needs a place to crash. Until he finds an apartment. And… well… I’d have him stay with me, but….”

Hayden closed his eyes. “I suppose you could wedge an air mattress in beside your bed.” In truth, Miguel’s tiny apartment in Silver Lake didn’t have a spare inch, and would barely hold Miguel and his set of free weights, never mind a second human. And the few times Hayden had been over there, he’d caught a whiff of mildew. He shuddered.

“Aw, man, don’t make me do that. I’m in my prime. Living like I’m in a college dorm again would suck. It would only be for a couple of months. Maybe three, tops. And he’d pay rent. Or I would.”

Hayden took a large bite of steak and chewed slowly, giving himself a few minutes to think. He rattled around the two-story Craftsman house his grandmother had willed to him, but a roommate? He swallowed, then followed up with a sip of beer. Then again, if Miguel had gotten a job with a Pasadena firehouse instead of Los Angeles, they might already be roommates.

“I swear he wouldn’t be any trouble. And your place is big enough you might never even see him. Please, I’m begging.”

Except for having to share the kitchen. But Hayden worked twenty-four-hour shifts, and he slept at odd hours. As long as Jez didn’t make a ton of noise, it might not be too bad.

“Fine. But you owe me. When is he coming?”

Miguel’s cheeks flushed a ruddy color. “Friday. Maybe Saturday.”

“Friday? This Friday? What the fuck, Miguel?”

“I know, I know.” Miguel held his hands up, palms out. “I didn’t know, okay? He called me yesterday from Philly. Pittsburgh? Something east that started with P. He called from a fucking U-Haul. On his way.”

“Without a plan?”

“I guess. But that shouldn’t change anything, right? I mean, your place is always fucking pristine.”

Maybe so, but that didn’t mean it was ready for a long-term houseguest. Lodger? Roommate?

“You gotta help me out, Hayden. Bad enough he’s driving across the fucking country all by himself. It’s like forty hours.”

That made Hayden feel better. Forty hours was a long drive, but if Jez wasn’t showing up until Friday, that meant he was at least resting regularly.

“Why didn’t you call me as soon as you heard from him?”

Miguel shrugged. “I don’t know. It’s a big thing to ask, and you were at work. I thought I’d have a better chance of you saying yes if I saw you in person.”

Hayden suppressed a grimace. “It’s fine. Don’t worry about it. Jez can stay with me. Give him my cell and tell him to let me know when he expects to show up, and we’ll figure something out with the key. I have a shift Thursday, but I’m off Friday, so that works out.”

Miguel’s shoulders slumped in obvious relief. Then he tucked into his meal like he hadn’t eaten in days. Situation normal, in other words.

After they finished eating, Miguel picked up the check. “Want to go see a movie tonight?”

“Uh.” Hayden still wanted to get laid, even though Miguel had thrown him off his stride. But a good orgasm or two would shut off the mental list-making he’d been doing all through dinner to prepare for Friday.

Miguel curled his lip. “Fuck. You weren’t going out to a club, were you?” He squinted like he was trying to avoid imagining Hayden having sex. It wasn’t like Hayden wanted to imagine Miguel in the sack either, so he didn’t know why any discussion of him meeting up with guys always felt so awkward when Miguel hadn’t ever seemed to mind he was gay.

“I had planned to, yes.” Hayden hated this bit. Coming out to Miguel had been easy. Not like when he’d done the same with his parents. But being gay around Miguel, living an open life as a gay man, hadn’t been easy. Had it been those years apart when Miguel had remained in Willow Ridge until he got a place in LA? Hayden didn’t know, but he tried to avoid talking about guys or sex with Miguel. Or any of his friends.

“C’mon. Come to a movie with me. You can go clubbing anytime.”

Sure he could, as long as he didn’t tell Miguel, who was the worst cockblocker in history. Assuming Hayden managed the miraculous and found someone special, Miguel was going to have to learn to deal with this, but until that day came, Hayden did his best not to rock the boat.

“Fine. A movie.” Then right home. Hayden now had laundry and cleaning to do, closets and cupboards to rearrange, and keys to duplicate. Miguel clapped him on the shoulder and led them out to his truck. At least Hayden could make Miguel drive him home instead of Ubering.

“WHEW. WHAT a fucking shift.” Jordan slapped Hayden’s back a trifle too hard, making him cough.

“Sorry, man, got a lungful of that smoke.” A white lie. The wind had shifted and Hayden hadn’t been prepared, still distracted by the prospect of the roommate due to arrive about an hour after his shift ended, and nearly ended up with a faceful of toxic smoke. That one moment of inattention had acted like a slap, getting him back in the game. But it sounded better than telling Jordan he’d smacked the breath out of him. Putting up with the resultant ribbing wasn’t worth it.

Nevertheless, he was exhausted. Their shift had been hopping, mostly with medical emergencies. At least there hadn’t been any wildfires in the area, but the last call out had been to a bad house fire, and it had been a battle to keep it from spreading.

“You need medical?” Jordan asked, concerned. “You should have said something on scene.”

“No, no. I’m fine.” Jordan surprised him sometimes. A lot of guys on their crew didn’t like him, and in many ways Hayden could sympathize. Jordan had a lot of rough edges that seemed to get rougher over time, but he’d been Hayden’s first friend in Pasadena. He hadn’t been disgusted or angry about working with a gay man, and if his jokes skated the edge of politically correct, well, Hayden turned a blind eye. Ear? Anyway, they worked together well, and between them they’d developed a small group of guys who hung out regularly.

“Good, good. Coming to the pub after shift?”

“I don’t know.”

“We fucking deserve it after this shift. Vic will be there. Kevin’s going too, right?” Jordan raised his voice, bringing Kevin into the conversation.

“Yeah, definitely.” Kevin continued on into the locker room. Hayden needed to get in there too. Shower the stink of smoke out of his hair.

“See? And that loser Miguel would be there too, if it weren’t for him getting stuck on a different crew from Vic.”

Vic had befriended Miguel on the job, and several years ago, the four of them had formed the core of their group. A few months ago, though, Miguel had been switched to the C crew at his station, and now he had fewer days off in common with Vic. Secretly, Hayden suspected Miguel had been pleased by the change, considering Vic’s increased bitterness after his second failed marriage.

“It sounds good.”

“Then don’t be a pansy, and come out with us.”

Hayden rolled his eyes and glanced around, but no one appeared to have overheard. Hayden knew Jordan didn’t mean anything by it, but he had to be more careful at work.

“So are you coming?”

“Yes, yes.” Only because he’d worry less about his new roommate if he had something else to do while he waited for Jez to arrive. And he was starving. Getting off shift at 11:00 a.m. always meant he ate a huge lunch.

Jordan smiled at him and pounded his back again before retreating into the kitchen. Hayden sighed and headed for the showers.

HAYDEN SIGNALED the server for his check and pulled out his wallet in preparation. He’d already stayed too long, and if Jez had pushed it, Hayden might be late getting home.

“C’mon, buddy, stick around for another one or two.” Jordan, a bit sloppy from the beers he’d downed at a rate of almost three to Hayden’s one, slapped him on the back. At this rate, he’d have a hand-shaped bruise over his scapula.

“Sorry, man.”

“Getting old there?” Vic chimed in. “We all know you’re not obeying a little woman, like Kevin.”

Kevin, who was usually the first to leave to go home to his wife, gave the table of firefighters the finger, and the others erupted in laughter. Hayden shrugged, quashing any niggles of discomfort. He was out at work, and it was mostly okay, even if his buddies acted like overgrown frat boys. Maybe it would be more of an issue if he couldn’t pass for straight, but sure as shit he wasn’t going to chastise them for words that didn’t matter.

All of his friends were firefighters or cops, and he was the only gay one. Although they accepted him, things might be different if he managed to find a boyfriend, when they’d have to face the fact that Hayden might like it up the ass. Good thing Hayden had given up on that pipe dream. The occasional mocking insult didn’t bother him all that much.

The check arrived with another beer, and Hayden glared at the table, all of whom looked guilty but unrepentant.

“Seriously, guys, I gotta go.” He slipped a couple of bills under the damp receipt paper. “I’ll be in no shape to drive. Did you forget I’m meeting my new roommate today?”

Kevin, the only other guy not the worse for drink, spoke up. “I forgot. Miguel’s brother, right?”

Hayden nodded.

Vic gave an exaggerated leer. “That’s right. The Broadway actor. Think he leans Hayden’s way? Or do we need to warn him he’s about to shack up with our resident butt pirate?”

Hayden forced a strained smile. “I don’t think there’s anything to worry about.” Not that Hayden had ever asked, but he’d assumed Miguel would have mentioned if the kid was also gay when he’d begged Hayden to let Jez room with him.

“Oh ho. Maybe you will be pussy-whipped. Or dick-whipped. All those theater actors are queer as three-dollar bills.”

The server, a lovely woman trying to break into acting, who’d been flirting with Vic since they’d arrived, scowled and slammed down the beer she’d been about to set in front of him.

Vic’s eyes rounded as he stared up at her. “What?”

She didn’t reply, but the ice in her demeanor could have frosted all their beer mugs. If Vic thought he was getting lucky tonight, he was soon going to find out otherwise.

“You don’t need to worry about Jez. Or me. Nothing’s going to change. This is only temporary until Jez finds his own place.”

“Ha. If he’s built anything like Miguel, he’d snap you like a twig if you even looked at him funny.”

This conversational detour into his sex life made him cringe, especially in reference to Miguel’s little brother. Definitely time to get going. “Don’t drink too much. Jez said he didn’t have a lot of stuff in the truck, but if it’s more than I can handle, I’m calling you fuckers tomorrow for free labor.”

After Hayden stood, Jordan didn’t waste any time snatching up the untouched glass in front of Hayden’s seat.

“I’m going to go too,” Kevin said, throwing down some bills as he stood.

A few more jeers about Kevin’s balls, or lack thereof, flew around the table, but Kevin shrugged it off as good-naturedly as ever, diverting attention from Hayden’s new living arrangements. Hayden waited for Kevin, and together they headed for the entrance.

Out in the parking lot, Kevin spoke again. “You should bring Jez out sometime.”

Hayden shrugged. “Maybe. I’m sure he’s got his own friends.” Like Hayden knew if he and Jez would get along. Hell, he’d barely remembered Miguel had a younger brother. Jez didn’t even go home for holidays, at least not when Hayden had been back there.

“This isn’t his hometown. That’s seven hours north. And he hasn’t lived in California in almost a decade. He might not know anyone here aside from his brother.”

“Yeah, you’re probably right.” And too fucking thoughtful to put up with the rest of their lunkheaded friends. Maybe a wife did have a softening influence. Or maybe it was that characteristic that had ensured Kevin was the first one of their group to find a long-term partner. Either way, he made a good point, although Hayden hoped Jez would be so busy starting a new job and finding his own apartment that Hayden wouldn’t get stuck being the token friend.

Hayden didn’t have any idea how to be friends with someone whose life experiences were so different from his, and aside from the couple of cops who’d started out as emergency-scene acquaintances, Hayden hadn’t socialized with anyone but firefighters, and sometimes their wives, for more than a decade.

HAYDEN DROVE along the wide tree-lined road toward home. Sometimes it was altogether too quiet, but he’d never been tempted to get a roommate. He often had the guys over during major sporting events for beer and snacks, and that had helped to combat the loneliness.

Maybe—just maybe—if Miguel had gotten a job in Pasadena, they could have roomed together. But Hayden wasn’t comfortable sharing his private life with his other coworkers. Hayden understood Miguel’s reason for asking for this favor, but that didn’t make him any less wary.

Eh. How bad could it be? Miguel was his best friend. Jez needed a place to live, not a ready-made bestie, even if Hayden were in the market. Miguel could perform any required mentoring or basic friend services.

A small U-Haul cube van sat by the curb, parked askew with the wrong end toward the front door. Hayden pulled out his phone and grimaced. Shit. He had ignored a couple of calls from an unknown number. He should have known that was Jez.

He didn’t like being late. He had already been a little unsettled by the teasing at the bar, and the truck loomed like a guilt trip.

Hayden parked his truck on the street behind the cube van and got out. A few boxes had already made it to the porch, but of Jez himself there was no sign. Presumably he was around somewhere outside. Hayden had the spare key in his pocket, and he never left his doors unlocked, so Jez wouldn’t have been able to make himself at home. Miguel would have mentioned if Jez had taken up cat burglary in his spare time. Hayden frowned. This had all been set up last-minute. Surely if Jez was running from legal troubles, Miguel would have at least warned him.

Yeah. Miguel wouldn’t hide a bombshell like that from him.

He strode up the walk to his front door and found a guy stretched out on the couch on his porch, an arm draped across his face. His bright teal T-shirt had rucked up, revealing a strip of flat, toned brown belly. There was some sort of graphic on the T-shirt, but the guy’s other arm obscured it.

Whether Jez—and this had better be Jez—looked like Miguel or not, he wasn’t built the same as his brother. Jez lacked both Miguel’s height and bulk, although he appeared to be as fit as Miguel, in a different way. Jez’s black hair was fluffy or perhaps spiky, tipped with a vibrant red the likes of which never occurred in nature.

What sort of role had Jez landed that would require that hairstyle? Miguel had been vague, although he had been adamant Jez was moving to California for work. Whatever Miguel had or hadn’t said, Hayden suspected a bit of desperation behind Jez’s move. Acting was a hard business, and maybe Jez was trying a different coast in a bid to make it somewhere. It might have been more the dream of a job than actual employment that had brought him back across the country.

Without a mortgage, Hayden could afford to float Miguel’s brother for months, rent-free if need be. If Miguel needed him to.

“Jez. Hey, Jez.” Hayden didn’t yell, but his gruff, impatient tone startled Jez awake and he swung upright immediately, blinking and looking slightly lost.

For all of a second or so. Long enough for dread to curl around Hayden’s belly, sending despair through him as he stared at the hottie swan, former ugly duckling Jez. Breathtaking, even if Jez wasn’t his normal type. Hell, he wasn’t supposed to find Miguel’s little brother attractive. But no matter how his brain screamed out in denial, the sudden dampness of his palms, the increase in heart rate and breathing, and a twitch in his groin told the truth.

Then Jez scowled and leaped to his feet with an unexpected grace. He was shorter and slighter than Hayden and almost at the opposite end of the spectrum from his brother. If Miguel got the mass, Jez got the looks. Not that Miguel was ugly, but wow.

Was Jez maybe a little too graceful? A little something? Then Hayden noticed the graphic on the tee. A unicorn with a rainbow mane, shitting rainbows. Fuckity fuck fuck. The last thing he needed was an effeminate gay guy rooming with him. When the guys met him, the teasing would be relentless, and Jez wasn’t even his damned type.

“About time you got home. Can you let me inside already?” Jez snapped.

Hayden bit back a growl and stepped around a couple of scattered boxes to unlock the door. After pushing it open wide, Hayden turned around to find Jez standing right there, a large cardboard box in his arms.

“Let me help you with that.” Hayden reached out to grab the box, but Jez swung it away with a yelp. “Did you hurt yourself? I can take that for you if it’s heavy.” He was careful to modulate his tone so he didn’t freak Jez out again.

“No, it’s fine. I can take this. I’m not weak, you know.” If tones could literally be venomous, Hayden would be convulsing on the floor.

“Okay, okay.” Hayden backed into the house, giving Jez enough room to pass through the doorway.

“Where should I put my stuff?” Jez’s prickly voice didn’t ease up much, but it became more conciliatory as he brushed past Hayden.

“Up the stairs, last door on the left. You want to do it all yourself, or am I allowed to touch the other boxes?”

Jez, already partway to the stairs, paused, his shoulders slumping.

Guilt swept through Hayden. Jez had driven by himself across the country in a matter of days to move to a city he’d never lived in, in a state he hadn’t returned to—at least to Hayden’s knowledge—for the better part of a decade. He had to be exhausted, and although he’d sniped first, Hayden should be apologizing for being late rather than sniping back. If his gran could hear him now, she’d be terribly disappointed.

“Sorry. This one’s fragile. If you could please help with the others, I’d appreciate it.” Jez didn’t look back at Hayden, but he sounded sad.

Hayden took a deep breath, determined to start fresh. “No problem. We’ll have your stuff unloaded in no time.”

To give them both time to regroup, Hayden headed out to the truck to see if he’d been lying about how long things would take to unload or if he was going to have to call in the army of free labor, even if his prickly new roommate might object.

One glance was all it took. Jez didn’t have a lot of stuff, and there didn’t seem to be any furniture. Good thing Hayden’s spare room had a bed.

JEZ BOUCHET gently placed his cardboard burden on the bed, then spun around, leaped for the door, and slammed it shut, panting like he’d just run a marathon.

Hell, this wasn’t how he’d wanted to renew his acquaintance with Hayden. He’d been such a bitchy ass, but he’d been driving for fucking ever, and he didn’t have just himself to think of anymore.

Jez cocked his head, listening for Hayden’s approach. The stairs had creaked enough that no one would be sneaking by, ever, and Hayden was bigger and heavier than Jez. But the stairs were silent.

The lock on the door looked like a forceful jiggle would open it, but Jez flipped it anyway, then approached the precious box on the bed. Pressing the flaps back, he peered inside.

“Hey, baby. Just a little longer.”

Mournful brown eyes looked up at him from a furry, wrinkly face of fawn-colored fur—a mute objection to being trapped in the pet carrier. His adorable pug pup made Jez want to scoop him right out and cuddle, but he didn’t dare. Not yet.

“Don’t worry. We’ll find us a pet-friendly apartment faster than you can clean your dish.” Which was fast. For a little bit of a thing, his pup could vacuum up food like nothing he’d seen. Jez didn’t know Los Angeles at all and hadn’t wanted to run the risk of accidentally committing to an apartment, sight unseen, only to discover it was in a shitty part of town where he’d have to worry about getting bashed, or that the apartment was in worse shape than online photos indicated.

Miguel had assured him Hayden didn’t mind putting Jez up for a couple of months, but Jez hadn’t told him about his puppy; Miguel’s apartment was pet-free, and Jez was all too aware that Hayden didn’t like dogs. At all.

Jez partially unzipped the duffel bag–style carrier and stuck his hand in the opening, letting his puggy baby, Fang, slather his hand in kisses.

“I know, I know,” he whispered. “You’ve been so good, but I can’t let you out yet.” He could maybe give his baby a little more room to move, though.

Extracting his hand, he assessed the size of the closet. Much larger than the closet in his Brooklyn apartment. Jez shifted the cardboard box into the closet, grabbed a puppy pad from the pocket in the carrier, and spread it out inside the box, surrounding the carrier. Then he unzipped the rest of the flap, and Fang barreled out and jumped toward Jez on his stubby little pug legs.

“There’s my big tough boy. Good Fang.”

Fang’s curly tail didn’t just wag, his whole puppy butt wiggled.

“You be a good boy now. Not much longer.” Next step would be sneaking in Fang’s food and water bowls; then Fang would be fine until they got the rest of the truck unpacked. Afterward, Jez could claim exhaustion—which wouldn’t be a lie—and retreat to his room, letting Fang out. He’d been such a good sweet baby on the drive from New York, although he’d also been in his carrier on the seat beside Jez and was able to see Jez the whole time. Jez had pushed through the last couple of hours, desperate to make it to Hayden’s before the end of his shift so he could get Fang into his cardboard Trojan horse, but then Hayden hadn’t come home right away. Jez had fallen asleep in the cool afternoon breeze on Hayden’s porch, but as soon as he awoke, he’d freaked, worried about Fang. It could have been hot as Satan’s nutsack if he’d moved in the summer.

Jez was also super lucky Fang hadn’t developed a proper big dog bark. The only noises he made were a snuffle-grunt that might one day evolve into a bark, and quiet whimpers, neither of which should—hopefully—be loud enough to draw Hayden’s attention through a closed door.

God. This was such a fucking mess. Jez’s life was a fucking mess. The only silver lining, aside from Fang, was the unexpected job offer that allowed him to ditch the life he’d been building in New York without a backward glance and flee for the West Coast.

He only wished it had sunk in earlier, when Miguel had first described the incredibly small size of his apartment. Jez had been so sure he’d be able to crash at Miguel’s place, but Miguel had gone and made arrangements with Hayden.

Then again, it was possible that Miguel was more interested in not letting Jez get in the way of him getting laid than he was worried about having nowhere for Jez to sleep.

Nah. His brother could be a dick, but that seemed more asshatted than normal. Besides, even if Jez had a place to sleep, he had a half-grown pug pup that would have to be hidden from the landlord, and he needed someplace to stash his stuff.

Jez was thankful for the sanctuary at Hayden’s house. But that didn’t change the fact he’d never be able to fully relax, never be able to breathe properly. Not until he got a place of his own.

As he shut the closet door, he took a glance around the guest room. For a house as old as this one was, the room was almost devoid of character. It did have a bed, at least. Initially he’d had no idea what to expect, but from what little he’d seen so far, Hayden had the bones of a great place. It was also large enough that he and Hayden wouldn’t be on top of each other. His cheeks heated at the double entendre. Jez might have been only twelve the last time he’d seen Hayden, but he’d sure remembered him later, during his teenage years. And as much as he didn’t want to like Hayden, it was a little embarrassing to recall how many times during his restless, hormonal puberty he’d imagined Hayden on top of him.

Then Jez grimaced. No TV. His own had broken shortly before he moved. Would Hayden let him watch the few shows he considered do-not-miss? Still, this was more luxury than he’d expected. Maybe more than he deserved.

The distinctive creak of the stairs alerted him that Hayden had finally run out of patience with Jez’s temper tantrum. It had been uncalled for, and Jez probably owed Hayden an apology. However wary Hayden made him, Jez was exhausted and desperate for a place to crash and didn’t want to make an enemy of Miguel’s best friend. In a few days, after he’d recovered a bit, he’d start figuring out how to build a new life. Whether he needed legal assistance. Scope out his new workplace. He had another two weeks before the job started, which should be enough time for him to find a new place to live.

Hayden’s footsteps drew closer, and Jez lunged for the door, unlocking and opening it in a single swift move.

Hayden grinned at him over another cardboard box, and Jez was finally forced to acknowledge the alterations in Hayden’s appearance. Worry about Fang and grogginess from his interrupted nap had let him ignore Hayden’s attractiveness earlier, but now it hit him like a blow. He’d half convinced himself that the Hayden he remembered from his preteen years had been a fantasy born of innumerable wet dreams. The Hayden who’d left their small town at eighteen—while a closeted twelve-year-old Jez mourned—was now obviously a man. The Hayden who stood before him had been fired by the kiln of adulthood into something infinitely sexier and more appealing, however impossible that was. Dark hair, mossy green eyes, skin susceptible to burning. And lickable all over, damn him.

Why couldn’t good things happen to him? A Hayden with a beer belly or thinning hair might be easier to resist. Then again, that stupid, sexy, heartfelt smile would be Hayden’s into his old age, and it was that smile that set Jez’s heart thumping.

Hayden’s expression didn’t change, which meant Jez’s thoughts hadn’t shown in his expression. Thank fuck for small favors.

“Ready for some more boxes?”

Chapter 2

A FEW hours later, Jez surveyed his room. He needed to get the truck back, but before he did so, everything had to be set up for Fang. Afterward, he’d unpack a few essentials like toiletries and clothes and towels.

Food and water dishes in the closet—check. He’d have to rig something up to ensure Fang didn’t manage to accidentally close the door, but that was a concern more for once he started working. Until then, he’d be around enough that Fang wouldn’t starve to death.

Doggie bed tucked away in the corner, with dresser blocking the view from the door—check. Pet carrier on the top shelf in the closet, pushed all the way back—check. Puppy stairs… in the closet for now. He’d bring them out when he went to bed so stubby little pug legs could get up and down from the bed easily, but until Jez was on his own, Fang was going to have to forgo sleeping on the bed when Jez wasn’t around. Emergency puppy pads laid out in the closet—check. The nail on the wall inside the closet made a perfect spot to hang a leash and poop bags.

If Hayden stumbled in, Jez’s room didn’t have any obvious and immediate clues that this space also housed a not-yet-full-grown pug. Not that there would be any reason for Hayden to enter Jez’s private space, but he wasn’t about to take any chances.

Jez rescued his sleepy pup from his carrier and gave him a snuggle. Fang licked his face, and Jez straightened the adorable plaid bow-tie collar he’d ordered a mere week before he’d been obliged to pull up stakes. He’d have to switch it out soon to the plain purple one, because Fang would try to chew at the bow tie, but the purple one was fun too.

At least he’d had Fang long enough to get him mostly trained and housebroken, but a glance at his watch told him he needed to smuggle Fang out to the backyard soon, although it could wait until he got back from returning the truck. He settled Fang on the doggie bed, then slipped out of the room, making sure to close the door firmly behind him. Unpacking the rest of the boxes could wait until later. Or not at all, depending on how soon he found a suitable apartment.

He wished he had a lock for the door, but hopefully he could trust Hayden to not be a giant dick.

Jez had almost made it to the front door before Hayden called his name and he froze, reaching for the handle.

“Yeah?” His heart rate picked up. Had Hayden discovered Fang? Surely not. Jez had been so careful.

“You want to take the truck back now?”

“Uh, yes. That was the plan.”

“Let me grab my keys and I’ll follow you.”

“I thought you were going to have a shower.” The temperature in Pasadena might be mild—a typical day in early October, or so he’d heard—but they’d worked hard and they were both sweaty messes. Well, Jez was. Somehow Hayden still managed to look merely disheveled and all kinds of delicious.

“That can wait.”