9. Zack

I'd considered skipping out of breakfast. Calling Sean and telling him I would be home early and available to book with another client as soon as possible for that good, hard fuck I still needed.

But somehow—fuck the unchanged desires deep in my soul—I ended up seated at the hotel's first floor restaurant where a breakfast buffet spread over a dozen feet worth of tables with heated trays and iced bins with various foods. Others on vacation ate quietly around me, but I merely sipped black coffee. My stomach knotted, not the least bit interested in true sustenance.

It didn't matter if Landon lobbed more excuses my way. I would exercise restraint and act like a gentleman and hear him out like I'd agreed to—for Callum's sake, even though unrest over his motives still raked at my mind. I'd dreamed about him. Landon too. Their faces and bodies had morphed from one to the other while I'd slept. Beneath me. On top of me. Even a glimpse of being spit roasted had attributed to waking with a raging boner, my balls on the verge of nutting.

Two strokes had shot spunk up over my chest, and the truth Landon would soon be mere feet across the table from me already had me warming up for another round.

I hated but couldn't deny that my body still desired him regardless of the pain he'd caused me when we'd been younger.

Add in my lust for his…whatever Callum was to him, and I considered bashing my head against a wall.

Landon stepped through the arch leading into the restaurant, glancing around and halting all thoughts.

Fuck. Me.

I took the time to catch my breath and soak him in before our eyes met.

He had a gorgeous body and perfectly mussed hair I wanted to yank on while I bruised his mouth with punishing kisses. He licked over his lower lip as though anxious.

While I'd have preferred to feed off his insecurities and make him suffer like I had, that goddamn need to set him at ease slithered through my wish to wreck him.

But Landon wasn't my client, and I owed him no such satisfaction in any way, shape, or form. He'd made his bed. He could fucking sleep in it for eternity for all I cared.

Lie—you do care.

Scowling over the whisper of sympathy and love for Landon that had claws dug deep in my soul, I lounged in my chair with feigned indifference. Every muscle in my body became tense as fuck—ready to fuck—while waiting for him to spot me.

Landon rubbed at the back of his neck I wanted to hold tight while pounding into his ass until he cried and begged for release I would forever deny him.

My goddamn dick liked that image in my head a little too much and leaked pre-cum in my shorts. Internally cursing my cock, I glared at the man I'd rather see sunken into the depths of despair. Loneliness. Struggling to survive. Empty and aimless.

The same things he'd put me through.

Landon shifted my way, finally making eye contact.

A bolt of awareness, a sense of ownership I'd felt for him once upon a time, zapped through me, raising the hairs on my nape. I fought to keep from shifting on my chair at the unpleasant yet addictive feeling.

His arm fell to his side, his shoulders hitching up near his ears.

At least the kid wasn't cocky in finally having pinned me down thanks to my goddamn client. Still, he moved with lethal grace like a big cat on the prowl, sleek lines and sexy as hell shifting of muscles that made my groin pulse with the need to bury deep and claim.

Landon was a goddamn treat for my starved, aching body, and I lusted to burrow so far up his ass that I tickled his goddamned tonsils while ripping my teeth into his neck.

A muscle ticked in my jaw as he drew closer, those gorgeous eyes of his ensnaring me, making me want to agree to whatever his selfish little heart desired.

But, once bitten, twice shy and all that shit, so fuck whatever trap his deviousness readied for my soul.

I raised my chin and stared the fucker down regardless that my shield of self-preservation felt like nothing more than a flimsy sheet of foil.

He slid into the seat across from me, our gazes latched tight. "Thank you for agreeing to meet with me."

Fuck, even his low husky voice moved through me like a promising caress, causing tingles to sizzle in my blood.

"Not like I have much choice." I refused to acknowledge the way the sweet scent of him filled my mouth with excess saliva too. "Your friend hired me, and if I want to keep my job, I please the client."

I chose to ignore the glimpse of a grimace on Landon's mouth, since I'd intended for my crock-of-shit words to sting. One call, and I could end this mess.

So why hadn't I?

"How long have you been an escort?" he asked rather than apologizing yet again like I'd expected.

"Couple of years." I wasn't up for a reconnection chat, nor did I trust him with my personal shit, but as long as he got what he needed to finally let me go…

I reminded myself I was desperate to be free of his constant resurfacing in my life, that having set eyes on him hadn't changed that fact.

"Do you like it?"

Frowning, I sipped my coffee while eyeing the inquisitive asshole who sat as rigid as I did. I had no fucking clue what game he played, but exhaustion from a near sleepless night swayed my mind to go with whatever the fuck this was.

I'd had enough.

"Cut it with the small talk." I grunted the words and set my mug aside. It was time to end this shit between us so I could attempt to move on—eradicate that piece of my heart he still owned. "I'm not interested. Say what you have to so I can go find your gorgeous assistant-slash-best friend, invite him back to my room, and earn every penny he paid me. Ass, dick, mouth—I'll gladly take whatever he'll give me because he's so damn hot."

Rather than reacting or scowling in jealousy like I'd hoped for, Landon shifted on his chair and bit his lower lip.

Did the idea of me and Callum fucking turn him on?

I raised an eyebrow, not exactly hating the resurgence of lust in my groin by thoughts of dicking Callum down while Landon watched.

His face flushed a rosy pink at my knowing look. He cleared his throat, glancing away. "I won't apologize again."

"Good because words don't mean shit when it comes to broken trust."

He nodded as though agreeing, settling the slightest bit as a slow, steady exhale slumped his shoulders. His gaze latched onto my eyes again. Festering hurt radiated toward me with grasping fingers as though trying to tractor beam me into what we'd once shared. "I didn't want you to leave our home back then."

"Bullshit," I bit out, fighting hard to keep my crumbling walls in place even though Callum had basically said the same thing. Excuses. End of. "You told me to go that night. Screamed it, in fact, which brought your father running. In true brat form, you threw a tantrum because I wouldn't give you what you wanted."

Liquid turned Landon's eyes into whiskey rather than glinting amber.

Tears had been my downfall when it came to him. Every. Fucking. Time.

"Don't fucking attempt to manipulate me with emotions," I growled, remembering how he'd done so too often when we'd been kids.

"I'm not," he snapped, the sheen of wetness lingering over his expressive orbs. "I reacted out of fear, not because you denied me. You were the only person in my life who gave me attention and looked out for me. You knew me inside and out—that I was gay. You had my back when I finally told my parents that year too, standing firm by my side. You did nothing but encourage me when I started writing stories to lose myself in. It was you who influenced me to follow my dreams."

I couldn't argue anything he'd claimed because he spoke the truth about how I'd bent over backwards to make sure he wasn't alone. But that last bit?

"What dreams?" I asked, hating my interest had been piqued. I did. Not. Care.

Landon waved his hand, frowning. "Doesn't matter. What does is that I felt like my world was ripping in two, that the one person I trusted to stay beside me had turned eighteen and was going to go seek out his destiny without me. I thought giving you my virginity would tie you to me, make you stay, and when you rejected me as though I meant nothing to you?—"

The words ripped from his heaving chest, and he pressed his lips tight while swallowing hard against the tears threatening to spill down his flushed cheeks.

"You were only fifteen. Fucking jailbait, Landon," I said, my voice low as I leaned forward, wondering how the fuck all that emotion lingered inside him after so long.

But didn't anger cling to my mind, desire in my soul no matter how much I denied it, in the same way? His appearance had only intensified the desires too, much to my annoyance.

"I was young, but can't a teenager fall in love?"

"Lust, maybe," I said, "but not long-lasting commitment."

"Bullshit." Fire blazed in his stare regardless of the wetness darkening the base of his blond eyelashes. "My feelings for you haven't changed one bit since that night. I loved you then, and I love you still."

I sat back in my chair, stunned by his adamant reply. "You…you don't even know me anymore, Landon. Where I've been. What I did in order to survive. The man I became after leaving Rhode Island."

"The heart wants what the heart wants. Cliche, but that's how it is."

Fucker hit the nail on the head, and I hated him even more for speaking the truth between us.

Landon leaned forward to occupy the space over the table I'd vacated while I sat in wary uncertainty. "I chased after fulfillment elsewhere for years. Zack, if you knew half the shit I got myself into?—"

He pressed his lips tight again, his eyes revealing conflict and even more pain as he shook his head as though disgusted with himself.

"Not that I'm blaming you," he finally continued, his voice broken when I couldn't cook up a goddamned thing to say. "I take full responsibility for sowing my wild oats. But you're the one I always came back to in my mind. It's always been you. The only man I've ever wanted."

He sounded sincere, but emotional wounds and too much time lay between us to simply falling into what we'd been, the platonic relationship that had once held potential for so much more.

Besides, there was now another card here at play. And while I wasn't usually impulsive, I found myself in a situation where a risk had to be taken in order to find peace once and for all.

"What about Callum?" I watched Landon closely for micro-expressions that would reveal his thoughts for the other man who loved him in ways I no longer could.

He blinked, his head tipping to the side. Giving up the table's higher ground, he sat back, his shoulders wilted again as his hands landed in his lap. "What about him?" he whispered, uncertainty in his tone I refused to be moved by.

Still, I hesitated crossing over a line I swore I never would.

But Callum and I weren't friends as Landon and I had once been. What did it matter if I betrayed Callum's trust he'd put in me by sharing his feelings for Landon?

He played a game I was ready to participate in to free myself from the enemy I refused to see as anything else no matter how much my heart disagreed.

"That man is madly in love with you and right at your fingertips," I stated quietly, refusing to feel guilt over the truth I spilled. "He's gone above and beyond for you—and you're still stuck on me?" I shook my head, holding his unblinking stare. "I'm not the right choice here, Landon. Be smart for once in your life. Grab hold of the one who has the ability to entrust his heart to you—because that will never be me."