Chapter 14

CHAPTER 14

LUKE

The leather under my palms creaks as my fists clench against the steering wheel.

Fuck.

I need to drive away. Need to get out of here as fast as I can.

But I can’t .

I can’t fucking do it.

Not yet anyway.

How am I supposed to leave him in a place like this? The entire building looks like it’s one rainstorm from collapsing.

And his apartment…

It’s not fit for a storage closet, much less a home for someone to stay in.

He said it was his home .

The voice in my head, the one that sounds eerily like my asshole sperm donor, taunts me with Timothy’s answer.

My boy did tell me he felt like it was home. It shocked me to hear, though I shouldn’t be surprised. After finding out he has no family left, he’s made his own space.

Dammit all if I’m not proud of him for it.

However, there’s still a massive concern for his safety. I can’t fathom him staying here alone, nor do I want to picture the effects a place like this might have on his health long term.

Would it be terrible of me to go back in there, pack all his stuff, and drag him away with me?

Short answer: Yes, it would.

Long answer: Probably still yes, but also, that’s called kidnapping.

Or is it mannapping?

Mannapping sounds like something old men do when they’re tired.

I shake off the distracting train of thought as I look out my truck window to the apartment building I can’t seem to leave. If only I knew if Timothy was lying, then I’d feel fine with stealing him away from this life.

Unfortunately, I don’t know the truth. My boy keeps things too close to the vest for my comfort.

So I’ll simply have to keep an eye on him to be sure. If I learn all his tells, then I can ask him again about his apartment.

Surely, I can keep a cool head long enough for that.

And maybe…

An idea comes to mind. One that’s slightly diabolical but might just work in my favor.

Dialing Jake’s phone, I drum my fingers on my thigh, so I don’t further damage my truck with my frustration.

“Jake’s coffeehouse, where the beans are hot but the owner’s hotter. What you want to brew today?”

I choke out a laugh at the ridiculous way he answered the phone. “Hey, it’s Luke.”

“Hey Luke. I’m Jake.”

“Yes, you said that already. I’m calling because I wanted to propose something to you,” I say hesitantly.

There’s a hum on the other line. It’s a thoughtful sound, one that tells me he’s preparing to toss back some outrageous answer.

Sure enough, he replies with, “While you’re an attractive man, I have to say I cannot marry you. My family’s requested dowry is too high, even for a former NHL star like yourself.”

“Not wanting marriage. I need to borrow someone of yours.”

“Someone? I don’t have a someone — not yet anyway. Oh, wait… you mean Timothy, don’t you?!”

At his shout, I pull the phone back and wince. He’s far too loud and excited about this.

“Yes, I mean Timothy. I just bought a house, and I’ll need help getting it setup. With the season starting, I’m worried I won’t be able to do it alone. Timothy seems more than capable of assisting me.”

Oh, and I want him to pick out all his favorites to make the space perfect.

Can’t say that much, though. Not until I know more about Timothy’s stance on his apartment and how Jake will feel about me dating his assistant.

We’re not technically employed by the same business, though we do share the same boss. I still doubt there is a clause of any kind about fraternization. If there is, I’ll find a loophole.

There’s no future without Timothy as mine.

“That’s awesome, Coach! I bet he’d love to help. Projects are kind of his specialty. I’ll just shift some stuff around, so he doesn’t have to worry about helping me out as much.”

“You sure you can handle that? Isn’t it something he’d normally do?”

Jake snorts. “Yeah, he would. It wouldn’t be a surprise if he does it though. I’m sure you want to break the news to him yourself that you need his help. You two have hit it off pretty well.”

It’s not a question.

There’s no doubting Timothy and I have grown to be friendly, though Jake has no clue just how friendly.

Cocks rubbing against each other might be further than he thinks. At least I hope it is. I don’t want to know if my boss is thinking about my sex life.

“We get along,” I give as a half answer. “So it’s fine if I steal him away a bit for some errands and such?”

“Absolutely! Also, don’t forget we have dinner at my parents' place soon. You need to be there, and so does Timothy. Don’t book anything that will overlap. The whole team is coming.”

I nod, even though he can’t see me. Jake and I discussed in detail how he wanted the dinners this year to go. Past years have had them spread out at the various players’ homes to create a sense of comradery.

This year, however, Jake insists on hosting it at the Bellport family home. He claims it’s because the team’s players could be traded, which might throw off some of the dinners. I didn’t stop to remind him that he controls who goes where so he could ensure there wouldn’t be any issues.

It feels like he has a specific reason to take the dinners to his own turf. I’m not going to be the one to buck against him on it.

“We’ll be there. I’ve got to head home now to get some sleep.”

“Understood, Coach. See you soon. I’ll give Timothy the go ahead on being your temporary assistant for a bit. I’m sure he’ll be excited to help.”

I grimace at his choice of words.

I don’t want him to be my temporary assistant.

Hell, I don’t want him to be my temporary anything.

Forever only.

That’s the way it should be.

Dinner at the Bellports' house is not at all what I expected it to be. Though, to be fair, I’m not sure I had one clear idea of how it would go.

Knowing the level of wealth the Bellport family has means there is a certain standard to be expected. My family ran in those same circles when I was growing up. It’s all lavish affairs and sparkling ballrooms for dinners.

But this family isn’t like that.

There is a show of wealth, sure.

However, it also feels like a home. It’s warm and comforting, with genuine smiles and laughter floating through the space.

I should have known it would be more laid back after Jake didn’t bat an eye at my team building requests. Not many coaches encourage their team to eat popcorn while watching films. The boring task becomes something more with the snack involved, which, in my opinion, improves everyone’s dynamic.

Given we’ve got two new guys, it’s especially important to make them feel welcome. Chavez did a good job helping me out with that this week, and I made sure to thank him for it during practice too.

The kid seemed surprised by my appreciation. I have a feeling his snarky personality has gotten him into more trouble than most. He doesn’t know what to do with kindness. He’ll learn with time.

As more of the team arrives, I keep myself tucked away in a corner of the room to observe them. I doubt Jake even knows I’m here. I slipped in while he was changing clothes, or so his mother said. It doesn’t much matter, only that I get to watch unguarded since he’s unaware of my arrival.

Which means I see the interactions between the team owner and all the players and guests. Jake Bellport is a chameleon, blending in with everyone around him no matter who they are.

More than that, I notice he’s keeping his eyes on the door as if he’s waiting for someone specific to arrive. If I had to guess, I’d think it’s two someones.

The fact that he worked so hard to get Leon and Maddox here tells me a lot. Add to it that he always seems to hunt them down whenever they’re in the same room with him, and well, I get a clear picture of things pretty fast.

As I’m taking in the room and sipping my soda, a familiar figure slips through the crowd.

Timothy.

My gut tightens at the sight of him. We haven’t had much time to talk over the last few days. Not since the night I dropped him at his apartment.

He’s been avoiding me. I know he has.

Especially since Jake confirmed he told Timothy I’d need him soon to help me get my house in order. Apparently, there were a couple of projects my boy insisted on finishing before dedicating his time to me.

It’s no bother, really. I’ve technically moved into the new place, though the word moved barely fits that.

There are boxes in the new place with my stuff. None of them are unpacked, and I’m living out of a suitcase at the moment. The only furniture I have in place is the bed, and that’s only because I refuse to not have a comfortable place to sleep.

Even so, the bed will be replaced if Timothy even hints at it being uncomfortable. I have a guest room it will fit in perfectly should the need to adjust arise.

I see Timothy trying to blend into the background as he shuffles through the growing crowd. Jake spots him easily, calling him over to the group he’s formed with Bellamy, Bishop, and their boys.

From where I’m standing, I can’t hear much of the conversation. Instead, I focus on their faces to see if my boy is comfortable. If he needs to be bailed out, then I’ll make up some type of reason to pull him away.

I’ll always protect him from the things he doesn’t want to experience.

With so many people near the front of the house and more set to arrive, someone calls out for us to move further back into the sunroom. I follow the crowd, careful not to let Timothy out of my sight.

So far, he’s shown a few cautious smiles, though I sense he’s still not fully sold on being the center of attention. At least not when it comes to his boss.

The Bellport family sunroom is built like most others I’ve seen. The wall of glass shows a beautiful landscape full of fresh flowers and trees in their backyard. Chairs, couches, stools, and, most surprisingly, beanbag chairs, fill the space.

We definitely won’t be short on seating.

I take up a stool that’s about midway through the space so I can swivel my head either way and catch what’s happening in the room. Honestly, though, my focus is only on one man in particular.

Timothy takes a seat with Finn and Atlas on the floor near Jake. I’m not sure if that’s a conscious choice for my boy to stay close to him or if they're all intent on talking to one another. When Jake slips his thumb in his mouth, the truth settles deep in my bones.

They’re all Littles.

Finn. Atlas. Jake. Timothy.

The four are far more similar than their looks might have you believe. Granted, they’re all smaller men in size. Taking them in as a group, that’s about where it stops though.

Jake is clearly the jokester, although he’s rather subdued at the moment. Finn and Atlas are both shy at first glance. They do seem eager once they get more comfortable, if the way they’re treating Timothy is any indication.

And well… my boy is just pure sweetness. He’s curious and understanding. He’s the hardest worker I know.

Above all, he’s mine.

Whether he knows it yet or not, I’ve claimed him. Tonight, I’ll let him play with his friends, but he won’t make it home without us discussing what comes next. I’ve tried to reason with myself that he's not ready and that I should court him more.

Too bad for both of us, logic isn’t part of the equation anymore.

A few minutes into the discussion, there’s a shift in the room. It’s subtle enough most everyone else seems to miss it.

Everyone except me and Jake.

Jake’s mouth drops open, and his eyes widen. From the corner of my eye, I notice Leon and Maddox in the doorway.

The two men strut across the room confidently, their gazes locked on the man curled up in his beanbag chair. Whether by design or coincidence, there are two chairs left open beside him. They each take a seat, effectively trapping Jake where he is.

Bishop smirks at a harried looking Jake. I watch it all from the sidelines, amused the group is so obvious in how they communicate.

Who needs words when expressions will tell you just as much?

Turning my gaze away from Jake and his men, I find eyes already on me. Timothy rushes to look away once I see him, but he can’t hide what I’ve already witnessed.

My boy wants me.

He misses me.

So much for waiting until the end of the night.

First chance we get alone, I’ll show him just how much I’ve missed him too. And maybe, if I play my cards right, I’ll convince him to trust me with more.

More of him.

More of us.

Just, more .

By the time dinner is over, I’m practically crawling out of my skin. There hasn’t been a chance to catch Timothy alone yet. We weren’t seated close enough to talk, and the group as a whole is too rambunctious for me to catch his attention.

Only when the mention of desserts and games comes up do I finally get my shot. The group chants their request for more, to which Bellamy Bellport leads them all to a game room.

Timothy whispers to Finn, who in turn points to a door right off the main hall. I let the others trail ahead as I keep eyes on my boy.

No one notices as I slip away to follow him. If they had, I’d have come up with some excuse. At least until I confirm with Timothy that he’s ok with me claiming him so publicly.

The sounds of the others dim the further away they get. Left with nothing to do, I wait outside the door with my hands in my pockets.

A few minutes pass before I hear the distinct sound of a sink running. When it cuts off, I stand to my full height and wait at the door.

Timothy opens it seconds later, his eyes on the floor. He doesn’t register my presence until his head hits my chest.

I reach out to grab his shoulders right as his head tilts up. Wide eyes meet mine as he squeaks in shock.

“Timothy,” I whisper softly.

He shakes beneath my hands. I can’t tell if it’s from fear or lust, though my guess is definitely the latter.

The sound of heels distracts me for a second, reminding me we’re out in the open. Doing the only thing I know to, I push my boy back into the bathroom and shut us inside.

“What… what are you doing?” he asks.

I shake my head, my body having a mind of its own as it lifts Timothy onto the bathroom sink. Next, I’m planting my hands beside him and looming over his body.

“I’m here to talk to you, honeybee. You’ve been avoiding me. Why is that?”

Timothy’s throat works as he swallows. “I figured you’d want space. You know since…”

“Since we had sex, you thought I wanted space? Christ, honeybee. I’m damn near losing my mind missing you. Space isn’t what I want.”

“You don’t?” He blinks up at me, his brow dipped as a confused expression shadows his adorable face.

Cupping his cheeks, I press a soft kiss to his lips. “Not at all. If I could, I’d keep you around all the time. Jake might hate me for stealing you though.”

Even at my confession, his frown doesn’t change. There’s something else bothering him. Something I fear I might have caused.

“Why did you leave so fast if you didn’t want space? You practically ran from my apartment,” he declares.

Fuck.

How the hell do I explain this to him without sounding like an asshole? He can’t hear the truth just yet. He’ll be scared by the magnitude of what I’m feeling.

Instead of the full truth, I go with a half-truth.

“To be honest, I didn’t think your apartment was all that safe. I was minutes away from getting you an entire security system and hiring a bodyguard for you.”

He giggles at my words, amusement softening his features. “That’s silly, but I guess it makes sense. I wish you’d have just said something.”

“You called that place your home. I didn’t want to insult you by saying it wasn’t good enough or anything. Besides, my family comes from money. Sometimes I’m a snob when I don’t mean to be.”

His body loosens at the self-deprecating words. It’s like he’s seeing more and more of me, or at least enough to get a better picture of why I ran out on him.

If I’d stopped to think about it myself, I might have put two and two together faster to realize how it looked. My poor honeybee thought I was rejecting him, when really, I was trying to practice some self-restraint.

“You’re not a snob, Luke. It’s hard to break old habits,” he admits. “And yes, I do call that place home, but don’t feel like you have to keep your opinion from me. I don’t have anywhere else to go, so of course it’s home. Grandpa’s place long since sold, otherwise that would be where I want to be most.”

His gaze doesn’t quite meet mine as he says the words, telling me there’s a note of a lie in them. I’m not sure which part isn’t true — the calling his place home, my opinions, or something about his grandpa’s place.

It doesn’t much matter, really.

He’s given me more than enough to work with. Now that I know my boy isn’t attached to the place itself, I can formulate a plan to get him to stay with me permanently.