Chapter Two

Silence penetrated his sleep. It was too quiet to be Matt's condo. He rolled. The tearing of his skin when he moved his arms brought all the memories crashing back. For a moment, Matt gathered his thoughts. After some rest, Matt didn't feel quite as depressed or panicked. He still needed to get his life in order, though. His mind shifted to Slater. The way he had tucked Matt into bed made Matt blush suddenly for no reason at all. No one had ever cared for him as if he were a child, even when he had been a child.

A duke. That couldn't be true. Matt dug the phone from his pocket. He couldn't believe he had slept with everything still in his jeans. No denying he had been exhausted. His battery was already in the red. Matt used what was left to search for Slater's name. It popped up immediately: His Grace William Slater White, Duke of Kilshire. It was his picture.

"Well, fuck."

His phone died before he could read more. With a sigh, Matt rolled upward. He eyed the room. Clean clothes and a tray of food sat nearby with a note. Matt climbed from the bed and padded across the room. A smile tugged at his lips at the sight of fancy handwriting.

Please feel free to shower after you eat. Everything you need should be here.

—S

Matt eyed the chair. Sure enough, clothes and toiletries waited. Matt shook his head. Who was this man? Surely, he had better things to do than care for Matt. Matt couldn't believe the guy's servants or whatever they were hadn't thrown him in the street. He could be anyone.

Still, the food looked delicious. He eyed it closer. It was some sort of thick sandwich and fruit. Matt chuckled at the juice box and cookies. Oddly, he looked forward to that. He couldn't remember the last time he had a juice box.

Matt moved the clothes to the bathroom. It was just a t-shirt, pajama pants, and thick socks, but they were so soft. He fought the urge to rub his face on the pants. With the chair empty, Matt pulled it closer to the tray. The first bite of the sandwich made him hum. He was more than a little grateful no one was there to witness the way he inhaled the food. Matt stared at the empty tray in horror. It seemed he was a lot more starved than he'd realized. Rider's assistant, Ben, had bought him lunch while they waited on Rider, but Matt hadn't finished it before all hell broke loose. Before that, Matt couldn't recall the last time he ate. His father had passed only two weeks earlier. He had been released from the team. Life just pulled the rug out from beneath him, leaving him reeling. Matt hadn't taken care of himself the way he should. It was just too damn exhausting.

With a sigh, he headed back to the bathroom. Matt caught sight of himself in the mirror and cringed. No wonder Slater had taken pity on him. Matt looked like dog shit. He eyed the rest of the bathroom. It was obvious the entire historic home had been renovated, but he loved the simple choices for the bathroom. Clawfoot tub. Walk-in shower. If his mom had this house, the entire place would have the trimmings of a hundred-million-dollar mansion. He hadn't always preferred his mom's expensive tastes. At times, it bordered on gaudy. Matt showered, taking his time. It felt good beneath the hot water. Matt smelled the shampoo and body wash. They were fruit scented. Secretly, that was his favorite. He didn't really like all the weird "manly" scents available. Maybe he wanted to smell like strawberries too.

Once he was cleaned and cooing inside over the comfy pjs, Matt grabbed his phone and headed into the hall. He had been so out of it on the way upstairs; he didn't really recall the way back downstairs. Matt wandered for a minute before finding a staircase. He headed down. The house was quiet. He didn't pass anyone along the way. Matt saw the sitting room from earlier and went inside. Slater sat quietly, reading. He didn't notice Matt right away, giving Matt time to watch him without shame. He wore glasses and looked like he had a nice lap to curl into.

Matt blinked at the thought. That wasn't a desire he ever experienced, but he did now. He very much wanted to be held and told everything would be all right. Matt didn't think he'd ever had that. Apparently, having Slater tuck him in earlier had unleashed something needy inside him.

Finally, Slater glanced up and caught sight of him hovering in the doorway.

"Hey," Matt said, sounding dumb even to his ears.

Slater smiled. "Hey. I see you found the clothes I left for you."

Things should have felt awkward. Matt didn't understand why they didn't. He wanted to sit and talk with Slater. Unfortunately, Slater was reading and probably didn't feel the same.

Matt held up his phone. "My phone died. Do you have a charger I can borrow?"

Slater set his book on the end table and dug around next to the loveseat. He motioned for Matt to join him and hand him his phone. Matt filled the spot beside Slater and passed him the phone. Slater plugged it in.

"There," Slater said, setting the phone aside. He focused on Matt. "How are you feeling?"

Matt shrugged. "A little better. My head has cleared some. When my phone charges, I'll find a hotel. You've been beyond kind, but I need to sit down and figure out my next steps."

"You'll stay."

It wasn't a harsh command, but it was definitely an order. Oddly, Matt's shoulders relaxed—like the burden of decision making had been lifted from them. Still, out of politeness, he argued. He didn't want Slater to think he took advantage of his kindness. "No. I should go. The last thing I want is to make you feel obligated or anything like that. I mean, I've already burned out my older brother and made him think I only come around when I want something." The more Matt talked, the harder it got to breathe. "That's something I really hate about myself. It's not that I don't care about people. I'm just not very responsible and I forget things a lot. Maybe I'm just like my mom and never realized. It's possible I'm just selfish." He tried sucking air. "Can a person be a narcissist blood sucker without even realizing it?"

Somehow, Matt found his head against Slater's chest. Slater's fingers ran through Matt's hair. "It's okay. Just take a moment to breathe. You wouldn't be worried about hurting others and being a narcissist if you were one. People like that aren't concerned about anyone else. In just a few hours of knowing you, you've already proven that isn't true. You care about people."

The steady sound of Slater's heartbeat soothed Matt even more than his words. Matt breathed. His heart rate slowed. The fact that he was squashed against Slater's chest truly penetrated his panicked brain. He did nothing to remedy the situation. Slater was warm and smelled good. His fingers felt good in Matt's hair. He hadn't realized how badly he needed to be held until it happened.

Matt took a few breaths. "I'm sorry. It's been a rough few weeks. I lost my dad and my job. My brother is probably done with me, and I need to put my condo on the market. No job in Canada means I can't stay there. Not that I can afford it without a job. I wasn't exactly one of those high paid players." He took another breath. "Sorry. I don't know why I'm trauma-dumping on you. You don't deserve this."

His phone made a sound as it came back to life. Slater passed it Matt's way, stretching the cord across him. He never stopped holding Matt.

"Here. Unlock your phone. We'll get started sorting your life."

Matt sniffed as he straightened away from Slater. He eyed the device. "Okay." Damn. Why did he keep agreeing to things? "I don't even know where to start."

Slater found his phone beneath the book he had set aside. "All right. Give me your address."

Matt didn't know why Slater wanted it, but he rattled it off, nonetheless.

Slater nodded along and typed on his phone. "Okay. It looks like you paid one point two five million for your condo three years ago. The surrounding condos are going for around three now. So, you'll do good there. You won't be broke. Unfortunately, you'll lose about eight hundred thousand in conversion when you move back to the states. Thankfully, it's considerably cheaper to live here in New Orleans. You could easily find a nice house for three hundred thousand. After moving expenses and everything, you'd still probably have a good seven hundred thousand to invest and live comfortably until you find your footing. Plus, you could and should hang on to some of your money without converting it. That way, you can wait for the market to be in your favor." His gaze lifted from his phone and settled on Matt. "Do you have any money saved?"

Matt nodded. "Yeah. I can't remember how much at the moment, but I'm not flat broke yet."

A sexy smile stretched Slater's lips. "You won't be. I'll help you find an agent tomorrow and get started on setting up some mixed mutual funds and other investments. You'd be surprised how long you can live off that much money."

Matt blew out a sigh. "As long as I can keep my mom out of it. That's why I'm in the position I'm in now. She has a habit of guilting me out of every dime. Every time I think I'm doing okay, it's something else she needs. With Dad gone, there's no one reining her in."

Matt rubbed his forehead, forgetting about the road rash. His fingers came away bloody. Matt's eyes fell closed. He just wanted a break. One goddamn break. He had never been more tired in his life.

The defeat on Matt's face had feelings stirring. His talk of his mother had Slater ready to slay dragons. He had faced similar battles in his life. Slater understood how easily family could suck the life from someone. He also felt a ton of outrage on Matt's behalf. How dare his brother abandon him and his mother use him? He was obviously an amazing person. Slater had to convince him to stay awhile. Just long enough for Slater to teach him how to survive an ugly family. Matt wasn't broke. Slater could show him how to set boundaries and keep himself and his finances safe.

For now, Matt needed to focus on something else. Slater stood. "Come on. Let me bandage your wounds again and then we'll find something fun to do."

Matt smiled and set his phone aside. "Okay."

Slater's heart skipped a beat. He looked young. "How old are you?"

"Twenty-eight." Matt didn't stop smiling. "Why? How old are you?"

Laughter escaped Slater. "Not twenty-eight." He headed for the kitchen, still holding Matt's hand.

Matt didn't let it go. "I bet I could Google you and find out for myself."

Damn. Slater sighed. He probably could do that. "I'm forty-one."

"Hey. You're the same age as my oldest brother, except he'll be forty-two pretty soon."

Slater led Matt to a stool at the island in the center of the kitchen. "Sit." Matt did as told and Slater wet a paper towel to clean Matt's re-opened wound. He gently patted Matt's forehead while holding up his end of the conversation. "Is this the same brother who you say is done with you?"

"Yeah." Matt sounded sad again. He perked up again, proving he was normally a happier person. "I have a middle brother too. Harlan. He's thirty-three. He plays pro football for Los Angeles."

"How is your relationship with him?" Slater wanted to know about Matt's life, but also wanted to keep him distracted.

"It's fine. We're much closer in age, so he's more like a brother than another parent the way Rider is. Our schedules stop us from seeing each other often." Matt chewed his bottom lip for a moment, holding Slater hostage with the sight. He had a sexy mouth. Slater wondered how many hearts he had broken. After a moment, Matt released his lip. However, his expression remained guilty. "Honestly, I disapprove of a lot of his life choices. He's a lot like our dad. Dad never stayed faithful, and Harlan seems to have inherited that. Mom says he has a few children he claims aren't his, but women have contacted her with different stories. I don't know what to believe. But if it's true, it's hard to respect that. It's not right to abandon children."

Uh oh. Slater was in trouble. Matt was amazing. Slater was weak. It had been too long since he spent time with someone like Matt. All the alarm bells were clanging. He needed to take a step back. That was not what happened.

He finished bandaging Matt's wounds. "When was the last time you colored?"

Matt blinked. "Like my hair?"

A smile exploded across Slater's lips. "A coloring book."

Matt's open confusion was adorable. "I have no idea. Maybe kindergarten."

Slater nodded. "When was the last time you built a fort out of blankets and had a slumber party?"

"Never."

"Time to remedy that. Help me hunt and gather."

Even though he looked confused as fuck, Matt slipped from the stool and followed Slater. First, Slater raided the fridge for junk food and drinks. He handed those to Matt before heading back to the sitting room. Slater grabbed every throw blanket he could find before leading Matt to the elevator. Matt didn't question a thing as they made their way back upstairs. This time, Slater took Matt to his bedroom.

"Set that stuff on the table for now."

Matt moved to the coffee table in the sitting area of Slater's bedroom and dumped their haul.

He turned in a circle, eyeing Slater's room. "This house is the most beautiful place I've ever seen. It's obvious it's had work done but still stayed true to its history. I love it. It even has that smell."

Matt didn't have to explain what he meant. Slater loved the scent of an old house. He loved this home. Slater had poured his heart into it since buying it a year and a half ago. It still needed work, but it was a labor of love project. His gaze slid around the room, seeing what Matt saw. Huge four-poster bed with antique side tables. Sitting area with settee and wingback chairs, waiting for a quiet night. There were closed shutters over the large windows and even the wallpaper had been chosen with care. This was his haven.

"This house means everything to me. I'm glad you like it." Before he got emotional, Slater dumped the blankets he held on the floor and then pulled more from the bed. After finding a mound of bedding, he showed Matt how to make the perfect-sized fort for two with covers and pillows waiting inside.

"If you take our food inside, I'll grab the coloring books."

Matt's smile looked adorable as he crawled inside their fort with their snacks. Slater moved to the closet to find the coloring books he kept stashed. He hadn't touched them in years. When Slater opened the tote where he kept them stored, he froze. An old familiar pain washed over him. He had left this life behind. Slater didn't want to be anyone's caretaker again. Yet he watched himself grab all the art supplies they needed. Slater told himself this was different. He was simply trying to make Matt feel better. They weren't a couple. He had nothing to lose. Slater felt sick at the sight of all Shea's things. God. He hated the way Shea had broken something inside him. Shea wouldn't ruin this.

Slater carried the art supplies to the fort and joined Matt inside. The tension in his chest disappeared at the sight of Matt's huge smile.

"This is awesome. We never did things like this when I was a kid. Mom didn't want her house to look like any children lived there. We were very much out of sight and out of mind. Dad played with us outside, usually training us to be successful and carry on the family tradition of being great. Otherwise, we were kept quiet."

Slater held up two coloring books. "Do you want naughty words or naughty pictures?"

A loud laugh burst from Matt at the adult coloring books. "Surprise me."

"Okay." Slater put the books behind his back and shuffled them before handing one to Matt at random. It was the one with explicit images.

Matt laughed again as he flipped through the pages. "It looks like someone has already done the first few."

Slater swallowed past the lump in his throat and changed the subject. "When I was a child, more than half my day was being trained to honor my station. I had to find ways to entertain myself." He opened a package of cookies and set them between them.

"Are you happy?"

The quietly spoken question blindsided Slater. No one ever asked him that. In fact, he didn't think anyone had ever even cared. He didn't know how to answer, so Slater went with what he knew. "I am right now."

Matt beamed. "Me too." He held up the coloring book. "Blow job or…" He flipped the page. "Getting bent over a chair?"

Slater eyed the pages, taking the question seriously. "Getting bent over the chair."

With a nod, Matt shifted positions, settling on his stomach. He grabbed a crayon and got to work. Slater watched him for much longer than necessary. The truth hit. Overall, he wasn't happy. This was the life he wanted. No one out there wanted to share it with him.