Chapter Three

As hard as Matt tried, he couldn't stop watching Slater. He was such a calm and steady person. Patient. Kind. Matt had the best night of his life on one of his worst days because this stranger became a hero. He scooped up Matt and comforted him. Slater made him curious as hell. No doubt it was dumb as fuck, but Matt sat quietly, allowing Slater free access to his finances. The worst Slater could do was wipe his accounts. He wouldn't be the first. Matt's mom had gotten there several times before him. He was the weakest link in their family.

"Is it okay if I ask you something?"

Slater glanced up from his laptop at the question. "Of course."

Matt needed to know more about him. "When we collided on the sidewalk yesterday, you didn't even look my way. You were like a man on a mission, storming your way to the car. I tried chasing after you to give you your wallet. But it was like you were blind with fury. I know we've just met, but that seems very unlike you. Would you like to talk about it?" Slater had been there for him in the past twenty-four hours. Matt wanted to do the same.

A sweet smile crossed Slater's face. "I appreciate your offer. It was nothing, really. I was leaving my solicitor's office after a negotiation breakdown. Just business."

Matt nodded. "Okay. I just wanted to check."

Slater set the laptop aside. "I just emailed a realtor in your area. While we wait to hear back, why don't I make us some hot chocolate?"

Matt didn't think he had daddy issues or childhood trauma or anything like that. But he was strangely enjoying the way Slater treated him like a child. All the things he didn't realize he missed, Slater offered—like this was how normal people lived. Maybe they did. Matt had never been special to anyone. Slater made him feel that way. Maybe because he knew it was temporary, Matt couldn't stop soaking in every second.

"I'd love that."

Together, they stood and headed for the kitchen. George and Aisling milled around. When they saw Slater pull out the stuff to make cocoa, they exchanged a glance and left the kitchen. Matt stared at the spot where they had been. That look between them bothered Matt for some unknown reason. It was like they shared a moment at Matt's expense. He didn't know what he had done wrong.

"Are you okay?"

At Slater's question, Matt shook himself from his thoughts. He didn't let the matter brew and undermine him. "I don't think your staff likes me, or you doing anything for me."

Slater didn't look up from his task. "They're probably just confused about me being in the kitchen. I don't come in here often."

Matt didn't think that was the case, but he let it go.

Slater changed the subject. "What would you like to do with your future now that the world is your oyster?"

The question made Matt's brain lag like a ten-year-old laptop. "Um. I have no idea. Before a few days ago, I thought I had a good decade of hockey left in me. Now that I've taken a step back, I realize my reflexes have slowed. I'm not as good as I used to be. I'm definitely not good enough to play pro any longer."

"What did you do before hockey?"

Matt shrugged. "There's no before hockey, really. I've played all my life. But I also went to college on a full-ride scholarship thanks to the sport. I have an engineering degree, but it just seemed like the thing to do at the time. It's not something I've ever wanted to do with my life."

Slater looked up from pouring hot milk into two cups. "Engineering? You must be pretty damn smart. Don't most schools require a minimum of a 3.0 to go that route?"

Matt's face heated. He shrugged. "Actually, I graduated Summa Cum Laude. Not that it matters. School has nothing to do with real life. Nobody cares if you're smart. At least, that's what my mom has always said."

With a shake of his head, Slater went back to focusing on their drinks. "Beautiful and smart. I can't imagine what your life has been like."

That threw Matt for a loop. Despite being called beautiful, which warmed his chest, Slater's comment bugged him. "What do you mean? You're beautiful and obviously very intelligent. Honestly, you seem way smarter than me. Unless you meant that in a bad way, then I'm sorry."

Slater waited until Matt finished. "Are you done making me angry?"

Matt blinked. That tracked. Everyone was always upset with him. "Sorry." Even Matt heard the hurt in his mumbled apology. He glanced around. It seemed he had overstayed his welcome. "I guess I should get out of your hair." He hated he had stayed too long and made Slater feel the way he always made people feel. It was like he was broken in some important way.

Suddenly, Slater was inches from Matt. Matt hadn't seen him move. Slater held his face between his hands. "Take a breath, angel. You're okay. I have you."

Matt didn't realize he was hyperventilating until air finally reached his brain. He couldn't look away from Slater's dark green eyes.

Slater swiped his thumbs back and forth across Matt's cheeks, comforting him. "Just breathe and listen, okay? I would never insult you. I simply meant you must have people falling at your feet, begging to be with you. You're gorgeous and obviously amazing. Anyone would be lucky to be near you."

"Okay." Matt didn't know if he believed it and his voice sounded weak, but he agreed. For Slater's sake, he would listen. He didn't understand what was wrong with him. Matt just felt so goddamn weak. He was tired. Matt didn't want to figure out how to exist any longer. He just wanted to close his eyes and let the world move along without him. Matt was done.

In the span of minutes, Slater learned so much. Saw too much. Matt obviously didn't realize it, but he was in the middle of breaking down. It was a meltdown that had obviously been a long time coming. The guy didn't even recognize the abuse he suffered at the hands of his family. Probably because most people thought of bruises when they heard the word abuse. But there were other ways to harm someone. Arguably worse ways. Matt needed someone to protect him. Goddamn it. Slater wanted the job. There was no faking the way Matt had completely checked out while falling into a major panic attack. Slater had spent several minutes trying to convince him to breathe properly. This was about more than losing a job. Slater honestly believed that was simply the final nail in the coffin. Matt was spiraling.

Once he knew Matt would keep breathing, he snagged a coffee cup and pulled it closer. "Drink this, gorgeous. It'll make you feel better."

"The items you requested have arrived, Your Grace. I've put everything in your bedroom."

Slater glanced toward the door at George's words. "Thank you, George." He focused on Matt. "Right on time. Come with me. Bring your chocolate. I know what you need."

Since Matt still looked a little shaky, Slater held his hand on the way upstairs. They took the lift so Slater could be sure Matt's legs would hold him. He looked pale and still a bit lost. Slater wanted to kick himself for telling Matt he made him angry. He hadn't thought before speaking. Slater just hated the way Matt shrugged off his worth.

Inside Slater's bedroom, their fort sat untouched. The staff knew better than to remove anything made for his boy. Matt wasn't his, but still. A mound of bags sat on Slater's bed. He headed that way. Matt followed at a slower pace. Slater didn't waste time. He was more excited and nervous than he wanted to believe. The first thick pair of pjs he found, Slater grabbed them and turned Matt's way.

"Put this on."

With his hot chocolate held between his hands, Matt eyed the puppy pajamas. "Is that a onesie?"

Slater nodded. "It's comforting. You'll see."

He held his breath. If Matt refused, Slater would have to accept that answer, but he really wanted this for Matt… and maybe a little for himself too.

Matt set his cup on the bedside table and took the onesie pajamas from Slater. He inspected them. After a moment, he shrugged and tossed them onto the bed. Before Slater experienced a moment of disappointment, Matt peeled his shirt up and over his head. Slater didn't look away. Not even when Matt pushed his pajama pants down his hips. He wasn't wearing underpants. Slater knew he should turn his head, or at least not openly stare. He did neither. Slater's gaze ate alive every delicious inch of Matt. Matt was obviously unconcerned by the way Slater gawked. He grabbed the onesie and stepped into the leg holes. Slater watched Matt cover the body he suddenly and very desperately wanted. After sticking his arms in the armholes, Matt struggled a bit with the zipper.

"Let me." Slater closed the distance between them. He worked on the zipper, sliding it upward. Slater nearly whimpered when that sexy cock disappeared behind the doggy-shaped material. Then Slater straightened, pulling the zipper to the center of Matt's chest. They were inches apart. Their gazes locked. Matt's eyes hooded. His gaze dropped to Slater's mouth. Slater fought the urge to lick his lips. He swore he could already taste Matt.

"Can I ask a huge favor?"

God. Slater would give him anything. "Yes."

"Would you hold me?"

Matt didn't need to expound. Slater wanted to touch him. He turned away and grabbed the bags on the bed. After moving them to the chair, Slater climbed onto the bed and settled on his side. He patted the mattress next to him.

With some obvious trepidation, Matt set one knee on the mattress. He looked like he might run. His expression hurt Slater's chest. Matt was a man who didn't get held. Slater saw the truth in every tense line. People looked at Matt's solid frame and put him in a box. They saw him as strong and independent. People saw him as someone who didn't need a soft place. Slater knew because everyone saw him the same way.

Finally, Matt settled next to Slater. Slater snagged his waist and dragged him closer, tucking him against his chest. A tremor ran through Slater. His arms had been empty for a long time. Matt wasn't the only one of them who needed this. Time passed. Neither of them spoke. Occasionally, without thinking, Slater touched his lips to Matt's temple. He soaked up the sound of Matt's breathing. His warmth. Contentment washed over him. Their feet brushed. Slater closed his eyes and took a steadying breath. Damn. He missed this.

"I have to go back to Canada."

Slater's throat swelled. "I know."

"What will you do? What do your days look like?"

Slater massaged Matt's stomach, trying to soothe his heart. "I'll putter around the house. Read. Ruminate."

"Ruminate," Matt repeated. Slater heard the smile in his voice.

He nodded. "The life of a royal. Brooding about life while rusting away. Stay out of the news. Don't tarnish the family name. It's a quiet existence for a position no one cares about and has no purpose."

"What would you do with your life, if you could do something different?"

Matt constantly asked questions no one else did. He was unique. "Actually, I have a degree in psychology. I've always wanted to help people, even though I've always known I wouldn't be allowed to truly pursue that career."

"You're helping me."

Slater didn't know how to respond, so he said nothing. In his heart, Slater knew his motives weren't pure when it came to Matt. Surely Matt knew it too.

Matt rolled and held his stare. "What are we doing here with the coloring and the pajamas?"

There was no reason to lie. "I'm teaching you to embrace simple comforts. Sometimes, you need to take a step back from the strain of being an adult. It's important for you to let the world spin without you carrying it sometimes. You don't have to stress every second of the day." Slater's hand moved to Matt's hip. He rubbed. "It's okay to choose fuzzy pajamas and hot chocolate. You're still allowed to build a fort and color. In fact, you're even more allowed to do all those things now than you ever were as a child. So why are you choosing stress?"

Matt's gaze moved over Slater's face. When he spoke, his voice came out quiet. "I'm incredibly jealous of whoever it is that stops you from kissing me. It's in your eyes that I'm not the one you want. I feel like I've known you forever and I can't explain it. You have a flawless soul. It's so beautiful, it's blinding. I hope your life turns out to be just as perfect. I'm sorry I'm not whoever colored the first pages of those books. Right now, I wish I was him."

The lump in Slater's throat nearly choked him. He felt like he was drowning. Shea always stole everything beautiful from him. Matt was everything he described Slater as being. He deserved to be loved completely and purely.

"There's nothing I want more than to kiss you." Slater's voice wouldn't move beyond a whisper. "But you deserve more than I have left to give."

A wry smile touched Matt's lips. "Your ten percent has been way more than anyone else has ever given me."

"That's the saddest thing I've ever heard."

Matt shrugged. "But it's true."

Slater didn't want to let Matt leave this place untouched, but he would. The clothes and luggage he had sent George to buy waited nearby. Matt would go back to Canada and figure out what he wanted from the rest of his life. Hopefully, he would look back on Slater fondly. That wouldn't happen if Slater used him. They both knew it, and Slater couldn't live with that.