Six Tanner

To say the car ride back to Wyatt's apartment had been uncomfortable was the understatement of the year. It was the longest ten minutes of my life. Every few seconds, he stole a glance at me. A few times, he opened his mouth as if he was about to speak, thought better of it, and closed it again. By the time we finally got to his apartment complex, the car was full of so much nervous energy that my skin was crawling. I was only too happy to head to get out of it.

But, as I followed Wyatt up to the front door of his townhouse, I couldn't help feeling a bit nervous myself. I was about to start living with the random straight guy that I'd let fuck me at a business conference. Honestly, I couldn't think of anything more awkward or ridiculous. It was like the plot out of a trashy romance novel. The only thing I knew for certain was that I was never going to sleep in the same bed as him again. Clearly, I couldn't trust myself to know what was good for me. After all, if that night hadn't happened, I might not be in my current predicament.

"Sorry if the place is a little messy," Wyatt said as he pulled the door open. "I didn't know you were coming until today. My father decided to spring it on me."

"Mine too," I replied. "I didn't know until yesterday afternoon."

Wyatt gave me a pitying look. "Sorry."

"About what?"

"That your dad did that to you," he replied. "Mine does shit like that to me too. I hate it, bro."

"Don't call me bro," I snapped, forcing away the attempt at camaraderie. "I'm not your gym buddy or a member of your frat."

His shoulders drooped. "Sorry."

Jesus Christ… he apologized for everything. What happened to the cool, confident guy I met at the hotel? Nothing bothered him. But this Wyatt, the one slouching in front of me, he seemed like he'd been run into the ground. I didn't know if it was because of me, his father, or the business. But then again, I didn't care. That was his problem.

"I'll show you to your room," he said at last, gesturing for me to follow him.

Inside, the apartment was immaculate and large. The entrance opened up into a large living room with the kitchen on the far side, an island separating it from the rest. Opposite the kitchen was a winding set of spiral stairs that led to an open loft overlooking the living room. A hallway to the left of the kitchen led to a bedroom on one side and the bathroom on the other, both of which Wyatt pointed out.

"Your bedroom is over here. I keep a spare bed in it since my father insists on stopping by unannounced all the time. He's got a key to my place, so he doesn't have to stay in a hotel." He pointed toward the vaulted ceiling and the open loft above. "My room is up there."

"Don't your parents have a place in town?" I asked.

"They used to," he sighed. "But they sold it last fall. Now, he and my mom just travel around wherever. I think they're in Maine right now at their oceanfront house. Usually, he just works remotely from there. If he works at all," he scoffed.

If only he knew how easy he had it. At least his father wasn't sitting in the office across the hall breathing down his neck all day like mine did. Although, I didn't have to worry about that for now. Being forced to live in Ludington, Michigan, wasn't a treat, but it definitely wasn't the worst thing that had ever happened to me. Even in the apartment complex, things were quiet. Chicago was always loud, no matter where you were.

"Do you need help with anything?"

I hefted my one duffel bag over my shoulder, my backpack on the other. "Nope. I got it." I headed down the hall but stopped partway. "Do you have a bathroom upstairs?"

"Nah. It's a two-bed, one-bath situation." He turned his gaze away. "We'll… uh… have to share it, I guess."

"Right…"

I started to turn away but stopped once more as I heard Wyatt's voice.

"Do you want anything to eat?" he asked, still staring at the ground. "I can order out if you like. You like Asian food, right?"

I didn't know what came over me as I dropped my duffel on the floor and marched up to him, my finger poking him in the chest.

"Why? Huh?" I asked, gritting my teeth. "You gonna buy me food again to see if you can get a free piece of ass?!"

He looked horrified. "I… I d-don't know what you m-mean."

I furrowed my brows, anger blooming in my chest. "Are you going to sit here and lie to my face and deny anything happened?"

A long silence stretched out between us. At least a dozen emotions crossed Wyatt's face before he clenched his jaw and finally looked up at me once more.

"Nothing happened."

I couldn't help but smile at the preposterousness of the situation.

"Nothing happened? Are you kidding me?"

He took a deep breath. "I… I'm not gay."

Leaning in close, I made sure my lips were within an inch of his. My breath played across his skin, his body tensing as ripples of gooseflesh erupted across his arms. I stared directly into his deep blue eyes, the ones I'd thought were so beautiful that night. Now, they just reminded me of the mistake that had torn my life apart. I saw him for what he truly was: a child too terrified to admit the truth to himself.

Reaching up, I grabbed him by the collar and pulled him close, his body pressed against mine. His breath hitched in his throat, but he made no attempt to pull away. I tore my gaze away for a moment, glancing down at the tent pitched in his dress pants.

"Well, you sure as fuck aren't straight, are you?" I whispered.

The reaction was instantaneous. Wyatt grabbed me by the waist, his fingers digging into my skin. He pushed his lips against mine, the kiss sloppy and pleading. But I was ready for him.

Hooking my foot behind his knee, I gave him a shove, and he toppled to the ground like a ton of bricks, the carpet breaking his fall. He looked shocked and afraid. Because of his actions or mine, I wasn't sure, but I didn't care.

"I don't know what your fucking problem is," I snarled, standing over him. "But I'm not gonna be your personal experiment. I'm here to work for you until my father says I can come home and nothing more." I picked up my duffel once more, throwing it over my shoulder. "Don't fucking talk to me, come near me, or even look at me. Got it?!"

I yanked open the bedroom door, pausing on the threshold.

"And one more thing," I said, turning back to him once more. "If you ever fucking touch me again or kiss me… I'll rip your fucking dick off."

With that, I stepped inside and slammed the door behind me.

What a fucking creep.