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The disappointment that shot through him came with so much humiliation, Geoffrey took a step back. Then another because it felt like being Hulk-punched. The hot, tight clamp around his lungs made words impossible. He wanted to apologize for pushing so hard where he wasn’t wanted, but couldn’t. All he could think was he’d misread the signals. Even that kiss. Somehow, he’d believed…
He’d pushed like this once before and been embarrassed and this time, he didn’t even have booze as an excuse. He’d sobered up long ago.
He couldn’t believe how devastated he felt. And it must have shown on his face.
“Geoffrey—” Sven began, his tone laced with an apology.
He held up a hand because he didn’t want to hear more. The job excuse was bullshit and he knew it. “Hey, no problem,” he finally managed, somewhat proud to hear his voice didn’t shake, which was a miracle considering how much the shame burned a hole in his gut. “I’m going to turn in. See you in the morning.”
He managed to walk a casual, straight line through his living room, but once out of sight in the hall to his room, he moved faster. He shut the door behind him and slumped against it, staring at his hands. They shook. He slid down the door until he sat with his back to it. Burying his head in his hands, he groaned.
Once again, he’d made a complete fool of himself. Wanted someone who thought he was a joke. He’d never had trouble picking up certain kinds of men for the night. Good time guys like Brendon, ones that looked as young or even younger than himself—who were not his preference at all—and then, there were the ones who only liked him because he looked young. He’d played up his youthful face to get what he wanted in the past, but all that had changed after he’d helped out Lucas Vallois one night.
Geoffrey had agreed to play a part in a kind of undercover mission. He’d worn a collar, posing as the sex pet of a rich man, and seen something he hadn’t been able to scrub from his mind since. An actual child trafficking auction in progress. It had sickened him so badly, he’d had nightmares and called his brother every night for two weeks. He’d used his sources to track down entities that fought human trafficking and now steadily donated to them. He’d also developed an aversion to men who were obviously after that sort of thing. But then, the ones he really wanted always pushed him away.
You look like a kid.
I’m not into jailbait.
I prefer my men more…manly.
As if size or a masculine face had anything to do with being a male. Fuckers. He wanted to be with a man who saw him as a man, too, and he felt Sven did. Had felt it with every fiber of his being.
How could he have gotten it so wrong? How could the fire of that kiss have been so one-sided?
“Geoffrey?”
He froze at Sven’s deep voice on the other side of his door. His mouth went dry and he held his breath.
“Come on, Geoffrey, answer me.”
“Just go to bed, Sven.” Exhaustion and resolve made his voice heavy and he didn’t care. “It’s cool.”
A long sigh sounded and Sven’s voice came louder but kind of muffled like he’d placed his face against the door. “No, it’s not. I’m sorry I hurt you and I owe you an explanation.”
“You don’t owe me shit, Larsen. Really, I get it. You aren’t the first man to tell me no and trust me, I understand why. I’m fine.”
“You’re sitting on the floor.”
Shit. He hadn’t even thought about Sven figuring that out from the location of his voice. He also didn’t have a handy excuse, so he just stayed quiet.
Cloth rustling and a grunt sounded from the other side of the door before it rattled against his back. “Now, I’m on the floor, too. I want you to listen, okay?”
Geoffrey turned to the side and rested his temple against the wood. He heard Sven’s breathing, heard him moving around to get comfortable and pictured that big body slumped in his hallway. “I’m all ears,” he said softly.
“I lied. I do want you, Geoffrey. I’ve been attracted to you from the beginning.”
Geoffrey sat up. “Then why are you fighting this so hard? You don’t really believe you’ll lose your job, right?”
“No, I don’t. But there is a line I shouldn’t cross with you and I take my work very seriously.”
He admired that about Sven, but he wanted the bodyguard to take him seriously. And he had no idea how to go about getting that because none of his former boyfriends or lovers had ever really taken him that way. He was the entertaining party boy—great for a fun night or two of sex, but not worth more. He opened his mouth, then snapped it shut because he just flat out didn’t know how to convey what he wanted. What he suspected might be more than want and edging into the need category.
