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Dom looked up when Garrett walked back in from the balcony, sliding his cell phone into his pocket. The handsome bodyguard grinned at him. “The boss says you did a good job.”
“A good job?” Trent scoffed, popping his head up. “The guy’s a freaking hero. He kicked a man out a window!”
“Yeah, they’re already talking about that back at the office.”
“I can’t even do that without breakaway glass,” Trent muttered, seeming a little disappointed in his skills, now that he’d seen the real thing in person.
Dom grinned at Trent. The guy was really starting to grow on him. “I’ve seen your movies. You’ve done plenty of really cool things.”
“Don’t patronize me, Strawberry Shortcake,” Trent said, pointing his beer bottle at Dom. “You’re a goddamn hero.”
“Just doing my job. The boss said to protect you at any cost. That includes defenestration.”
“Defene-what?” Garrett said.
“Defenestration. It means to throw out a window.”
Trent chuckled. “You’re weird.”
“You’re also off the clock,” Garrett added. “I’ve got things covered until Sven comes on shift at midnight. Though I imagine you’ve done all the hard work, and things are going to be pretty quiet.”
Trent lurched into an upright position, nearly spilling his beer down the front of his T-shirt, and grinned at Dom. “Stay. We’ll drink and order up some of the biggest steaks we can get our hands on in this city. No more fans or reporters. We’ll just bullshit and drink.”
For a heartbeat, Dom actually considered it. Trent Elrige was, deep down, a nice guy who could probably use a friend he could trust. And Dom was seriously flattered that he would consider him for the position. But Trent’s advice was still ringing in his head.
“I’d like to, but you gave me some advice earlier, and I’d really like to see if I can get that breakfast. Raincheck?”
Trent’s smile turned a little bittersweet, but he nodded. “Absolutely.”
Garrett was giving Dom a look like he’d lost his fucking mind, but he just winked at his friend, knowing he’d have to explain later.
He pushed to his feet and Trent suddenly slammed his beer on the table and hurried over to the desk. He scribbled something down on a piece of paper and tore it off. When he handed it over, Dom was shocked to find that it was a phone number. It was very likely Trent’s personal cell phone number. He was holding the personal cell number for an A-list celebrity. Holy. Fucking. Shit.
“Before I forget. I’m only in town for a few more days, and I want to hear about your breakfast.” Trent paused and gave a self-deprecating little roll of his eyes. “You know, so I can live vicariously through you.”
“You’ll get there.”
Trent smiled. “Thanks again, Strawberry Shortcake.”
“Fucking hack,” Dom muttered and then threw Trent one last grin before leaving with the number in his pocket.
By the time he reached the elevator, Dom had pulled up Abe’s contact information on his cell phone.
D: I just turned down Trent Elrige for a date. Poor guy. He was crushed.
He quickly checked through a couple of other messages from his coworkers and cleaned out some spam email that had arrived during the day. He was just about to put his phone into his pocket again when a message from Abe pinged through.
A: Why would you do such a damn fool thing?
D: No more hit movies, no more sweaty tattoos on the big screen. He’s retiring to lick his wounds. I’ve deprived the world of an international treasure.
A: I bow down to your powers of heartbreak.
Dom paused and licked his lips. Nothing ventured, nothing gained.
D: Instead, how about you come over to my place for celebratory tacos and I tell you how I pretended to be a superhero today?
He waited. His damn heart was pounding harder than when he’d fought Trent’s would-be killer. What if Abe said no? It wouldn’t be the first time, but Dom felt like he was getting down to the last of his chances with Abe. He didn’t want to push the guy, but he also didn’t want to be strung along with no hope.
The elevator chimed as it reached the lobby. Dom started to put his phone away when a message popped up.
A: What should I bring?Chapter TwoAbe Stephens set down his phone and pressed his forehead against the wall. He groaned long and loud. Flirting with danger seemed to be his M.O. more and more these days. It was getting too damn hard to resist Dominic Walsh. He was hands down one of the sexiest men he’d ever met. One chime from his phone and he was hurriedly pulling up the app, hoping it was Dom with his funny texts. Some of which left him feeling faintly sweaty and tempted to go back on his vow to start looking for someone who’d be interested in a more permanent arrangement rather than the wild, string-free fling he was sure Dom was looking for.
