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“Adorable?” Julien said with raised brows.
“Not the word I was thinking of.”
“Cheeky? Incorrigible? How about sexy? Because that young man is…lovely.”
Priest rubbed a hand over his face. “How about frustrating?”
Julien slipped off his stool and walked around to where Priest stood. “He’s going to be fun.”
“You say that like you know the outcome of this, when really we know no more than we did last night.”
Julien ran a finger down Priest’s tie. “You’re right. But what I do know is that he’s in that room over there, and I think you should take him a cup of coffee and wish him a good morning.”
Priest glanced at his watch. “I don’t have—”
“Joel.”
Priest looked up at the firm tone with which Julien said his name, and the serious glint in his husband’s usually carefree eyes had him giving a clipped nod. “Fine.”
The bagels popped up, and Priest smeared them with cream cheese before putting them on a plate, and as he did, Julien filled a mug and held it out to him. “Go and wish him a good morning, Mr. Priestley. This is, after all, the moment we’ve been waiting for.”
Priest leaned down and kissed Julien’s cheek. “I’m only doing this for one reason.”
As he crossed the living room, he heard Julien say, “Now who’s lying to himself? Remember, mon amour. Be nice.” When Priest glanced over his shoulder, Julien added, “Well, as nice as you can be.”
THE FAR-OFF sound of alarm chimes got progressively louder inside Robbie’s skull until the incessant noise had him rubbing at the side of his head in an attempt to make it stop.
Ugh, he felt terrible. But that was what one got when they decided to drink their loneliness away, he supposed. He cracked open an eye to reach for his phone and turn off the horrid sound, and when he swung his arm out where his bedside table usually was, he was stunned that his hand fell down on—nothing.
What the hell?
His eyes flew open, and the brightness from the sun streaming into the room made him wince as he spotted a three-panel mirrored closet staring back at him. When he didn’t immediately recognize his surroundings, Robbie jackknifed up, clutched the covers to his chest, and brought his other hand up to his head, which felt like it was about to roll off his shoulders.
Damn those Bitter Bitches…
“If your head hurts half as bad as it appears, you’re going to need something stronger than coffee.” Priest’s deep voice filled the room, and Robbie blinked several times and focused on the mirrors on the closet.
In the reflection, he saw off-white curtains that framed a window, and the plush mattress he was sitting on, which felt as soft as he imagined a cloud would.
Priest was on a cream chair dressed in a dark grey suit, black shirt, and striped tie to match the handkerchief he’d folded and stuffed in his breast pocket. And beside him, up against the far wall, was a light grey tallboy with a crystal vase and… Are they white roses?
The room felt familiar but…different. It was elegant, modern, a designer’s dream, and when Robbie finally found his tongue, the first thing out of his mouth was: “How did I end up here? With you?”
“You’ll have to be more specific than that,” Priest said, as Robbie held the cover to his body like it was a lifeline and shifted on the bed so he was facing Priest.
“That was pretty fucking specific.”
Priest uncrossed his legs and got to his feet, and Robbie found himself mesmerized by the way he slowly began to button his jacket.
“No, it wasn’t. Do you want to know how you ended up in this condo with me? This bedroom with me? Or that bed…on your own?” Priest said. “Those are three different questions. With three very different answers.”
As Priest walked toward him, Robbie looked around, hoping to spot Priest’s other, less intimidating half. But when he didn’t see Julien anywhere, he said, “All of that. I want to know all of that. And you can stop right there, mister.”
Priest tilted his head to the side, studying Robbie where he sat. “Very well. Let me see. First you passed out in my car after defiling my ears with your singing.”
Defiling his—Oh yeah, Starship. Robbie remembered that.
He opened his mouth to speak, but Priest pressed his finger to Robbie’s lips and said, “I’m not finished,” and Robbie quickly shut his mouth. “I then carried you to the elevator, and Julien and I brought you upstairs to our place.”
Robbie’s eyes widened. Okay, he so didn’t remember that. Not the elevator ride. Not the being carried part. And how could he forget that? Had Priest carried him over his shoulder, fireman style? Or in his arms like Prince Charming? Except, you know, minus the charming part. “I don’t remember any of that.”
