Yay. Go team.
We aren’t even out of the room when the notification pings on both of our phones and I groan, loudly, when I see the first session is this evening.
‘Anna works fast,’ Kian says dryly as he strides ahead of me, always seemingly desperate to be out of my presence.
‘Damage control is literally her job.’ I’m blunt, but I really can’t be bothered with this shit right now. I hate that his comments have actually started to get to me. I should probably just ask him why he’s being such a prick, but that would mean having to be around his shitty attitude even more.
I won’t be going to this media training, even if it gets me booted off the team.
I don’t mean that, but it’s how I feel right now. I’m more of an act-now-think-later kind of guy.
‘I’m probably going to head up to the pool,’ he says. He runs his hand through his hair, hesitating, and I can practically hear his teeth grinding, like he’s forcing out an attempt at an olive branch, like he might be about to invite me along.
So, this is what it takes for Kian to be nice? Being bollocked by his handler.
Except the invite doesn’t follow and I’m left looking at him a little expectantly as we climb into the lift. Probably like a child desperate for a party invite. Not my style, at all. Yet I still want him to ask.
I huff and he has the audacity to raise an eyebrow at me in the mirror.
‘Guess I’m gonna head back to bed for a bit,’ I add, not that he was courteous enough to ask if I had any plans.
And then, out of nowhere, a thought occurs to me and I cannot dislodge it. Kian Walker in tiny little Speedos. Why does it still have such appeal when he’s shown himself to be nothing but a dick in real life?
‘What do you swim in?’ Curiosity gets the better of me and I almost need to know the answer for my own piece of mind.
‘Um … the hotel pool?’ He says it likeI’mthe idiot here. ‘It’s got two. An indoor and an outdoor one.’ He has such a stick up his ass. I’m smiling and shaking my head, but he’s just glaring at me like he can’t quite figure out what he’s said that’s so funny.
‘I meant clothing-wise,’ I add, looking him straight in the eye and returning his challenging eyebrow raise for good measure.
‘Oh.’ That stops him in his tracks. He has to be well aware at this point that I’m gay. If not, he truly must live under the world’s biggest rock. Maybe I’ve succeeded in makinghimuncomfortable.
His cheeks tinge the slightest shade of pink and his hands grip the rail at the back of the lift. I should just laugh it off at this point, because I actually don’t want him to think I’m some perve who’s going to be watching him change in the locker room or whatever, but his reaction is interesting.
It doesn’t look like he’s actually angry that I’m sticking my nose where it doesn’t need to be.Very interesting indeed.
It takes twelve floors before he finally collects himself and says, ‘Normal swimming trunks,’ like it’s no big deal. But I watched him before he said anything and it looked like he really turned that answer over in his head.
I don’t say anything more. Of course, he gave the most boring answer in the world, but it’s his reaction that’s provided me with something to think about.
Like, maybe he’s not as straight as I thought he was.
‘Disappointing,’ I mutter, but my heart’s not in the teasing anymore. Kian really does suck all the joy out of everything.
When the lift gets to our floor, he’s out of there so fast that I’m left blinking in the glare of the lights, while he’s disappearing down the corridor and into his suite.
I do love that we’re getting along so well.
I make good on my words and climb back into bed, as it’s still not even 9am. Except going to sleep with the image of Kian in just Speedos is not a good idea.
Because I end up dreaming of him in a deserted pool, the teeny-tiny Speedos abandoned on the side, the two of us getting hot and heavy in the glow of a thousand stars.
Until Anders walks into the dream and ruins everything.
It’s almost eleven when I shoot awake, sweat beading on my forehead and a raging hard-on in my boxers. I groan, brilliant, another issue caused by Kian.
Can I really blame this one on him? Or is this my punishment for messing with him? I think about him blushing in the lift, which does nothing to help my current situation. I think about him gripping the rail and I’m wishing to be lost in my dream again.
I grab my phone to check for notifications. I need a distraction. Nothing interesting comes up except a text from Johannes saying we’re staying at the same hotel and do I want to get dinner this evening. Of course I do.
