Page 33 of Another Man’s Treasure

He chuckles. “That’s what twenty, almost thirty, years of friendship looks like when the friends become lovers. They’re so cute.” He sighs. “He’s a gargoyle, so when you know, you know.”

He freezes, tensing next to me as he bats his lashes and looks up.

I clear my throat to move past the awkward moment.

I don’t know where Saint is, so I can’t dig into the look on Oz’s face right now, but it’s just as well. The way I rolled on top of him, and he arched his ass into me in that tent? That was dangerously close to feeling real. It felt real to me at the time. I thought it was a dream, but instead I touched him without his permission. Part of me is pretty sure he was awake and into it, but my feelings about that are complicated.

My body’s feelings are less so. Watching Oz’s big fingers deftly pull the strings of his skates tight makes me wonder what those fingers would feel like caressing down my chest, down my abs and lower. It’s been a long time since my last boyfriend, almost two years. I’m out of practice but not out of desire. And I haven’t lived with another male in almost a decade. I’ve been on my own, and that’s been fine.

But this morning after Oz left, I found myself staring at his vision board again. I’d been so quick to dismiss it, but my mother always said the devil’s in the details. Oz’s details say a lot about him. Which is how I know that being publicly affectionate is likely something he enjoys.

I stand on the skates, careful to balance on the thick plastic covers over the blades. When I lift a hand for Oz, he takes it lightly, pulling himself upright. He’s steady though, which surprises me. Lifting his wings, he flares them slightly, I imagine to either make it easier or start flying if he’s about to fall.

“Wish I had wings,” I mutter. “Must be nice to just leap into the sky if you’re about to hit the ice.”

He laughs. “The last time I saw a pixie bull rider get bucked off, he just crashed right into the fence. Didn’t even bother to fly.” Glancing around, he plants both hands on his hips. “Is Willa gonna appear for this thing? She’s been incommunicado for days.”

Shrugging, I walk carefully across the rocky beach with Oz’s hand in mine, watching the path for anything obvious we might trip over.

He snickers. “Don’t worry, mate. If you fall, I’ll catch you and fly you upright.”

“Absolutely not,” I say with a huff as I step onto the ice. But no sooner have I said it, I slip and nearly end up face first on the frozen surface.

Oz bursts into hysterical laughter, stepping gracefully over with no problem. He bends to his knees, tail lashing behind him as he smirks at me. “Didn’t think I’d have to save you the literal first second, big guy.”

Grimacing, I stand and straighten my jacket. “I’m fine,” I manage.

He laughs again. “Mhm, okay.” He lets go of my hand. “Maybe you should keep your appendages to yourself until you get fully balanced.”

The way he says “appendages” makes me think of appendages other than the ones he’s referencing. Gods, I’ve got to stop thinking about sex, or the upcoming nights’ll be mighty awkward. It’s bad enough he’s sleeping in my bed, and the whole thing smells like him.

Testing my balance, I lift a foot and pull the skate cover off, shoving it in my pocket. Oz hops into the air, flapping quickly as he lifts his feet and removes his covers. They go in my pocket too. I grumble a little more about the inconvenience of not having wings. It takes me a full minute to get the other cover off, and Oz spends the whole time flying next to me, poking me with the spade-shaped tip of his tail as I grunt and growl and shove him away.

“You always this irritating?” I grab his arm and yank him to me. He’s still flapping in the air, his body brushing against mine. And he looks zero percent concerned about my trollhandling him. If anything, his sexy little smirk just gets smirkier, if that can be a word.

“Yep,” he pipes up, thumping the tip of my nose. “I aim to please, Wild or Wilder.”

Grumbling, I press forward across the ice. My first sliding steps are awkward, but I pick it up fast. If I’ve got anything, it’s balance, given my choice in careers. Oz follows me, but he does rely on his wings from time to time. Still, he seems to catch on a little faster than I do.

Half an hour later, we’re certainly not pros, but we’re gliding somewhat easily across the ice, doing our level best not to bump into anyone else. Bluebell and Hadrian dive past us, but she’s as gangly as a new calf, and he has to save her every two seconds. Eventually, they’re both in hysterics as he grabs her and darts up into the sky.

“See!” I laugh and point to their departing forms. “Wings are way easier!”

Oz laughs, but just as he does, he loses balance and falls against me. I’m ready and catch him, his body in my arms. It’s a good opportunity, so I take it, smiling down at him. Lifting a hand, I drag my fingers along his angular jaw, tucking dark purple hair back behind his pointed ear. Without thinking too much about it, I move my fingers to the spiky tip of his ear and stroke it.

Shit, I touched him again without asking.

He shudders against me, mouth dropping open as amethyst eyes fall to my lips. “That feels so good,” he murmurs, gaze flicking back up to mine.

His words encourage me. Surely he’d say if he was uncomfortable.

“It’s supposed to feel good,” I say with a low growl, loving how he sinks harder against me. Leaning forward, I bring my mouth to his ear, knowing others are staring at us, halted in the middle of the frozen pond. “Tell me the truth, Ozifer. Did you enjoy what happened in the tent?”

He jerks away from me and throws a dramatic hand over his heart. “Me? Absolutely not. I would never. How dare you accuse me of such a thing.” Fluttering his lashes, he pulls out of my grip and skates backward, away from me. “You can’t steal my table and my ass, Wild or Wilder.”

Grinning, I watch as his skate hits a divot in the pond. He jerks and falls on his ass too fast to fly and get away. With a big chuckle, I glide to him and bend down, hauling him upright.

I pinch his side as he settles against my bigger body. “That’s what you get for running from me.”