Page 101 of Love On and Off Set

Even as he said the words, though, a cab pulled up in front of us, and two people stumbled out.

He caught the door and ducked his head inside. “Two guys to Coal Harbor.”

“Hop in.”

He held the door for me.

I slid in and over to the far side.

He joined me, closed the door, and grinned.

“Where to?” The cabbie pressed the meter.

“Oh.” He met my gaze. “Presumptuous of me, but you said you’ve got a studio. I have a two-bedroom.”

“That’s decadence.” I had no idea of his intentions, but I assumed if Hallstein had my photo that he likely would vouch that Brody wasn’t a serial killer. As the cabbie pulled out into the thin traffic, I nudged my companion. “Don’t forget to call Hallstein tomorrow. Or is that today? I don’t want cops showing up on my doorstep.”

He grinned just as we passed under a light. “Oh, trust me. Still…” He fished out his phone, typed something with impressive dexterity, and hit the final press with a flourish. “Hallstein now knows you’re coming home with me.” He was about to put the phone away when it buzzed. He grinned and turned it to face me.

—FFS. Have I taught you nothing? Myles says have fun. I say don’t get dead.—

I burst out laughing. “Hallstein says for fuck’s sake?”

Brody chuckled as he re-pocketed his phone. “Uh, not usually. I would say this is a first.”

“Noted.”

The cabbie pulled up in front of Brody’s condo and shut off the meter.

I was in the process of pulling out my card when Brody grabbed the reader. He entered a generous tip, tapped his card, and handed the reader back to the driver.

“You gents have a nice evening.” The cabbie made a show of checking the time. “Well, whatever’s left of it.”

“Oh, plenty of time before sunup.” Brody opened the door, snagged my hand, and gently pulled me out of the cab.

As he slammed the door, I caught the cabbie laughing. He pulled away and moments later, we were alone.

Well, except for the woman at the concierge desk who had an excellent view of the two of us.

He still held my hand. “You coming up?”

“To talk?” I eyed him.

“And…other things?”

“I like other things.”

“Then let’s go.”

Chapter Seven

Brody

Truthfully, I didn’t bring guys home often. Until last year, I’d had a roommate. A foreign student studying to get his PhD in molecular biology at the University of British Columbia. He’d completed his studies, and instead of trying to stay in Canada, he’d returned to one of the most impoverished regions in Punjab to teach. I had a hell of a lot of respect for him.

In the eight years he’d lived with me, I’d barely seen him, spoken to him, or interacted with him—at his behest. He just wanted to study. So he had. All day. Every day.

I’d put all that rent money toward my mortgage and was a hell of a lot closer to owning the condo outright. And it had almost doubled in value in the last eight years. Which was nuts. Vancouver real estate was insane.