Page 39 of The Star in Room 7

“I can’t⁠—”

I turn to him and put my finger over his lips, gently silencing him. “Let me see what I can do. I’m your Daddy. It’s my job to take care of you.”

He widens his eyes and sucks in a breath.

“Assuming that’s still what you want?” I lower my finger.

“Yes. Yes, it is.” He lowers his lashes. “I want to kiss you again, too. I’m not fresh out of a scene anymore, Daddy.” He raises his eyes, meeting mine. “I know what I want. I know what I need.”

I smile, lean across the console, rest my hand on the back of his neck, and draw him the rest of the way to me, to kiss him. It’s a soft, sweet kiss at first. Then he clutches my arm, and the kiss instantly becomes more desperate and needy, both of us showing how much we want each other.

I end the kiss reluctantly, close my eyes, and stroke his nape gently, as I lean my forehead against his. “We’re supposed to be going for a run.”

“And then back to yours.”

“To work out.”

“Yes.”

“That’s still the plan, sweet boy?”

“Yes, Daddy.”

“Then we’d best get going.” I press a short, soft kiss to his lips, and then put the car into drive.

11

ZACH

Nate takes me for a run on a new trail. It’s so quiet, I’m convinced he’s paid people to stay off it. I love these morning runs. It’s so much fun being with someone else. We talk, Nate keeping the conversation firmly frivolous. When we stop to drink water, I wonder what it would be like to steal a kiss. My body instantly tenses, reminding me that I’m not out of the closet here. I don’t want my career to be defined by my sexuality. Then my heart chips in, wondering if it even matters anymore. Have I already decided to end my career before it’s really begun?

Nate touches my shoulder. “Are you all right?”

“Yes. Just thinking.” I screw the bottle cap back on. “Let’s race.” And then I’m off, my feet pounding across the uneven ground, forcing Nate to catch up to me.

Which he does.

Afterwards, we head to his place. I’m floored when we arrive at a guarded, gated community off Avenue of the Stars. The moment we drive through the gates, it’s like being in another world, a million miles from the hustle and bustle of LA. The drive is lined with trees. There are tennis courts and a huge circular fountain in front of two high-rise apartment blocks.

Nate doesn’t park the car. He stops outside one of the apartment blocks, gets out, and tosses his keys to a concierge before coming around to open my door. My jaw hangs open as a doorman opens the door for us, and another concierge welcomes Nate—by name—and calls the lift for us. The lobby is sleek, modern, and full of warm-toned marble and lush green plants. The lift whisks us up several stories, pinging as the doors swoosh open on Nate’s floor.

“It’s very white,” Nate warns me as he lets us inside his apartment. “I decided to keep the walls neutral so that the artwork could speak for itself.”

“Artwork?”

“Yes. Most of the pieces were gifts from my clients. Come on, I’ll give you a quick tour.”

The apartment is at least three times the size of mine, with a separate galley kitchen and a combined dining and living room. He’s used rugs to separate the two areas, and all his furniture is modern, with lots of dark wood and freestanding lamps. Artwork hangs on the walls, in modern and postmodern styles, and he also has a couple of sculptures. A window stretches across the whole width of the room, overlooking a massive golf course.

“You have a pool?” I ask, staring down the dizzying drop to the ground floor.

“It’s a shared pool, but yes. There’s a gym, too, which is much better kitted out than my home one, but much less convenient. I can hardly take calls and work out in a shared space.”

“You like multitasking, then?”

He chuckles. “Sometimes.”

I drop the bag I brought with me beside the huge, curving sofa. It could fit at least four people on it and still have space to spare. Or two people lying down, who don’t mind being snuggly. The bag contains a spare set of clothes. I have no idea how long I’ll be staying, but I’m hedging my bets and hoping he doesn’t drive me back to Halo House as soon as we’re done working out. Wishful thinking? Maybe.