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Weston grinned. “Yes, Daddy. Does that bother you if I call you Daddy?”

I smirked. “Is that a kink you have? Daddy and boy play?”

Those beautiful golden-brown eyes stared up at me in a thoughtful way. Finally, he grinned. “I wouldn’t mind exploring it. I don’t know much about it, but I’d like to learn with you.”

“That’s the best news I’ve heard all day... Well, second best. You agreeing to move in with me is the best news.”

That was no lie.

Chapter Nineteen

Weston

January

“Share the road, asshole!” Why were people such jerks?

A fucking cab cut me off in the bike lane as I pedaled toward Superior Courier’s storefront, then the dickhead made an illegal U-turn and nearly ran over a woman in the crosswalk. As he headed in the opposite direction on Fifth Avenue, I flipped the fucker off, which made him laugh.

Such was the world of a bike courier in Manhattan the week after New Year’s—dodging lost tourists, cabs, and delivery trucks on wet streets. It had snowed a couple of inches the day after Christmas and thankfully, most of it had melted off the next day, but traffic and pedestrians were a trial for a cyclist, even on a good day.

My coworkers and I were back at work after signing up for short shifts the week between Christmas and New Year’s to provide coverage for the few businesses working between the holidays. We were lucky that Andi decided to close the store from Wednesday, the thirtieth until Monday, the fourth, so everyone could celebrate the new year and nurse their hangovers without worrying about work.

Bridges and I stayed at his place over the bike shop for Christmas, putting up a small live fur tree in his living room with colored lights for atmosphere. On Christmas Eve, we biked to Rockefeller Plaza for ice skating and hot chocolate, which was fantastic.

We went to lunch on New Year’s Eve at a small restaurant near his apartment, and later that night we had a private celebration with Chinese carryout and champagne at midnight, after which we went to bed and worshipped each other’s bodies—though still no anal action, much to my disappointment.

New Year’s Day, we went for a ride around Manhattan, stopping at a pizza place to get a slice before going back to the shop where Bridges surprised me with a stand he’d made so I could ride my bike inside on the winter days that weren’t fit to ride outside. I dropped to my knees and blew him right there in the shop.

When I got back to Superior Courier Service’s building, I was fucking freezing. I wore layers to stay warm, along with the hand warmers Bridges bought me for Christmas, but I was still a popsicle.

“Yo! Aames! Messge and next assignment.” Andi was in the office and yelled through the glass, her angry demeanor shining through like the fires of hell.

I walked into the office and fell back against the door when she thrust the two papers at me. We’d never warmed up to each other, and I didn’t care why. From everything I’d witnessed, she hated all of us with equal measure.

I glanced at the phone message to see it was from Uncle Edmond. I pulled my phone from my pocket to see it had died at some point, and I hoped I hadn’t missed a call from Bridges. Alexis and he had gone to Taipei to meet with a manufacturing company that was going to mass produce the ultra-lite bikes they’d created, and I was dying to know what had happened at the meeting.

I crumbled the message note and tossed it into the trash, not surprised to see my next pickup was at Chaney & Associates, Uncle Edmond’s law firm. That figured.

I headed toward the kitchen to heat my handwarmer’s in the microwave before heading back to midtown where Edmond’s office was located. It wasn’t a coincidence he’d called my employer. It was funny that Edmond knew I wouldn’t return his call. Our family was definitely fucked up.

“Is anyone else around that I can trade with?”

As I walked by the office, Andi gave me a nasty snarl. I couldn’t help laughing at her. “There’s nobody here to trade with you, Aames. Besides, a woman named Jean asked for you personally.” The phone rang and Andi waved a hand at me to go, so I did.

I unlocked my bike and hopped on, heading to Midtown. It had started to rain, and I knew the temperature was dropping, so I didn’t speed through the streets as I usually did. God knew a wreck at this stage would fuck me up for the Pride ride, so I forced myself to be cautious.

Central Park was the best bet for getting around traffic during the rain, so that was the way I went, though it was slower because there were folks running in the rain. How fucking stupid were they?

I made the turn out of the park and into Midtown traffic, gliding across the street toward the Chaney Building. Just as I got to the far-right lane to go into the parking garage, the tale of my bike was clipped by a taxi, sending me over the handlebars where I crashed into the building.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

What the fuck happened? What’s that beeping sound? Is that a heart monitor?

Shit! The crash. Over the handlebars and into the building where I splattered like a ripe watermelon dropped from a bridge. Ambulance ride. Shot of happy juice. Fun times.

I didn’t think I passed out, but when I opened my eyes, there was a very hospital-looking curtain surrounding the bed. I glanced around to see there was someone sitting in the shadow of the window at the end of the bed. I stared for a moment before finally figuring out it was Jean, Edmond’s assistant.