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“Bingo.” Adrián sighed long and loud and utterly disgusted with himself. “This is so messed up, man. Why am I only knowing this now? Why you and not anyone else?”
“I don’t know, Adrián. Would figuring that out really make you feel better?”
“Uh, yes. I’m not used to this. This is not—”
Thunder cracked so loudly outside that I literally jumped up from the bed with my heart in my throat. Adrián snickered, and I flipped him off.
“Fuck yo—”
This time when the sky lit up and thunder rolled out from the ocean to muffle every other sound, it was accompanied by a low hum in the building. The room was already dark, but the LED lights on the various devices that had been plugged into the wall blinked out. White noise I hadn’t even noticed in the background abruptly ended, and there was nothing but the storm and voices ringing out from outside.
I looked out the window and winced. The sky was apocalyptic, and all the street lights were out. With Adrián’s windows facing the East River, I could also see, across the water, that some of the lights in Manhattan had gone out as well.
“Well,” I said. “Looks like shit just got serious.”
“What happened?” Adrián asked from the bed. “Lights out on the block?”
“Maybe in the whole damn city.”
“For real?”
Adrián slid off the side of the bed and joined me by the window. He pressed his fingers against the glass, smudging his fingerprints against it like a child, and let his eyes go wide with surprise.
“I didn’t think the lights could ever go out in this city, man. I know they said it happened a few years back, but I never seen it with my own eyes. I lived in Jersey at the time.”
“Freaky, yeah?”
Adrián nodded slowly. I watched him scan the streets below his building, a furrow in his brow.
“What’s up?”
“Nothing, it’s just that—fuck.”
“What?” I followed the trajectory of his scowl but saw nothing. “What are you seeing that I’m not seeing, boo?”
Adrián jutted his finger in the direction of the pier. “Brayden. Like clockwork, every day, he goes down to the pier and meets some lady.”
My eyes flew to the pier in question, and, sure enough, I spotted Brayden’s slim figure walking towards the railing on the pier. A woman waited there, but she was so heavily wrapped against the wind and rain that it was impossible to make out her features.
“Who is that?”
“I dunno. I figured it wasn’t none of my business to ask, since I put a moratorium on personal questions, you know? But she can’t be too savvy if she’s dragging this kid out on the pier in a hurricane.”
“Tropical depression,” I muttered. “Why are they just kicking it down there? The wind is nuts.”
“I don’t know, but he needs to take his ass home. I swear to my mother, some of these kids have no kinda common sense.” Adrián exhaled roughly. “Fuck. I’m gonna go down there.”
It was the first thing that had gone through my mind as soon as I’d realized they were planning to stand there, unmoving, even as the weather continued to deteriorate. But Adrián saying it first was a surprise.
He started for the door, worry visible in his strained expression and rigid back. I grabbed his shirt before he was out of reach, and pulled him into a kiss. A surprised huff escaped him, but I licked into his mouth with two hungry swipes of my tongue before shoving him to the door again.
“Let’s go, but we’re finishing this conversation, Bravo. And then I want to spend the rest of this storm sitting on your cock.”
Adrián’s nostrils flared, his mouth still damp and open.
“Sounds good to me, gorgeous.”
Chapter Twelve
Adrián
The air was thick with rain, a smell that hit me with a wave of nostalgia. It took me back to childhood, spending days with my dad out on his boat, and pretending I knew how to fish while my mom sunbathed and issued orders from her elegant sprawl. Things had been a lot simpler before I’d been old enough for anyone to expect anything from me. As soon as puberty hit, I’d spent every day chasing those Ws.
They hadn’t forced me into it, but I knew what they’d wanted for me, and damned if I didn’t put my all into trying to live up to those expectations. Athletic—check, even if I’d fallen in love with the wrong sport. Celebrated college athlete? Check. Professional athlete—yup. Most of all, I’d kept my nose relatively clean with no dirt to bring embarrassment to my family’s name. It’d all gone according to plan.
Until now.
Simeon’s hair slicked down the sides of his face as the rain rushed down in steady sheets. Despite that green rain smell usually accompanying balmier weather, the rain was icy cold. I shivered, wishing I’d worn a jacket, and followed Simeon towards the pier. He didn’t complain about jogging through the rain alongside me, but his intensity betrayed his concern. We had a couple of hours before the eye was set to slam into us and conditions were already getting worse minute by minute.
