Page 2 of His to Take

Nope, he wasn't going to go through all that again. With a clenched jaw, Dylan shook his head and muttered, "No, sir. Won't happen again."

Dylan trudged back into the hot chaos of the kitchen, feeling like he was wading through quicksand. The air was thick withsteam and clattering dishes, each sound hammering at his nerves.

His sink awaited him: lukewarm water to match his lukewarm mood.

But he wasn't the only dishwasher in the place. Kai, Mr. Sunshine himself, gave Dylan a nudge. "Don't let Marcus ruin your vibe, man," Kai said, with that damn friendly smile. "He's just a windbag."

Kai always had this way of brightening up the place, even when the heat and noise threatened to suffocate them. How the hell did he do it? Dylan had no fucking clue.

Kai was another gay guy down on his luck in the big city, the same as Dylan. But Kai had one up on him — he had a sister, at least some family connection to keep him grounded.

Was that what made the difference in how hard life was? Just one person to love you?

Dylan tried to muster a grin, but inside, he was storming. Kai's easygoing attitude only made Dylan's own struggles feel heavier. It was like trying to swim with weights tied to his ankles.

He needed out.

The instant he was sure that Marcus was gone, he pulled out his phone again. Without a second thought, he typed a response.

Fuck yeah. Where should I meet you?

Chapter two

Dylan stepped into the lobby of the hotel, feeling entirely out of place. He gazed up at the chandelier — a fucking chandelier, for christ's sake. He tugged self-consciously at his faded band t-shirt and ripped jeans, acutely aware of how he looked in comparison to the well-dressed people gliding through the lobby.

The guy behind the front desk looked at him. "Can I help you, sir?"

Dylan started. Sir, huh? It was the first time anyone had said that to someone likehim. "Uh, nope," he mumbled, avoiding the attendant's gaze. "I'm good."

He stepped inside the polished wood and brass elevator. When he went to push the button, the floor that his hookup had told him to go to was right at the top of the list.

As the elevator ascended, Dylan's unease grew. What was he doing here? He didn't belong in a place like this. The guy he hadbeen messaging hadn't even told Dylan his name. All he'd said was to meet him in his room.

This clearly wasn't Dylan's scene. He was out of his league.

But… loneliness was a hell of a drug. It made you do stupid, dangerous things just for the illusion of companionship. Dylan knew he should turn around right now, before he got in too deep. But the elevator doors were already sliding open with a soft chime, revealing a lavish foyer.

Out of the frying pan, into the fancy-ass fire.With hesitant steps, Dylan knocked on the door.

It swung open. A man stood there, wearing nothing but a silk robe that gaped open to reveal a sculpted chest — and after how many times Dylan had checked the app since accepting the invitation, it was a familiar one. That was a good sign. No catfish here.

Dylan's hookup looked to be in his early twenties, with artfully styled chestnut hair and a broad smile. "Yo." He looked Dylan up and down, and grinned. "I'm Logan. Get your ass in here."

There was a hungry look in Logan's eyes. Dylan felt like a lamb being sized up by a wolf.Get it together,he told himself harshly.This is what you wanted, right? Time to nut up or shut up.

"Dylan. Nice digs," Dylan drawled, affecting an air of nonchalance as he sauntered into the suite.

Logan looked at the room like he was seeing it for the first time. "Huh? It's okay, I guess." Clearly, he was used to finer things. "Want a drink?"

Dylan perched awkwardly on a leather sofa that probably cost more than his annual rent. Logan handed him a tumbler of amber liquid and sat down dangerously close. The warmth of his thigh pressed against Dylan's as he sprawled out, and suddenly it was hard to think straight.

"So..." Dylan's mind raced as he sought something clever to say. Logan's proximity was wreaking havoc on his ability tostring two words together.Get it together, dude! Use your words!

"You're even cuter in person," Logan murmured, trailing a hand up Dylan's arm. The touch of his fingers was gentle, soothing.

Dylan's weird feeling of unease quieted a bit at that, drowned out by a thrill of anticipation. When was the last time someone had touched him with anything resembling tenderness?

Maybe this was going to be good, after all. Maybe his nerves were just misfiring, tired after a long day getting yelled at in a hot kitchen…

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