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He’s not wrong. On the floor are boxes and boxes of books, mostly paperbacks and hardcovers in neat stacks. But there are textbooks, too. Dozens of them.
“Emil is a psych major,” I explain.
Kipp knows Emil—who goes by Felix on set—just as he knows all of my coworkers. But considering Emil tends to keep to himself and Kipp generally joins us to party, I’m guessing the topic might not have come up.
“So the smarty-pants glasses aren’t only for show,” Kipp jokes.
“No, I’m incredibly farsighted and have astigmatism,” Emil says, appearing from down the hall. “Can’t see a thing without them.” He gives us a shy smile as he comes to a stop a few feet away. “Thanks for coming. I appreciate the help.”
“Of course,” I tell him. “Are the other guys on the way?”
Emil nods, glasses slipping down his nose. “Yeah, they should be here any—”
“Bro-friend!” Kipp yells in excitement, dragging Niko in for a hug as the curly-haired man clears the door. Niko chuckles, slapping Kipp’s back. Kipp holds out his fist to Dixon next. Dixon, rather reluctantly, taps their knuckles together.
“Oh, me, too!” Alex cries, launching himself onto Dixon’s back.
“For fuck’s sake, where did you come from?” Dixon grumbles, even as he grabs on to Alex’s legs, making sure the smaller man doesn’t fall.
Alex holds his fist Kipp’s way. “Bring it in, Kipper.”
With a massive grin, Kipp pounds Alex’s fist. They make dual explosion sounds afterwards.
And that about sums up the next ten minutes. Alex’s boyfriends come in the door behind him, more of our coworkers arrive, and pretty soon, we’re all hauling boxes and furniture down the stairs. At least there’s only one flight.
“This is fun,” Kipp says, wiping his forehead as we stand beside the moving truck. I shake my head as he tugs up his t-shirt, clearing nonexistent sweat from his brow. He gives me a swift grin, well aware of what he’s doing.
“We’ve been at it for five minutes,” I point out. “You might be singing a different tune later tonight when you’re too sore to climb into bed.”
“You could draw me a bath,” he suggests, batting his eyelashes. “Maybe rub my sore muscles a bit?”
I bite my tongue. He’s definitely been Googling. “You’re going to test me, aren’t you?”
Not that I thought for one second Kipp would stop being his flirty, confident self just because he agreed I could boss him around in bed.
Kipp feigns shock. “Me? No. I’ll be good.” He walks a step past me before whispering, “Daddy.”
The slap to his ass should not have been a surprise, but Kipp yelps and runs off, laughing as he disappears inside the building.
Fuck, this man is going to test me. I have no doubt I’ll enjoy every minute of it.
When I get back up to Emil’s apartment, Dixon and Niko are maneuvering a couch through the room. I step out of the way, noticing Kipp off near what looks to be a small terrarium.
“Who’s this?” Kipp asks Emil.
“Oh,” Emil huffs, stepping closer. “That’s my hermit crab.”
“Emil,” Alex says sternly from across the room. He has his hands on his hips. “We talked about this.”
“Alex,” Emil groans.
Alex raises an eyebrow.
Emil sighs, turning back to Kipp. “That’s Sir Arthurpod, His Royal Cuteness, Burrower of Sand and Creator of Dreams.”
Alex looks mightily pleased, whereas Emil seems ready to disappear into the floorboards.
Kipp beams, bending down and waving at the hermit crab. “Hi, Sir Arthur.” Noticing me nearby, he points at the tank. “Teddy! A hermit crab. Can we get one? Please? They can have playdates.”
