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“No.”
Win shook his head, but Mathieu moved his finger from his nose to under Win’s chin, holding his gaze, staring into his soul when he said, “It won’t stop happening because you love me and I love you and this is where you should be. This is where you belong.”
Mathieu sounded so fucking sure of himself, Win wanted to smash his fist into his face. Instead, he pushed at Mathieu’s chest until the other man backed up, putting distance Win silently cursed between them. “Don’t.” He whirled around, grasping the doorknob, but Mathieu was immediately at his back, on him, breath like fire on Win’s nape.
“I will wait until I can’t wait anymore.” Mathieu uttered the warning in a low tone, calm and matter of fact. “Then I’ll make my move. Nothing can stop that, Win.” His lips kissed Win’s skin, light and fleeting. “Not even you.”
When his weight disappeared, Win got the hell out of there without looking back. He didn’t recall how he got back home. Everything that just transpired left him in a daze, but he sobered up real fucking quickly when he entered his bedroom and flicked on the light.
Jairo sat in the armchair in the corner of the room, legs crossed. Even though he wore pajamas, his hands were still covered in those black leather gloves.
“Jairo.” Shit. Shit. Shit. “What—”
Jairo met his gaze soberly. “We should talk.”
15
Jairo didn’t speakfor a while. Even after Win took a seat on the bed opposite him. They sat in a sort of strained silence that wasn’t usual for them. Win swept both hands up his arms then linked his fingers between his knees and waited for whenever Jairo decided to start talking.
He wasn’t afraid of Jairo, not for a moment, because he knew who Jairo was. And wasn’t. But he couldn’t afford to have Jairo find out about Win’s connection to Mathieu. It was a thin line he walked and Win felt that terrible, fragile rope swaying under his feet. This couldn’t go on forever, but it had to. For all their sakes, it had to.
Jairo blew out a breath weighed down with so many unspoken things, it set Win’s teeth on edge. “You’re seeing someone?” Jairo asked. His voice was a low rumble, words spoken with a Cuban accent that anyone else would consider sexy. But it did nothing for Win.
He licked his lips at the other man’s question. “Jairo—”
“You know I don’t care.” Jairo waved a leather-gloved hand through the air. “I just want you to be safe.” He looked tired when their eyes met, as if he had the weight of the world on his shoulders. Win didn’t want to be another thing pushing against Jairo’s shoulders.
“I am safe.”
“You trust them? This person you’re seeing, you trust them?” Jairo settled back in the chair, knees parted slightly. He truly was one of the most beautiful men Win had ever met. Outside, yes. But inside too, though Jairo didn’t chance showing that part of himself to anyone but Win. There’d been a time when Jairo had trusted the wrong person and ended up paying for it in ways Win still couldn’t comprehend.
“Don’t worry about me.” Win pulled his lips back into a smile. “I’m fine.”
Jairo studied him from his position across the room and Win made sure to keep his expression impassive. Between Jairo and Mathieu, it was a fucking masterclass in who could read him better. They kept him on his toes.
“You didn’t tell me about them,” Jairo said mildly. “Why?”
Win shrugged, clearing his throat. “Didn’t think you’d want to hear about it.”
Jairo’s gaze didn’t falter. In fact, it seemed to sharpen. Heat washed across Win’s nape, a kind of warning. He curled his fingers into his palm and stared back.
“I don’t need to know the details,” Jairo said. “But I need to know your safety, and therefore mine, isn’t compromised.”
“I would never compromise you!”
“Yet you’re creeping into our home at three in the morning like a teenager.”
Win flinched at the rebuke. Fuck. “You’re right. I’m sorry.”
Jairo leaned forward, elbows on his knees, eyeing Win up and down. “You’re hiding something from me.”
“What? No! I—”
“I suspected for some time, but tonight…” Jairo’s lips pursed, disappointment shimmering in his dark eyes briefly. “Tonight I’m sure of it.”
Goddamn it. The last thing Win needed was Jairo questioning shit. He’d been so good at covering his tracks and keeping his secrets hidden for so long. But recently, having to constantly deal with Mathieu and the feelings he aroused was wearing on Win’s disguise. Everything was blurring. He was losing focus. “I am seeing someone,” he said. “But I didn’t know I had to run it by you. You tell me you’re concerned about my safety, but you have yet to tell me what’s going on with the MC that’s so bad it requires me getting round-the-clock security.”
Jairo blinked at him slowly.
