Premiere, page 33
Jordan’s unit faced the wooded hillside behind the complex rather than toward the city lights. Trey figured since the building kept a pretty high occupancy rate, Jordan had been lucky to even get a unit on the fourth floor. The demand for their exclusive complex exceeded the supply of available units.
As he neared unit 415, Trey’s feet lagged a little. Jordan had once claimed Trey had the most nimble feet on the football team¸ but that didn’t seem to be true any longer. Trey had the sense that he walked in quicksand, getting slower and sinking faster the closer he came to Jordan’s condo.
When he finally stood in front of the man’s door, panic set in. What if Jordan was married? What if he lived with someone? Oh, God.
Trey shuddered and shook off his panicked thoughts. Way too overly dramatic, Trey Beaumont, he told himself sternly. Pull yourself together! What does it matter if he’s married or involved with someone? He’s straight and he’s not interested in you. So get over it already!
Pushing his panic aside, he firmly pushed the bell. He could hear movement inside the condo. When the door swung open, Trey found himself speechless.
Jordan Smithson hadn’t changed. Much. Still tall, dark, and handsome. Still muscular. Still with an expanse of golden skin that instantly called to Trey’s libido. His former teammate stood before him, shirtless, wearing nothing but a pair of cut-off sweats. His chest heaved, and perspiration gleamed on his shoulders, chest, and face.
“Can I help—?” Jordan broke off, and a frown pulled his dark brows down. Then he broke into an ecstatic grin. “Trey!”
He reached out as if to give Trey one of those manly pat-on-the-back hugs that teammates exchanged before he seemed to recall his state of dishabille. He pulled back and made a face.
“I’m a little stinky right now. You caught me in the middle of a workout.”
Trey smiled self-consciously. “It’s okay. I only stopped by to bring this over and welcome you to the neighborhood.” He handed Jordan the wedding invitation. “It was in my mailbox along with my invitation to the wedding. Either the mailman screwed up or the person who sorts the mail got the mailbox numbers wrong.”
Jordan glanced at the invitation. “Huh. That’s weird. You living in the same building and on the same floor as me. How long has it been since we’ve seen each other? Five years?”
“Six.” Trey could have kicked himself. He shouldn’t have shown that he’d counted!
A chuckle escaped Jordan. “You were always the smartest guy on the team.” He grinned happily and stood back, pulling his door wide. “C’mon in. I can’t believe you’re here. Only Alex and Casey know I’ve moved back, and Casey only knows because Alex told him where to send the invite.”
Stepping into Jordan’s condo, Trey could see that the floor plan was somewhat different than his but just as spacious. The door shut with a thud, and then Jordan cleared some space on his sectional sofa by setting several half-empty boxes on the floor. Trey sat, and Jordan perched on the oak coffee table, elbows on knees, a smile brightening his handsome face. Trey’s stomach tightened.
“So you’ve only just moved in?” he asked and could have kicked himself for asking the obvious.
“Yeah. I got here a week ago, and the furniture showed up four days later. Settling in is taking more of my energy than I thought it would. It hasn’t left me much time to unpack or reconnect with old friends.” Jordan grimaced and wiped his face with a T-shirt that hung from the arm of the sofa. “Ugh. I need a shower.”
He stood, and Trey looked up at him, unable to take his eyes off the man’s gorgeous body. “I should probably …” He trailed off as disappointment flashed in Jordan’s eyes.
“Do you have somewhere to be? I’d love to talk and catch up. I can make dinner or order a pizza if you haven’t eaten.”
A hint of uncertainty colored Jordan’s words, and suddenly, Trey didn’t feel quite so self-conscious. He smiled and relief flooded Jordan’s expression.
“No, I’ve nowhere I need to be, and I haven’t eaten yet.” Trey’s smile widened. “I’d love to have dinner with you.”
“Great!” Jordan jumped to his feet. “Let me grab a quick shower, and then we can order a pizza.”
“Tell you what, I’ll order us some dinner while you’re showering.” Trey plucked at the front of his T-shirt. “The coffeehouse a block down will deliver here, and their café has great food.”
“Awesome. I’m not a picky eater. Order me whatever you think is their best dish.”
Flashing another grin, Jordan disappeared down the hall. Trey pulled his cell phone out of his pocket and called to order a couple of subs and soup from The Leaky Bucket. Amy, the waitress who took his to-go order, knew him pretty well and commented on the fact that he ordered two of everything.
“Someone’s got company!” she crowed in his ear. “Is it a date? Is he cute?”
“No, I don’t have company nor am I on a date. I’m at a friend’s house. He just happens to live in the same building as me,” Trey corrected her. “He just moved in, so tell Mikey to make sure he brings the food to 415 not 405.”
Trey hung up and scrolled through his email. He might not be on duty, but in his head, he was always working. He’d never been good at leaving his work at the office, another reason he didn’t have a boyfriend. Well, his gun always seemed to turn them off, too. He steered clear of the guys who got excited over his gun and badge. Just a little too kinky for him.
“Hey!”
Jordan’s voice calling out to him startled him into reaching for his weapon, but, of course, it wasn’t there. He’d locked it in his gun safe when he got home. He turned sheepish eyes on the other man. Jordan stood in the doorway wearing nothing but a towel. Trey swallowed hard, mesmerized by the vision of his former crush half-naked.
“Sorry. Didn’t mean to startle you,” Jordan apologized with a smile.
“It’s okay. Occupational hazard, I’m afraid. I’m always a little jumpy.” Trey smiled back at his friend, trying to relax but finding it difficult when Jordan wore only a skimpy towel that left very little to Trey’s imagination.
“Occupational? What do you do?” One dark brow winged up curiously.
Trey’s throat threatened to close up on him before he let out any words that might chase Jordan away. He swallowed hard for a second time. “I’m an FBI agent.”
Jordan’s eyes widened incredulously. “You’re kidding, right?”
Shaking his head, Trey said, “Afraid not. They recruited me while I was in grad school.”
“Wow. Casey told Alex you’d come back to Seattle not long ago, that you’d been gone almost two years. I was going to ask him how to contact you once I got settled in.”
The odd expression on Jordan’s face unnerved Trey, but he tried to keep his expression calm and not show his emotions. “I left for twenty weeks of training at Quantico and then my first posting, which lasted about eighteen months.”
Hitching the towel tighter with one hand, Jordan tipped his head to one side, his face filled with curiosity. “Where was that?”
“Los Angeles.”
The curiosity on Jordan’s face turned to outright astonishment. “Holy shit! You were in California and I didn’t know? Why didn’t you tell Casey to get my number? I would have come down to meet you! We could have hung out or something.”
Uneasiness settled in Trey’s gut. He and Jordan hadn’t been that close in college. They had friends and teammates in common, but other than the football team or dorm events, they’d never hung out together. It seemed odd that Jordan would be surprised that he hadn’t sought him out while he’d been in Los Angeles.
“Where’d you move to, anyway? All I knew was that you went back to California because you had a job lined up there. It’s a big state. I had no idea where you might be,” Trey stalled, not wanting to answer Jordan’s question.
A frown replaced the surprise on Jordan’s face. “Hang on a sec. Let me throw some clothes on.”
Jordan disappeared down the hallway, and Trey let out a sigh. He liked his life neat and predictable. His job could be hugely chaotic on occasion, so he really liked his personal life to be on an even keel. Seeing Jordan again had shattered his peace, and he didn’t know what he’d have to do to regain it.
Why the fuck had the mailman put Jordan’s mail in the wrong box? Sure, he’d have run into Jordan sooner or later since they now lived in the same building on the same floor and would be going to the same wedding. But either of those situations would have been in public, around other people, most likely. This reunion, if you could call it that, had become something more than bumping into an old teammate on the street. And that scared the crap out of Trey.
Jordan returned wearing jeans that fit like a second skin and a threadbare University of Washington T-shirt. Trey’s mouth went drier than it had when Jordan appeared in the towel. Now, the older man looked almost exactly like he had when they were in college, when Trey’s crush on him had been at its height. Jordan plopped down next to Trey on the couch, a slight frown marring his handsome face.
“Were you not at the big dorm party my senior year? The one at the end of the year?” he asked, his voice rough and almost demanding.
Trey tried to remember if he had been. All he really remembered about the end of Jordan’s senior year was the depression that enveloped him at the thought of not seeing him anymore. “Maybe. I’m not sure,” he replied honestly.
A huge sigh escaped Jordan. “So you never heard me tell everyone I’d been accepted to the Police Academy in San Francisco?”
Blinking in utter confusion, Trey mumbled, “Police Academy? San Francisco?”
Jordan turned bright green eyes on him. “My whole life, I dreamed of being a cop. I went to college and played football because my parents asked me to. They told me to take the football scholarship and get an education. Afterward, if I wanted to be a cop, then I could go to the Academy with their blessing. So that’s what I did. I turned down the recruiters who were interested in drafting me and applied to SFPD.”
The fact that Jordan had ended up in law enforcement just as he had didn’t shock Trey nearly as much as where Jordan had been living for the past few years.
“Why San Francisco? Your parents don’t live there, do they?”
Jordan shook his head, a lock of damp chocolate-colored hair falling onto his forehead. “No. They live in Sacramento.” He paused, took a deep breath that expanded his chest, and caught Trey’s gaze, holding it intently. “Trey, I’m gay.”
CHAPTER THREE
EVERYTHING TREY HAD BELIEVED for nearly ten years shattered. His chest hurt and his ears rang. It took him a moment to figure out he was holding his breath. Letting it out in a whoosh of air, he suddenly smiled. Damn. Life was stranger than he’d thought.
“Trey?” Jordan’s voice held a note of caution, and the skin between his brows furrowed.
A weight seemed to lift from Trey’s heart, leaving him feeling more alive than ever before. His smile widened. “Jordan, I’m gay, too. I thought you knew.”
The other man’s eyes rounded a little in surprise, and he shook his head. “I thought … I hoped … I mean, I wondered if you were but I …” He broke off on a self-conscious little laugh. “What I mean is that I always hoped you were.”
“You did? Why?”
A slight flush stained Jordan’s cheekbones. “Because I had a crush on you.”
The beat of Trey’s heart took on a sledgehammer-hard thumping. “Holy fuck. I had a crush on you, too.” The words tumbled from his mouth of their own volition.
Silence reigned as they stared at each other in shock. Trey had the sense that the expression on Jordan’s face matched his own. Stunned. Pleased. And seriously horny. Before they could say or do anything, the doorbell rang.
Vaguely, Trey recalled that he’d ordered food. With a sigh, he got up and answered Jordan’s door. The freckle-faced young man on the other side grinned at him and held up two large bags.
“Hey, Mikey,” Trey greeted the delivery guy. “Thanks for bringing this over.”
“No problem, Trey. Did your friend just move in?” Mikey handed over the bags and then shoved his hands into his pockets, his hazel eyes bright with curiosity. “Is he in the FBI, too?”
Jordan appeared at Trey’s shoulder and took one of the bags. “No, I’m a cop. Jordan Smithson.” He held out his hand, and Mikey shook it.
“Mikey here is the son of The Leaky Bucket’s owner, Kevin O’Reilly, who used to be Seattle PD,” Trey told Jordan. “They only deliver to a handful of privileged people in the neighborhood. Since you’re a cop, that makes you privileged.”
Jordan grinned at the young man. “I’m honored, Mikey. It’s good to meet you.”
“Same here, Jordan. If you ever need something to eat, just give us a call. My sister, Amy, will take your order, and I’ll bring it over. You can run a tab like Trey.”
“I’m sure I’ll take you up on your generous offer. It’s been a long time since I lived here, and I’m still finding my way around. So much has changed.”
When Mikey left, Trey and Jordan sat at the small dining table and pulled out the two subs and two cartons of soup. While they ate, they talked about mutual friends from college, where they were, and what they’d done with their lives thus far. Both of them ignored the elephant in the room throughout the meal, although Trey had the distinct sense that not talking about their confessions wouldn’t last. Every now and again, he’d catch Jordan’s gaze on him and recognized the confident, predatory gleam in the deep green depths. No doubt about it. In the quietest, most understated manner imaginable, without a single word that gave it away, Jordan was flirting with him.
It had been a long time since Trey had been cruised, and never had it happened in such a low-key manner. Usually, men waltzed up to him and asked to suck his dick. Or asked him to suck theirs. No-nonsense, right to the point. They didn’t usually go the scenic route and exchange long looks with him, nudge his knee with theirs, rub their foot alongside his, let their fingers brush his as they reached for the pepper …
Trey could hardly believe it, but it seemed that Jordan’s crush, like his, had never died. Unleashed from their shared past, acknowledged aloud for the first time, the force of their attraction to each other sizzled hot as it finally saw the light of day. Denying he had feelings for the man across the table from him wasn’t possible. Naturally reticent, Trey discovered that knowing Jordan felt as he did freed his inhibitions. And so, for the first time ever, Trey found himself flirting.
“You’re really cute when you let go of that conservative persona you hide behind.”
Jordan stood and gathered the trash from their dinner, taking it into the kitchen to toss in the garbage. He glanced over his shoulder at Trey and winked. The crotch of Trey’s jeans tightened.
“I’m not conservative,” Trey protested. “And I don’t hide behind anything. What you see is what you get.”
A rude noise escaped Jordan as he returned to the table and stood, hands on hips, gazing down at Trey.
“That’s only partially true. You really do hide the best parts of your personality behind a cool, conservative, conventional storefront. You always have. When we were playing football, the other team never knew what you would do.”
“I’m not conservative or conventional,” Trey huffed at Jordan’s words. “I’m a gay man. How the hell could I be conventional?”
A long, low laugh escaped the older man. He held his hand out, and Trey hesitated before he put his own in the strong palm. Jordan tugged and Trey stood. Walking backwards, Jordan pulled Trey toward the couch. He fell backward onto it and pulled Trey down on top of him.
Gasping in shock, Trey tried to lever himself off Jordan, but two strong hands gripped his buttocks, holding him tightly to Jordan’s body. He squirmed a little but stilled as the hands began to caress him through the worn denim of his jeans.
“You are. You’re the most conventional man I’ve ever met,” Jordan whispered. “I bet you’re running a thousand scenarios inside your head right now, trying to come up with the one that feels right, the conventional, conservative response to me holding you like this when I haven’t seen you in five years.”
“Six,” muttered Trey, unable to stop himself.
Jordan’s sexy laugh held a note of genuine humor. “After the first couple of years crushing on you, I stopped counting. You want to know why?”
The word no balanced on the tip of his tongue for a moment before he swallowed it. “Why?”
The smile that curved Jordan’s lips held a breathtaking beauty that made Trey’s heart stumble and his breath stutter. Sliding one hand up Trey’s spine, beneath his T-shirt, Jordan pressed him down.
Lips grazing the edge of Trey’s ear, Jordan whispered, “Because I knew counting wouldn’t matter. I was always going to feel that way about you.”
Time stood still as Jordan’s words sank in and filled Trey with a heat that seared him from the inside out. He trembled in Jordan’s arms as every emotion he’d ever had for the man beneath him grew a thousandfold. Like a flower seeking the sun, his body arched against Jordan’s, hips rubbing first seductively, then more urgently as the hard ridge of his denim-covered erection found a matching swelling in Jordan’s jeans.
“Fly in the face of convention, Trey.”
Jordan’s low growl filled Trey’s ears, causing him to shiver and vibrate like a tuning fork. The scent of the other man filled his nostrils, and the rough silk of his skin heated Trey’s palms where they rested against Jordan’s ribs.
“I know we haven’t seen each other in years, but in my heart, I’ve always wanted you, always had very deep feelings for you. You were the one dream I could never give up. Being a cop was a dream I could’ve given up. I could’ve done something else and probably been content, but I couldn’t give you up. It’s why I moved back here.”
Stunned once more by the man beneath him, Trey raised his head, and their gazes met. Jordan’s expression held a gravity Trey couldn’t ignore.
