Breakfall (29 page)

“Wanna fight?” Adrian asked. He was out only once, defeated by Nell.

“Okay.”

Asbjorn didn’t remember much of the fight he lost. Mostly, he remembered the shot of Aquavit burning its path down his throat and the sweet, sensuous lips of Adrian Rios under the mistletoe, his electrifying tongue, and his half-closed eyes, filled with warmth and caring.

He also remembered the look of stunned hurt on Sean’s face and the way he turned his back afterward.

We had a deal.

Only a full partnership will do.

“O
KAY
,
HE
was concerned for me. I get that part.” Sean scowled in anger as he tried to mask the pain in his eyes.

“Do you get the ‘deal’ part?” Ken asked, his words slow and careful, as though he were addressing a very young child.

“Yes—but I just made a mistake. Just one stupid mistake. So I didn’t call. Do you realize how overprotective he is?”

“Your mistake almost blew the whole investigation, Sean.” Ken drank more fine tequila straight out of the bottle. He gestured at Sean, who nodded and held his plastic cup out. The stuff was good, and not only to dull the ache in his chest. “He thought you’d tell him everything, that you’d be a team. Granted, it takes time to coordinate with someone to work in tandem like that. Me and David Burrows took some time before we’d trust one another in bar fights and such.”

Sean filed away the information about Burrows-sensei and focused back on the Asbjorn problem. “So you’re saying Asbjorn was unrealistic in his expectations?” Sean’s hopes rose.

“Only in part. Not telling your partner where you’re spending the night is idiotic and rude. I’d never spend the night elsewhere and not let Margaret know, even before we were married. Heather always reports her change of position, from one friend’s house to another. It’s common courtesy—and we don’t even have a psycho stalking us.” Ken sipped some more. “That’s the bad news, kid—you’re in the wrong. But there’s good news too.” He looked at Sean, staring him down with his piercing amber gaze. “He’s hurting. He misses you. His sword work ain’t worth shit. His focus’s totally shot. He’s still keeping his eye on you, trying to keep you safe. My feeling is, if you fess up on being wrong, and if the two of you talk it over, there is a chance you could give things a fresh start.”

“You think, Kenny?” Sean’s glued his drunk gaze to the older man’s face like he was his last hope. He hiccupped. When he realized he called the older man by a nickname, he felt heat rise in his face.

“Yeah. But that’s your only chance. Be straight up with him. That’s what
partners
do.”

“I
F
YOU
throw up inside my car, I’ll have your ass, Asbjorn. I’ve never seen you this wasted before, and that’s saying something.”

Asbjorn heard Adrian’s voice as though through a thick fog.

“Just avoid the potholes,” Don grumbled.

“Take him in?” Adrian asked, sliding his eyes to Don.

“Yeah. He’s due for some R and R.”

Asbjorn’s eyes opened, fighting the pressure of hangover that kept trying to push his eyes closed. He vaguely remembered throwing up, and he remembered the assistance of friendly hands. Right then, though, the elves inside his skull kept tap-dancing in their pointy shoes while playing bagpipes at top volume, their every step provoking a jolt of stunning pain. He closed his eyes again, exhaling, clearing the pain away. It occurred to him that the ceiling of his bedroom wasn’t painted dark blue, nor was his bed this large and soft. His sheets weren’t an expensive white jacquard trimmed with blue piping, either. He stirred, feeling the warmth of a body on both his left and right side. His eyes remained closed as he felt the bodies shift infinitesimally. His keen ears caught the sound of clicking on small keyboards. On both sides.

Curious, he cracked his eyelids just the tiniest bit. Adrian was to his left, Don was on his right. They moved carefully, as though not to wake him up. Asbjorn groaned and shifted, feigning sleep, as he moved closer to Don. The clicking stopped, only to resume once he was settled down again. He cracked his eyes open and caught a snippet of Don’s cell phone screen.

Will he wanna?

Dunno.

I want him. U OK w that?

LOL he’s yum.

Will he?

Up to him.

“What are you two negotiating?” Asbjorn growled, suddenly feeling a bit claustrophobic, sandwiched between the two men. The fact that he was still clad in his T-shirt and briefs was a thin comfort.

Two phones beeped off. Don’s expression became guarded, only a tug of a smile playing with his lips. Adrian didn’t fare much better.

“Spill it, guys. Will who wanna what?”

“Maybe I should go put on coffee and we should shower first. Adrian will explain.” Don slapped his phone on the night table and bounded out of bed, his boxer shorts riding low on his slim hips.

Asbjorn followed him with his eyes.

“Like what you see?”

Asbjorn looked at Adrian as Adrian’s strong, fine-boned hand skimmed Asbjorn’s belly and he draped his arm comfortably across his torso. Adrian’s touch sent tingles through is body. Asbjorn met his eyes. They were wide open, searching, questioning.

“If you let us, Asbjorn, Don, and I would like to make you feel a lot better.”

“W… what? Me? With you two?”

Adrian nodded, and a hint of a smile blossomed as he raised himself on his elbow over Asbjorn’s head. He dipped down, nearing Asbjorn’s lips with excruciating slowness. “Say ‘no’ if you don’t want to.”

Asbjorn felt confused. Very confused. A guilty pang in the back of his mind asserted itself. “What about Sean?”

Adrian stopped his descent. “That’s between you and Sean. I hope you two can still make it work, but while you’re apart, you’re a free agent.” Adrian’s eyebrows drew together in a thoughtful frown. “Aren’t you?”

“I dumped him.” Asbjorn sighed, none too happy with the fact. “So, yes, technically, I have nothing to feel guilty about.” He paused. “Why do you guys want to?”

“Sometimes, we like to play with others.” Adrian smiled. “In fact, if you and Sean ever do want to join us, I think the situation would have serious potential.”

An image of Sean and Adrian together flashed through Asbjorn’s mind. He felt a flare of jealous anger, followed by a jolt of excitement below his waist. His hangover was forgotten as confusion reigned. He tried to think—he
was
a free agent. If he was to do what he wanted, he had no business feeling jealous over a purely theoretical image of Sean with somebody else. He forced himself to breathe again.

“Let me slip into the bathroom and freshen up,” he said. “Is there a spare toothbrush?”

“There is a guest basket under the sink,” Adrian responded with a languid smile. He looked Asbjorn up and down as he walked across the room. His attention made Asbjorn self-conscious, but not necessarily in a bad way. He pissed, brushed his teeth and took a quick shower, pulled his T-shirt and boxers on again, and emerged.

Don and Adrian stopped their conversation, and Don stood up and nodded at him. “Coffee’s made, you two. My turn to shower, so don’t start without me!” Don walked past the king-size bed on his way to the bathroom.

Asbjorn stood there, feeling awkward, until Adrian patted the middle of the bed. “Coming back in?”

Asbjorn slipped back under the covers. He and Sean were no longer together. There was nothing to feel guilty about. But if that was so, why did he keep thinking of Sean all the time?

With an irritated huff, he propped himself up on his elbow, reached for Adrian’s neck, and drew him into a kiss. The taste of Adrian’s coffee mingled with his toothpaste, and as their tongues touched, Asbjorn felt his body respond.

“Mmm….” It was Adrian who broke the kiss. He ran his hand up Asbjorn’s chest, tracing long fingers up his throat and along the strong, chiseled jaw. “You’re so exquisitely beautiful, Asbjorn.” He dipped his lips to Asbjorn’s vulnerable throat, tasting his skin. “Don saw us kiss under the mistletoe and decided that you and I’d look good together. Except, us being partners, we always share. Are you okay with that?”

Asbjorn took in the sultry look in Adrian’s eyes, thinking Adrian was the exquisitely beautiful one. He emanated heat and want and pure enjoyment of good things to come. Adrian looked like someone who would really enjoy it—there was no hesitation, no tepid shyness—and Asbjorn felt himself grow even harder.

“Yeah. Yeah, I’m okay with both of you.”

T
HE
WINTRY
sun moved higher in the sky by the time they were done. Showered and dressed, they reclined on a newly made bed in a tangle of limbs.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” Don’s worried tones sank into Asbjorn’s awareness like feet into sand.

“Shhh….” Adrian’s hand in his hair felt soothing, moving like the waves of the ocean.

“Yeah. Good. Different, though.” He could not get rid of the feeling of vague guilt and discomfort, wondering where Sean was that Sunday, and what he was doing. He was testifying in three days. The countdown was running in the back of Asbjorn’s mind, whether he liked it or not.

Sunshine.

“You sure don’t look too happy now that it’s over, though,” Don said, not meeting his eyes.

Asbjorn paused for a while before he said anything. “I’m sorry to spoil the mood, guys—just, all of a sudden, I feel this overwhelming feeling of… I dunno.”

“What feeling, Bjorn?” Adrian’s arm was draped over his shoulders in a protective hug.

“Sadness.”

Adrian sat up and looked at him, the understanding in his eyes making him suddenly much older than his years. “But now you know.”

T
HE
MID
-D
ECEMBER
wind pressed hard against Sean, spears of frozen air stabbing the chinks in the armor of his scarf and down winter jacket. The weatherman predicted a nor’easter, with the first flakes of snow arriving tomorrow. Sean could smell the snow in the air, carried off the ocean in gusts. He didn’t mind the predicted weekend snowfall, but he was suddenly glad for his flannel-lined jeans and sensible, insulated winter boots. With his black watch cap pulled down to his eyebrows and his gloved hands tucked in his armpits, he drew his knees to his chest, hiding in the lee of the doorway.

He hadn’t found Asbjorn anywhere on campus, and Asbjorn’s voice mail box was full. It was Sunday night, though, and Asbjorn was bound to come home soon, and when he did, Sean was determined to talk to him. He had made his way to Asbjorn’s apartment in a roundabout way, cutting through other buildings and crisscrossing the campus to foil the ever-present pursuit of Joe Green, a.k.a. Frank Pettel, villain extraordinaire. He settled here, waiting for Asbjorn, and he wouldn’t spoil his mood by answering the frequent phone calls of his self-appointed stalker. He didn’t mind the wait—not if the time invested gave him, and Asbjorn, an opportunity to apologize.

It was after dinner already, and darkness had long set in. Sean pressed himself farther into the shadows of the doorway, seeking protection from both the biting wind and from predatory, prying eyes. He did his breathing exercises to lower his heart rate and control his irrational fear of the dark. Sean felt his stomach turn over with an empty rumble, reminding him of his half-formed intention of inviting Asbjorn out to dinner tonight. Finals were around the corner, and Sean’s conscience whispered in the dark, reminding him that he should have been studying, not lying in wait on Asbjorn’s doorstep. He’d give him ten more minutes. Seated on top of his backpack, he wrapped his arms around his knees and lowered his head. Just ten more minutes.

T
HE
WHINE
of a powerful engine protested the necessary restraint on slick city streets as the black, red-trimmed Porsche Carrera plowed through the first couple of inches of snow, then pulled up at the curb.

Asbjorn turned around, facing Don, who sat compressed in the backseat. “Hey… thanks for being a pal.” He turned to Adrian, whose black-gloved hands held the wheel with natural ease. “You too, Adrian. Both of you are… I have no words. Really.”

Adrian’s smile didn’t reach his ageless eyes. He fixed an intense, serious gaze upon Asbjorn. “Now you know what you need to do.”

“Yeah, and let us know if you need anything. Now if you could get your butt out of my seat, Asbjorn, I’d like to get outta this sardine can.”

“You sure you’re okay driving back with the snow coming down like this?”

“Yeah,” Adrian said. “But only just.”

Asbjorn nodded, Don’s irritation welcome for its lightening of the serious atmosphere. He slipped out of the car and stood on the sidewalk, watching them leave. His R&R stay with his two esoteric friends was a time of not only pleasure, but also conversation and reflection. He’d have to track down Sean.