“You know who those guys are, right?” one of Kai’s assistants, a senior at George Mason, asked Kai’s other assistant.
“Of course. Breck Harland, Charlie Maddox, and Jegs Javerson.”
“They look even bigger in person.”
“Jegs definitely does. Grandmaster Kai’s practically as tall as Breck and Charlie, though.”
Curious, Kai crossed his arms and looked at his helpers, a pair he’d taken under his wing since they’d entered his dojang as freshmen. “Should I know who these people are?”
Both turned around and gaped at him.
“Do you not watch college basketball?” the blond named Dindy asked, aghast.
“The Patriot’s Mighty Three?” his other assistant, Jin, quickly tacked on.
Kai grinned at their open excitement, then lifted a brow. “Only three of the team’s members are noteworthy?”
“Well, no,” Dindy clarified. “Cornell and Bryson are amazing, too.”
“But those three?” Jin pointed out the door, his green eyes alight behind his swath of black bangs. “Those three are the fuel to each other’s flame.”
“Magic.”
“Icons.”
Kai chuckled a little. “Ah. I see.”
Dindy eyed him like he was an alien. “You seriously don’t know who they are?”
Jin laughed. “Live under a rock, Grandmaster Kai?”
“Not exactly.” But Kai’s days were pretty busy. And he’d never really followed basketball per se. Maybe because he wasn’t an alumnus of George Mason like nearly everyone else in town. All day long, five days a week, he taught Taekwondo, Qi Gong, and Tai Chi. In his spare time, he either subbed in at the fitness facility or did exhibitions at an all-male establishment known as Dom District; a place where gay or bisexual men went to be themselves. Or more specifically, to expand their proclivities in, well, unconventional ways.
He peered back out at the trio. No wonder they’d been exuding such high-and-mighty vibes. They were celebrities in this town. Had big heads. At first, he thought he’d been imagining it, their lowkey relishing of all the open admiration. The girls had certainly been staring with a star-struck glint in their eyes. So had the boys, come to think of it, in their own revering way—Jin and Dindy included, stealing glances whenever they thought the three weren’t looking. But the trio had known, there was no doubt about it. And although they didn’t strut around like peacocks, they’d definitely been eating up the praise. Basking in the gratifying glow atop of their pedestals.
Which was fine. As long as it didn’t interfere with Kai’s class.
When the place was clear of students, he and his assistants straightened things up, then Kai escorted Jin and Dindy to the door. “Thanks for your help.” He bowed.
Both bowed in return. “See you tomorrow, Grandmaster Kai.”
Kai set his security system, then made his way toward a door in the back corner of the room; the fire safety exit, but also the way to his private apartment.
Pushing it open, he stepped into a modest vestibule, an area of the building used only by him. If someone wanted to visit via the building’s back entrance, he’d have to buzz them up.
A black steel door led to the parking lot out back. Another, to his garage. And to his left, a stairwell up to his abode.
Kai took to the stairs, the ‘Mighty Three’ still lingering in his mind. Or rather, one of the three. Breck Harland. He’d caught Kai’s eye the moment he’d entered the dojang. Because of his good looks, certainly. He was strikingly beautiful. Firm, full lips. Bright, amber eyes. Dark, muscular, and lean. But there was something else about him, too. Something Kai couldn’t quite place. A feeling. Something he’d sensed right from the start…
One thing he did know? Breck had been checking him out, and not just in the sizing-him-up sort of way. Kai had felt it in the weight of his stare. He’d been assessing him from a completely different standpoint. He could be wrong, but he suspected Mr. Basketball may, in fact, swing both ways. Although, with so many ladies at his disposal—he probably tapped the female font on a much more regular basis.
And yet, Kai’d caught him looking his way more times than not. It made him wonder if the kid even realized how much he’d been staring.
A smile tugged at his lips. He reached the top step, then entered his passcode beside his apartment’s front door. Three years ago, when he was twenty-seven, he purchased this building with plans to open his own dojang. It didn’t take long to discover the space above would be perfect to live in. After the arduous process of working with contractors and getting inspection approvals, he’d revamped the upper level and made it his own.
The security panel beeped, then a subtle click sounded. He pushed open the door and stepped inside. In charge of designing the place himself, he’d gone with familiar. All the traditional elements of a Japanese-American home. Lots of open space, clean lines, and minimal furniture, with plenty of natural elements like wood and light.