Kai’s shoulders bounced. “Sorry. One’s the stipulation to my offer. If I allowed you more, then I’d have to extend the same to everyone else.”
“And that’d be bad, why?” Remi whimpered softly.
Kai grinned and shook his head.
Remi sighed, resigned. But then slowly smiled. “Mr. Black Leather Vest. With the goatee and neck ink, and those yummy daddy vibes.”
Kai’s lips twitched. “And so it is.” He headed to the entrance and gave Mr. Black Vest the cue to come inside. The large man beamed as the rest loosed sounds of disappointment. Kai shrugged with a smirk, and then he was off to check the rig jobs of his students. Nerve damage was real, after all, and absolutely no one was accruing injuries on his watch.
Once finished, he headed to the room’s built-in sound system and kicked on some tunes. Before long, the steam levels started to spike. Moans and gasps. Husky chuckles. Restless curses. And as Kai settled in for another long night of self-imposed voyeurism, he couldn’t help thinking about Breck again and wondering what he was up to. No doubt by now, he was fully intoxicated. Out on the town with his friends in celebration of graduation.
Kai sighed and crossed his arms.
Breck was young. Too young.
He should definitely think about something else.
Easier said than done at the moment, with reminders everywhere he looked.
— TWENTY-ONE —
“Double bounce, my serve!” Ned crowed in glee as, for the umpteenth time, Breck lunged for the ball but wasn’t able to get to it in time.
“Tell me again,” Breck panted, coming to a stop, “why I agreed to play racquetball with you today?”
Ned moved to the service box of the huge indoor court. “Because I’m your boo,” he grinned, “and you can’t say no to me.”
Breck grunted and shuffled into receiver position. “I don’t know about my boo, but you’re definitely my bane.”
Ned laughed and served the ball like a champ, firing it into the front wall before it ricocheted back in Breck’s direction. Breck lurched forward, swatting the thing with his racquet, another rally commencing, sharp whacks and chirping sneakers reverberating raucously. Breck winced, the sounds so piercing. And Jesus, were these courts always so ridiculously bright? Everything about it assaulted his sensitized senses, making his head pound even harder than it already was.
God, he felt like shit. Thanks, in part, to some poorly made choices.
In hindsight, back-to-back nights of drinking had not been the wisest idea.
As Ned pranced around the room like a rambunctious puppy, Breck lunged haphazardly, barely making his shots. This was not a pretty game. Nor an enjoyable one. More like borderline torture. Too bad he hadn’t known how his weekend would play out when he’d made these plans with Ned last week.
Ned’s next swat came with exceptional zeal. It nailed the front wall then went careening back toward the court’s far side. Breck cursed and hustled over, lunged and whacked it, but at an angle that didn’t jive, the ball’s momentum faltering before it could make it back to the wall.
“Skip!” Ned announced, swiping it up. “Point for me. What’s that now, Mr. King of the Court? Seven to nothing?”
Jesus. Ned was handing him his ass.
Breathless, Breck shot him a scowl, clutching his knees. “Didn’t you drink last night, too?”
“Yup.” Ned strutted back to the service box. “With some buddies from parkour.”
Breck eyed him. “So how are you so perky today? They make you designated driver?”
“Nope.” Ned bounced the ball. “I got nicely lit. So nicely lit that I…” He stopped mid-sentence and made a face. “Well, let’s just say there was an altercation.”
Breck quirked a brow and straightened up, his interest piqued. “An altercation?” He fought a grin. “Ned, what’d you do?”
“Pfft.” Ned waved it off.
Breck laughed. “Ned. Tell me what the fuck you did.”
Ned’s lips twitched. Then his cheeks went pink. “I might have told the bouncer that he had really nice tits.”
Breck blinked. Then cracked up laughing. “The fuck?”
Ned’s grin shot wide. “That’s what he said, too!” He bounced the ball again and shook his head. “Nah, but seriously, I’m telling you. That dude.” He gestured to his pecs. “Total overkill on his workout. Man needs to chill.”
“And you felt the need to tell him this in such an emasculating way?”
“It’s called ‘constructive criticism,’ Breck. Something that big-boobed baby clearly couldn’t take.”
Breck snickered. “He kicked you out.”
Ned sniffed and shifted his weight. “Yeah. He did. Rather physically… Along with my posse.” Another face. “They were not pleased.”
“You’re an idiot,” Breck laughed.
Ned smiled unrepentantly. “Like I said, I was lit.”
Which brought Breck back to his original thought. He crossed his arms. “And you got drunk as hell on Friday night, too. Which begs the question: How the fuck are you so wide eyed and bushy tailed today?”
Ned lifted a brow, then lifted his chin. “I have my ways.”