fine.”
Ren didn’t respond immediately but Hayes could sense when he moved toward the door. “I’m leaving in an hour. You can follow me there.”
The music dialed up again, the thrashing cymbals matching the noise in Hayes’s head.
He didn’t look back. He dropped back to the ground, switched arms.
One. Two. Three.
—
Ren stood in the doorway that led from the garage to the kitchen for way too long, watching Hayes do those punishing pushups. The guy looked like a beast—strong, angry, dangerous. The music clung to him like a demon, pushing his movements in time to the relentless beat. Muscles flexed. Sweat rolled over his skin. Ren couldn’t look away.
From this angle, it was like watching a stranger. A beautiful, possessed stranger. Ren had, of course, noticed that Hayes was getting ripped in prison. Every time he visited, the guy seemed to have gotten harder both physically and emotionally. It’d been survival. Hayes was smart, and when facing down a twenty-year sentence, he’d done everything he could to ensure he was that scary motherfucker who other inmates would steer clear of. But Ren hated that Hayes still had to endure these torture sessions just to get through a day.
His body looked sick, sure. Ren would be lying if he said he didn’t enjoy the view. Hayes thought that the offer Ren had made was some sacrificial bullshit, but really, it was selfish. Ren had accepted long ago that despite them both being dominants and Hayes being predominantly straight, his friend would always hit his sexual radar. It’d been there from the start, and it was an imprint he couldn’t erase.
And really, Ren hadn’t expected Hayes to take him up on his offer. Hayes had made a promise to him when they’d first met all those years ago, and he didn’t break promises. Part of that comforted Ren. But the other part frustrated the hell out of him. He saw how Hayes looked at him when he didn’t think Ren was watching. The way his gaze slid over his body. Hayes wasn’t indifferent to him. But he couldn’t see Ren without seeing the past. And that’s what pissed Ren off.
He wasn’t some fragile, messed-up kid anymore. And yeah, he hadn’t been willing to let anyone have the control since that horrible year. The thought of putting himself in that position made him go cold inside. But with Hayes . . . with Hayes those thoughts had a different temperature, especially as he stood here and watched his friend shirtless and dripping with sweat. In his gut, he knew he could go there with him.
But none of that mattered. It was a no go. Hayes was committed to this new life of deprivation and isolation.
Ren had thought that when they’d finally gotten his conviction overturned that Hayes would be able to walk out of that prison and get his life back. The business that they’d built together would get out of the slump it’d gone into after the story broke about Hayes. Things would return to some kind of normal. But the man who’d gone in was not the man who had come out.
That conviction had taken a successful, proud guy who’d been able to command a room with just a look and turned him into this—a guy who didn’t sleep, who worked out to the point of obsession, and who closed himself off to the world. To Ren.
And he had no idea how to help.
But at least today, he’d gotten a yes from him. Hayes would keep his word and come into the office. Ren had stooped low and used guilt to get him there, but it’d worked. Now he just needed to figure out how to keep him there.
Ren gave Hayes one last lingering look. The man was a sight. Up. Down. Up. Down. Grunting like he was fucking. One hand behind his back. A man on an endless mission.
Ren’s cock began to take notice. He shook his head, adjusting the front of his jeans, and turned to go back into the house. He didn’t need to travel down that mental road again. It was one filled with roadblocks and dead ends. Instead, he needed to stay focused on getting Hayes back to work. The key today would be to ease him in. Not too much thrown at him on day one.
But when they arrived at the office later that morning, that plan got shot straight to hell with a booster rocket.
Ren knew something was wrong when he and Hayes stepped through the frosted-glass doors of FoxRen Media and Malik, one of the app designers, was behind the main desk in the lobby instead of Anita, their receptionist. Malik’s dark hair was sticking up on one side like he’d grabbed it and yanked, the phones were ringing, and no one else was in sight.
He glanced up when Ren and Hayes walked in, looking like some possessed cartoon version of himself. “Oh, thank God.”
“What’s going on?” Ren asked, frowning.
Malik’s gaze darted to Hayes then back to Ren. “Anita called in sick and Collin is still out for vacation. The phones have been ringing nonstop because a server went down, which Chelsea is working on, but I should be helping her with that. And then some woman came in first thing this morning demanding to talk to you and refusing to discuss whatever she’s here for with anyone else.” Malik gave him a pleading look. “Can I just send everyone to voice mail?”
Ren groaned. “Send them there for now and then look in the directory. We’ve worked with a temp service before. Call them and see if they can get us a receptionist for the day. After that, go help with the server. That’s priority number one.”
Malik nodded. “Right. Got it.”
“And what happened to the woman who wanted to talk to me?” Ren hiked his messenger bag higher on his shoulder.
Malik jabbed his thumb toward the door that led to the executive offices. “I didn’t know what to do with her and she was . . . persistent, so I just told her to sit outside your office and wait.”
Ren rubbed his forehead. “Of course.”
Because letting a stranger without an appointment into the office was an excellent idea. But Ren kept the comment to himself. The fact that the kid had attempted to handle front office operations when that was clearly out of his comfort zone deserved some credit.
Malik punched a few buttons on the phone. “How do I get this to roll over to voice mail? Goddamn, does it ever stop ringing?”
“Just leave it. I’ve got it.” Ren leaned over the desk and hit the button that would put it in overnight mode. “By the way, Malik, this is our CFO and co-owner, Hayes Fox. Say hi and then get to the server.”
Hayes, who’d been silently watching the meltdown, lifted a hand in a stoic greeting.
Malik paused at that, his eyes going owlish. If Ren were drawing him, he’d have put a little thought box with expletive symbols above Malik’s head. “Oh, um, hi, Mr. Fox. Nice to meet you.”
“Hayes is fine,” he said, voice gruff.
Malik nodded but didn’t look like he’d be calling Hayes by his first name anytime soon. He made some vague motion with his hand. “Uh, I’m going to go and help Chelsea.”
“Yes. Do that.” Ren watched the guy hurry back through the door and then turned to Hayes with a smirk.
