Colin was tempted to refuse to tell him anything, just because Nevin was so infuriating. But, well, he really did need help. And he was fairly certain that if he didn’t cough up his address, Nevin would follow through on his threat to just look it up.

  “Fine,” Colin said and gave him the information.

  EVEN THOUGH Colin had a head start, when he arrived at his building, the purple GTO was already there. In the fire lane. Colin generally stuck pretty close to the speed limit; Nevin, he suspected, did not. Colin pulled alongside Nevin’s car and lowered the passenger window. “You can’t park there,” he said loudly.

  Nevin sat behind the wheel, tapping his fingers impatiently. “Nowhere else to park in your fucking neighborhood, is there? Not for the rabble, anyway.” He nodded toward the gated entrance to Colin’s lot.

  “But it’s a red zone.”

  “And every goddamn meter maid and gorilla in blue knows Julie. I’m not getting ticketed.”

  Okay, so being a cop brought privileges. “What if there’s a fire?”

  “Then your building goes up in flames, hundreds die, and you get to blame me. Satisfied?”

  Colin had never been so tempted to wrap his hands around another person’s neck. It was lucky he couldn’t reach Nevin at the moment. “Fine. Meet me at my car.” He pulled away and into the lot.

  Without exchanging more than a few grunts, they wrestled the heavy box across the street and up to Colin’s apartment. They had to put it down while Colin got out his keys and unlocked the door. “Don’t let Legolas out,” he warned as he turned the knob.

  “Who?”

  “My cat.”

  They got the box inside, and Nevin kicked the door closed. “What kind of name is Legolas?”

  “You know, the elf.” They set the AC down. “From Tolkien. Orlando Bloom was one of my first crushes.”

  Nevin clearly had no idea what he was talking about.

  “Lord of the Rings,” Colin explained.

  “Never seen it.”

  “You should. It wouldn’t wound your masculinity. It’s not Disney, there’s no singing, and no princesses.” He paused and thought for a moment. “Okay, there sort of is one. She’s an elf too. But mostly there’s a lot of fighting. Manly fighting.” He decided to omit the homoerotic undertones of Frodo and Sam’s relationship.

  “I don’t watch that shit.”

  “What do you watch? Car chases and explosions?”

  Nevin shrugged. Then, instead of leaving, he ripped the flaps of the box open. “Gimme a hand.”

  They knew from Bright Hope that getting the unit out of the box was slightly tricky. They managed it, though, and soon plastic wrapping and bits of packing foam lay scattered on the floor as the air conditioner did its best to combat the oppressive heat. But Nevin still didn’t head for the door, and Colin felt rude and ungrateful.

  “You want something cold to drink?” he offered.

  “Hell yes.”

  Nevin trailed him into the open kitchen, then waited through Colin’s recitation as he peered into the fridge. “Water? Beer? Diet Coke? Iced tea?”

  “You got a whole convenience store tucked away in there?” Nevin shook his head. “Iced tea’s good.”

  Colin handed him a bottle and took one for himself. He unscrewed the top and took a few long swallows, watching as Nevin gave himself a slow tour of the loft. Nevin glanced at the TV and sound system and looked briefly at the corner Colin used as a home office, but he seemed most interested in the shelving units. “You have a lot of books. And DVDs.”

  “I suppose so.” Colin had been collecting movies and books since he was a kid, and he could rarely bring himself to get rid of any. Sometimes he made a stab at organizing them, although he kept changing his mind about which scheme to use. Genre? Chronology? Author or director? Title? And sometimes he just set them in piles until Leg threatened to topple the stacks.

  Nevin mostly looked, but sometimes he pulled a book or movie from the shelf and read the back before replacing it. He obviously wasn’t in a hurry. Colin liked the way he moved, his motions graceful yet economical, his slow stride self-assured. And God, he was beautiful. So well-made. But there was also a certain set to his shoulders that Colin thought he recognized. Was Nevin lonely?

  “Are you going to JayJay’s?” Colin blurted. When Nevin turned to look at him in surprise, the words flowed out of Colin’s mouth as if he’d accidentally turned on the stupidity faucet. “Because maybe you are, or maybe you have other plans. It’s Saturday night after all. But, you know, you could hang out here if you wanted. We could watch a movie or something. I was going to do The Philadelphia Story, but we don’t have to. We could watch something else. Like An American in Paris. Or West Side Story. If you want. And I won’t molest you or anything, because I’m not the type who loses it over straight guys.” He pressed his lips together before things got worse.

  To his surprise, Nevin didn’t make fun of him and didn’t refuse. Instead he stared. Then his mouth twitched into a small smile. “Who says I’m straight?”

  “You told me yourself that you slept with Kayla.”

  “I’ve slept with a lot of girls. And a lot of boys. I’ve never seen any good reason to limit my opportunities.”

  Colin gaped. Then he narrowed his eyes. “You’re teasing me.”

  “Whattaya want? A testimonial from my last several fuck buddies?” Nevin held up his right hand, making the oath gesture. “I swear on a stack of Corbin Fisher discs that I like dick as much as pussy, and when it comes to ass, well, I’m an equal-opportunity kind of guy.”

  He seemed sincere, at least as far as Colin could tell, and Colin couldn’t think of a good reason for him to lie. “Okay. You could have mentioned this back when I was accusing you of being a homophobe.”

  “Where would’ve been the fun in that?”

  “Does Manuel know?”

  “Yep.”

  Well, that explained Manuel’s amusement that morning. Manuel could have said something, but maybe he figured it wasn’t his place to out Nevin if, for whatever reason, Nevin chose to keep his bisexuality to himself. Colin sighed. “Do you want to stay and watch a movie or not?”

  “I get to choose it.”

  And now a new emotion made itself known inside Colin—excitement. God. He wanted Nevin to stay. “Take your time. I’m feeling kind of rank, so I’m going to take a quick shower, okay?”

  Nevin looked down at himself. “Me too.” He rolled his eyes. “After you’re done, Bow Tie. Just ’cause I play for your team doesn’t mean I think you’re irresistible.” He smirked a little, no doubt pleased with himself for throwing Colin’s earlier accusations back at him.

  Deciding to be a gentleman over the whole thing, Colin waved a hand toward the bathroom. “You first.”

  The loft’s bed-and-bath area was separated from the main space by a partial wall that came nowhere close to the high ceiling. A small water closet offered the toilet complete privacy, but the sink and oversized shower were open to the bedroom. It was an arrangement that worked perfectly for Colin because he lived alone. It had never been a big deal when Trent came over either. But it felt a bit awkward with Nevin.

  Colin grabbed a towel and washcloth from the closet and handed them over. “Um, everything else is in there.” He waved at the shower.

  “I bet you have bodywash instead of soap. And a half-dozen kinds of hair product.”

  Okay, so Nevin wasn’t mocking him because Colin was gay—he was mocking him because Nevin was kind of a jerk. No. Not a jerk. Just… prickly? Maybe he treated even close friends that way. Colin smiled sweetly. “Only three, but you’re welcome to try them all.” Then he walked away.

  Thanks to the loft’s acoustics and lack of interior walls, he heard the shower running even when he was in the kitchen feeding Leg. The sound led to thoughts of Nevin in the shower. Naked, running soapy hands over his slick body. Knowing Nevin was into guys somehow made Colin feel less guilty about such thoughts. But the naughtiness would need to stay in his imagination. Sure, Nevin liked him enough to want to spend a couple of hours with him. And by Nevin’s own description, that meant he’d likely be willing to sleep with Colin. But it would be nothing but a one-night stand, and Colin didn’t do those.

  Right?

  “Hey! Collie!” Nevin’s shout carried well, especially now that the water had stopped. But… Collie?

  “What?”

  “Come here!”

  Nevin sounded so urgent that Colin almost ran—only to come to a screeching halt when he saw Nevin standing in the middle of the bedroom without a stitch of clothing on.

  “Uh,” said Colin.

  Ignoring him, Nevin toweled his hair dry, walked back near the shower, and hung the towel on a hook. Then he toed at his clothes, which lay in a little pile on the floor. “These fucking reek. Can I borrow something?”

  Since Colin’s tongue didn’t seem to be working, he just nodded. It was a relief to turn away and paw through his dresser. He pulled out some things nearly at random—a Han Solo T-shirt, a pair of boxer briefs, and thin gray sweatpants. But when he spun back around, Nevin was still naked, still right there, a few droplets of water shining on his warm brown skin. His body was sleek and nearly hairless, every inch of him so perfect that Colin’s mouth went dry.

  “Here,” Colin said, pushing the clothing at him. “Um, they should fit.”

  Clearly amused, Nevin took them. But instead of putting them on, he held them to his chest and sauntered toward the bedroom exit. He paused at the opening. “I’m gonna grab another iced tea, okay?”

  “Uh, help yourself.”

  Nevin walked away. Colin’s hands shook slightly as he stripped off his own clothes and turned on the spray. But by the time he stood under the downpour, he’d made a decision.

  Chapter Seven

  WHEN NEVIN reached for the refrigerator door, he caught the cat watching him. It was a handsome animal, with a triangular face like a Siamese, blue eyes verging on violet, and pale orange coloring on the tips of its fur. “Hello, Legolas,” Nevin said. The cat looked as scandalized by Nevin’s nudity as Colin had.

  Nevin hadn’t actually intended to shock or provoke Colin. After all, he was used to wearing his birthday suit around men he had no intention of fucking. Gay, straight, or otherwise, none of the guys at the gym gave nudity much thought. Okay, that wasn’t quite true. Sometimes some of them checked each other out. But none of them ever looked as stunned as Colin just had.

  “Your boy doesn’t get much action, does he?” Nevin said to the cat. And since the cat still looked disapproving, Nevin set the bottle of iced tea on the counter and pulled on the borrowed underwear and tee. He didn’t bother with the sweats because it was too hot, and anyway, the boxer briefs offered just as much coverage as the shorts he’d been wearing all day. That should be enough to calm Colin.

  As he wandered toward the bookshelves, he asked himself what in high holy hell he was doing. Sure, Colin was cute and, it turned out, a little more multifaceted than Nevin had thought. While Nevin had expected a spoiled rich kid, Colin had worked as hard as anyone else that day, never once bitching about the heat or heavy labor. He hadn’t seemed to be craving attention or appreciation—hell, he hadn’t even asked Manuel for a tax receipt for the AC donation. He’d been unexpectedly fun to work with. And he was sweet, which was all the more reason for Nevin to get his ass out of here. Colin didn’t want what Nevin had to offer, and he likely deserved a hell of a lot more.

  And yet. Here Nevin was, wearing Colin’s goddamn underwear and trying to choose between Up and The Lion King.

  Fuck.

  “Hakuna matata.”

  Nevin startled so violently he nearly dropped the DVD. “What the fuck?”

  Colin smiled at him. He’d put on a clean T-shirt—it had a drawing of a superhero Nevin didn’t recognize—and a clean pair of running shorts, and although it looked as if he’d tried to tame his hair with a comb, the damp locks were escaping into waves. He smelled good, like exotic spices. “It means no worries,” Colin said.

  “Huh?”

  Colin reached over and tapped the DVD case. “It’s from the movie.”

  “What are you, part cat? You fucking snuck up on me. You’re lucky I wasn’t carrying.”

  “You don’t really have anyplace to carry at the moment.” Colin looked him up and down. “Um, am I overdressed?”

  “Too hot for sweats.”

  Seemingly satisfied with that explanation, Colin snatched The Lion King, pranced across the room, and stuck the disc into the player. Then he waved at the couch. “Have a seat. I’ll join you in a sec.”

  Bemused, Nevin obeyed. It was a comfortable couch, and Colin had angled the AC to blow air that way. While Nevin settled in, Colin rustled in cupboards, then stuck a bag of popcorn in the microwave. It was funny—earlier in the day, Nevin had accused Colin of ogling his ass, but now Nevin was doing the ogling. For good reason, because Colin had a really nice one, round and meaty. The type a guy could really hang on to.

  Except Nevin wasn’t going to hang on to anything, remember?

  Colin bounced over, settled a bowl of popcorn in Nevin’s lap, and plopped down on the couch beside him. Closer than Nevin had expected, actually.

  “Now,” Colin said, picking up the remote, “you are welcome to sing along.”

  “I don’t know the words.”

  “Not to any of the songs?”

  “I’ve never seen this movie,” Nevin admitted.

  “Never?” Colin looked as if Nevin had just told him he’d never used indoor plumbing. “I mean, I get it. Nowadays you’re the big bad cop. But what about when you were a kid?”

  Nevin managed not to flinch. “I didn’t watch movies then.”

  Colin gave him an odd look, then shrugged and grabbed some popcorn. “Fine. I will sing along all by myself. Maybe you can pick up the chorus.” He pressed Play.

  He did sing, and well. And of course it was just a dopy kids’ cartoon, but Colin obviously enjoyed it, and Nevin found he enjoyed sitting next to him, hearing him laugh. Somehow the space between them gradually vanished, so eventually they sat hip-to-hip, the fine hairs on Colin’s thighs faintly tickling Nevin. Nevin wasn’t usually the touchy-feely type, but he didn’t mind the contact.

  Then, just when Simba was chatting with his father’s ghost, Colin’s phone rang on the end table beside him. He glanced at it and frowned. “Crap. Sorry, gotta take this.” He picked up the phone in one hand and paused the movie with his other. “Hi, Mom,” he said into the phone. Giving Nevin an apologetic smile, he stood and walked into the kitchen.

  “Yeah, I’m sorry. I was busy all day. It was a lot of work. … But I didn’t drop dead. … Mom, I’m not going to check in with you every time you worry. That would be, like, all the time. You’re listed as my next of kin. If I keel over, you’ll be the first to know. … Yeah, yeah, I’m sorry. … I’m busy right now. I have a friend over and we’re watching a movie. I’ll call you tomorrow, when I’m still not dead. Okay? … Love you too. Good night.”

  While Colin was in the kitchen, the cat appeared out of nowhere and stood at Nevin’s feet, looking up at him expectantly. As soon as Nevin set aside the popcorn bowl, Legolas hopped up, landing lightly in his lap, and settled into a purring little lump. The fur behind his ears was incredibly soft.

  “Want anything?” Colin called.

  “I’m good.”

  Colin was sipping from a bottle of beer when he returned to the couch. “Sorry about the interruption.”

  “You’re kinda old to be checking in with the parents, aren’t you?”

  With a frustrated sound, Colin sat and tipped his head onto the back of the couch. “Way too old. Mom’s just… overprotective, you know? And mostly it’s easier to humor her than make a fuss.”

  “Just tell her you’re a big boy and she needs to take a fucking hike.”

  Colin laughed. “Can’t really picture using those words with her.” He turned his head to look at Nevin. “Would you tell your mom that?”

  “Yes,” Nevin answered tightly. In the unlikely event the bitch was still alive and he ever saw her again, he’d have a hell of a lot to say.

  “Hmm.” Colin picked up the remote but didn’t turn the movie back on. Instead he jerked his chin toward Nevin’s lap. “You should consider yourself honored. Leg doesn’t like too many people other than me.”

  As if in agreement, the cat made a quiet chirrup and rolled over, exposing his soft belly for rubs. Nevin had never had a pet and rarely gave animals much thought, although he had seen what a positive effect they could have on people. He’d witnessed more than one distressed victim calmed by the presence of a dog or cat.

  Hell, he felt pretty peaceful himself at the moment, as if he could finally relax just a bit. Maybe Legolas was the cause. Or maybe it was Colin’s loft, with its exposed brick and warm woods. It was a big improvement over the series of generic apartments Nevin had called home. Undoubtedly well out of his price range too, even though it wasn’t as huge or high-end as he’d expected. The furniture, while obviously good quality, was comfortable and well-used. Colin hadn’t cluttered the place with froufrou knickknacks either. A few framed old-movie posters hung on the wall.

  So for now he’d enjoy the pleasant surroundings and the pettable cat. And the company of a nice and handsome man.

  Colin reached over and stroked under Legolas’s chin. “That was nice of you to help out today,” he said.

  “Manny and I go back a few years. I’ve referred some victims to him. Sometimes when I’m worried about someone—someone like Roger Grey—Manny will come out and talk to them, let them know about Bright Hope.”

  “That makes sense.” Both men continued to stroke the cat, and Legolas purred vigorously enough for Nevin to feel the vibration. “What made you decide to be a cop?”

  Sometimes Nevin gave simple answers to that question. It paid fairly well. It was interesting. He wasn’t stuck behind a desk all day. It could be exciting. He didn’t have a supervisor breathing down his neck very often. He got to boss people around. All of those things were accurate. But somehow he found himself telling Colin the real truth. “I wanted to rise above the shit.”