Page 11 of Hurricane Love

Still, it was better than the sounds of men crying or jerking off in Cell Block 4 at PCI. Diego’s apartment was clean and functional, and most importantly, private. He was grateful for it.

“Thanks for the ride.” Diego grabbed his hat from his lap and stuck it on his head, pulling the brim low. He should say something more significant, but he’d never been very good at expressing himself–part of his problem. He cleared his throat, feeling incredibly awkward about it. “And thanks for, uh, handling that back there.”

“No problem. You want me to tell Cody to stop coming around?” Wylie offered like he’d do it just to make Diego more comfortable.

“Nah, he looks like he could use a free meal. Frank’s cool with it?”

Wylie shrugged and didn’t confirm or deny it. “I only give him the stuff we probably wouldn’t sell. I feel bad for the guy. He’s always trying to suck my dick, and I keep having to let him down gently.”

Diego chuckled again. Twice in one night must be some kind of record. “Holding onto your virtue?”

Wylie’s smile had just the right amount of cockiness, blue eyes twinkling. “Saving myself for someone special.”

Diego was stunned again at how bold the young man was,and how flirtatious. He probably had several prospects, though. Some people just liked the chase.

“See you tomorrow?” Wylie asked, offering him a friendly fist-bump.

“Yeah, tomorrow.”

Nothing had changed, not really, but as Diego mounted the steps to his sad, empty apartment, for a few minutes he felt just a little bit lighter. A little less alone.

CHAPTER 5

WYLIE

An easy back-and-forthdeveloped between them after that night at the pit. Diego was more relaxed and far less grumpy during their shifts together in the week that followed. Wylie steadily flirted but not obnoxiously so, and every reluctant grin he was able to pull from the reserved man felt like a small triumph. As it so happened, one of Wylie’s exes came into the pit, giving him the perfect opportunity to mention to Diego that he was gay, but all he got in response was a sarcastic, “Yeah, no shit.”

So, there was that.

The man was as maddening as he was hot, a puzzle, a Sphinx. His reluctance to share made each small morsel that Wylie collected incredibly satisfying–raised by a single mom, Catholic though not practicing, big extended Cuban family, most of whom lived locally or in nearby Tampa. Wylie had several follow-up questions, but he was learning Diego’s limits, just how much he could push before the man went silent.

Was this another form of edging?

Being a man with a plan, Wylie’s mission for that night was to get Diego to come out with them as a staff and possibly make some new friends. Socialize and let loose just a little. Maybe evenshare a few secrets? If the night ended in a kiss, then that would be the icing on the cake, the perfect conclusion to his special day.

At present, Diego was testing the temperature of the brisket he’d just pulled out of the smoker. Frank was training him on how to be a pitmaster, which included early morning shifts to set up everything outside and get it going. Watching Diego man the smokers with his ripped biceps and sweaty t-shirt clinging to his back as he expertly maneuvered the meat with those big-ass metal tongs was an erotic experience. The female servers had made it their mission to check on Diego and supply him with cool, refreshing drinks. God forbid the man get heat stroke and need mouth-to-mouth. Thankfully, Wylie was CPR certified.

“You know what today is, don’t you?” Wylie said to him at the start of their lunch shift.

“First day of hurricane season?” Diego said and, while true, that wasn’t necessarily a cause for celebration.

“Also the most important day of the year, because it’s, drumroll please, my birthday.” Wylie finished his announcement with a flourish of his mock drumkit, which earned him one of those reluctant grins. Endearing and incredibly sexy, Wylie considered the smile to be just for him. But he sure did have to work for it.

“Your birthday is today, huh? That makes you…a Gemini?” Diego asked.

Wylie was impressed that Diego knew astrology–even a rudimentary understanding surely indicated that he was gay? Geminis didn’t have the best reputation though, especially in the romance department. A few of Wylie’s exes had accused him of being… well, a petty and conniving two-faced bitch, but it was their bad behavior that triggered his dark side. Besides, it was calledduality.

“I’m a highly evolved Gemini. Self-actualized, some might say,” Wylie said.

Diego chuffed at that, clearly doubting him. “I’ll believe it when I see it. So, you’re turning, what, twenty-two, right? Still just a baby.”

Wylie crossed his arms at the dig. Five years between them was nothing as far as he was concerned, and Diego’s teasing felt more like flirting anyway, so he let it slide. Maybe Wylie was overconfident, but he knew once the two of them were alone together, he could handle the older man just fine. “My youth means I have staying power,” Wylie said while steadily eyeing his crush, hoping to get a rise out of him, literally.

“Hmph,” Diego said, flustered, Wylie could tell, because there was a slight flush of color on his neck, and he wouldn’t make eye contact. Rather than continue to torment him, Wylie pressed onward with his pitch.

“To commemorate this special occasion, we’ll be celebrating tonight at Jimmy Guanas over on Treasure Island. Do you know of this fine establishment?” Wylie asked.

“I am familiar with it, yes,” Diego said with a lopsided grin.