Friday mornings were supposed to be the best day of the week. That was largely irrelevant for anyone in the entertainment or fashion business like me, but there was the vague hope they wouldn’t go to complete shit before I’d even had my coffee.

Any day Alex’s name showed up on my caller ID was bound to be the shittiest of shitty days. Before 9 a.m.? Yeah, that hadn’t happened in months.

“What is it?” I answered, my tone harsh.

“Good morning to you, too.” It was unmistakably his voice.

I gritted my teeth, reminded myself to breathe so I didn’t break a tooth, then massaged my jaw one-handed and answered, “What?”

“I have some interesting news to share.”

“I probably don’t care.”

“Even if it involves your precious boy toy?”

Like it or not, that did grab my attention. “I assume you mean Leonel.”

“Good job pretending you didn’t put your dick in that. I know you. Pretty young face shows up in casting? No way you won’t be all over that.”

Not with anyone since him. Or most guys before him… I knew my silence was complicity, but I wasn’t going to lie, either. If Alex was recording this conversation, he could twist my words any which way.

“I get it, you still miss me,” I answered instead. “What do you want?”

“Well, I just signed a contract with a certain someone from Long Island City… Oh, I’m sorry. I mean Tribeca.”

It took me a minute to figure that one out. “What?”

“Oh, oops. How about this, I told you so?”

My heart was dropping through my stomach, even as I pretended I didn’t know what he meant.

No. Not again.

I’d given Leonel space, but maybe he’d been secretly asking for the opposite. Maybe I’d just completely fucked that one up.

“I told you, Leonel will be mine. You owe me -- oh wait, you gave me more than fifty bucks. I bet a lot of guys pay a lot more than that for him. I’m about to find out.”

My breathing went heavy, so I yanked the phone away from my ear and slammed it on the cradle. There was the tiniest moment of satisfaction -- a heavy old-fashioned phone had that one thing going for it. I hung up on people every few weeks, when I was trying to force a deal, and there was nothing like it.

Okay, no. This was serious shit I was in right now. If Leonel had just signed a contract…

I had to talk to him, and now.

He’d just been at an event last night, hadn’t he? I wracked my brain for a second to recall the hotel name, then shoved my shoes and jacket on. I didn’t even bother locking up my office after myself as I strode down the hallway, my every sense focused on getting to that hotel before Leonel checked out.

I would be the first to admit my driving was a little erratic, but I was sober and careful considering the traffic in downtown New York City.

I had to circle the block three times to find some fucking parking, but when I did, I was off like a shot, sprinting into the hotel lobby.

It wasn’t like Leonel would be invisible once he left the hotel -- he still had to get paid, and I had his address from his resume. And the taxi that had dropped him off after we got in from the airport almost a couple weeks ago now, maybe I could find that taxi record.

I strode up to the desk and sharply nodded. “I need Leonel James’ room number.”

“I can’t--”

“I’m Gideon Hall, his boss… and boyfriend.” I’d pull out all the stops if I had to. “It’s an emergency. You can call his room after I get there to confirm everything’s fine. Just, please...” I handed the concierge a fifty dollar bill. “Help me out here.”

The concierge finally gave me a number and I was off to the elevator, my heart squeezing with the fear that Leonel wasn’t there or, worse yet, wouldn’t answer the door.

Maybe he was holed up in Alex’s hotel room.

That was an irrational fear, but it was going to press on my mind until I knew for sure.

I knocked hard on the door, my chest squeezing until I heard a shuffle and slide of a lock from the other side.

It was Leonel, his gaze down, fingers curled hard around the edge of the door, but carefully keeping to the interior side like he expected to have to slam the door closed again.

I let my gaze soften instead, resisting the urge to get pissed off just yet. “I want to talk. I’m not here to harm you.”

“Is that what you told Alex before you ruined his career?”

I sucked in my breath, then put my hand on the door. “No. I warned him. I can talk about that, too, if you want.”

Leonel hesitated, but he slowly swung open the door and I let out a breath of relief. I stepped inside, staying in the hallway.

He was just right there, his hands in his pockets and gaze downcast.

I didn’t know if I wanted to shake him by the shoulders, fuck him, or hug him with everything I had.

I went for the hug option, crushing him first, wrapping those scrawny shoulders against my chest and running my hand just to the small of his back.

“What the fuck?” he whispered after a few seconds of this, then relaxed into my chest and looped his arms around my neck.

We just stood there, in the middle of his hotel room, not speaking to each other and just letting the silence take over for a moment.

Then, he pulled back, his breathing rough as he swiped at his eyes. “I fucked up. I’m gonna keep fucking up at my own pace.”

“Why not come to me first? If you thought you had to switch agencies because of… something you did…”

“It’s stuff you did, too.”

It was hard not to be defensive, but I tried my best. I sucked in a breath through my teeth, then sharply nodded. “How?”

“You ruined Alex’s career. And frankly, that’s fucking terrifying. Did you do the same to me? Did you tell everyone about all the shit I did?”

Now, I finally got a better look at him. He had dark circles under his eyes, and he was fidgeting. He obviously hadn’t slept much last night, and that was a definite breed of fearful paranoia talking.

Was Leonel actually losing it? No, I didn’t think so. It was just the fear talking.

And I had had that meeting with Hughie and Raymond over the weekend -- about whether to switch his department after all. If that had all been a quick, hot fizz -- whether from the distractible nature of the industry or from his own behavior in the fashion capitals…

“I didn’t, and you’ll have to believe me on that,” I said, gently and firmly. “And you’re right. It’s your choice. You can fucking leave me -- and Alex did, too, and that was also his choice to make.”

Leonel gritted his teeth and jerked his head in a quick nod.

“Doesn’t mean it’s not gonna hurt me. Doesn’t mean it’s not a dangerous move for your career. Really dangerous. You remember how I started this agency? I didn’t start off planning to.”

He was listening now, that façade halfway down and startled out of him, just from my showing up without notice.

“I left my agency, started to crash, and pulled back hard into a new career change before I became a nobody. It’s your choice,” I told him. “But you’re stupid for doing it.”

Leonel jutted his chin and stepped closer. He radiated all the bravado and bluster of a twenty-two-year-old with a chip on his shoulder and a belief in himself that was stronger than anyone else could fathom.

That defiant spark that sent heat crawling through me, and the desire not to tame it, but to fan it.

But maybe fanning it had been a mistake all along. “You fucked up,” I whispered, our lips just inches apart. I didn’t reach out to him again yet. I just let the chemistry build up between us until it was unbearable.

Shit. I love him, and I’m never, ever going to be able to tell him that.

“Shut up and fuck me, if that’s what you want from me.”

“Among other things,” I whispered, raising a hand. I trailed one finger along his jaw from his chin back to his ear, my gaze fixing on Leonel’s expression.

The way his lips parted, his long lashes met his upper cheeks a few times as his eyes fluttered shut, the tip of his tongue peeked out…

I couldn’t resist for a second longer. I stepped close, my hand running up from his side to his shoulder and back down his back as I cupped his cheek and leaned in for a hard, sucking, bruising kiss.

Leonel kissed me back with all the force of a hurricane, slamming me up against the wall.

I grabbed his ass with both hands now and pulled him up, up into my arms, until he hooked his ankles around my waist and I could turn him around, pinning him up against the wall. He was light, easy to hold, easy to throw around… maybe throw on the bed this time.

“Up against the wall again? You kinky bastard.”

“That’s not as kinky as I get.”

“Is that a promise?” he taunted.

I kissed the smart-ass words out of his mouth, sucking on his lower lip until his full-throated groan spilled from his lips.

Then the desk phone rang.