In between stirring his eggs, Gage turned, surveying Ulric. His gaze swept over Ulric’s face, then his mug, warm like a lover’s touch. Ulric almost blushed. And Gage looked thoughtful. “You know, you look kind of cute like that.”
Ulric sprayed coffee all over the stove. “What the fuck?”
“No?” Gage squinted and tilted his head, scrutinizing Ulric. “You’re wearing your glasses, which is a plus.”
“These are just glasses.”
“But they make you look smart.”
Ulric stared. Had Gage hit his head sometime during the night? It didn’t seem as though he was joking. In fact, Gage looked completely serious. So why...? “I’m fat,” Ulric said eventually. It wasn’t something he wanted to mention, but Gage had to know this.
Gage’s attention coasted down Ulric’s chest, to his belly. Ulric held his breath and poked at the bacon. He didn’t want to hear Gage talking about all his extra pounds. Bad enough that they were so difficult to shed.
Gage shrugged. “Yeah, well.”
Didn’t it matter to him? “You’re a physical trainer.”
“It just means I see people with all kinds of body types.”
Was he... pitying Ulric? Was this why he was being nice? “You haven’t dated anyone fat before,” Ulric said.
Gage almost looked guilty as he folded in the scrambled egg. “I guess not.”
Ulric breathed out the crushing I knew it in his chest. “Anyway, you said we’re going to be friends.”
Not boyfriends. At least Ulric didn’t have to get his hopes up that high.
“Yeah. Movie night tonight?” Gage smiled. “You pick something.”
That... almost sounded like a date. “Sure. I like horror movies.”
“Those make me scream like a baby.” Gage laughed. “Are you sure?”
Someone like Gage, screaming? “No way.”
“Yes way.”
“We’ll watch the Bloody Hollows movie that just released, then,” Ulric said. “I’ve been wanting to see it.”
Gage scowled. “I’m not watching that.”
“Chicken.”
That slipped out of Ulric’s mouth before he really thought about it—a remnant from his past. But instead of getting offended, Gage straightened his shoulders, looking obstinate. “Fine. I’ll watch it.”
“I’ll get some popcorn,” Ulric said.
“I’ll make it. It’s fantastic when you top it with powdered parmesan. Mm.” Gage grunted, looking so satisfied that Ulric couldn’t help staring. “Here. Egg’s almost done.”
He dished breakfast. Ulric added bacon strips to the plates. Then they moved to the dining table and sat across from each other. That was slightly awkward.
Ulric stared at his morning-after omelette, cooked to perfection—it glistened in the sunlight, golden yellow and creamy, dusted with pepper. “It’ll go perfectly with toast,” he blurted.
Gage made to stand. “I’ll pop some in the oven.”
“No, you don’t have to.”
“Why not?”
Ulric flushed. “I’m on a diet.”
Gage thought about it, still halfway out of his chair. “Sliced tomatoes?”
“This is fine.” Ulric popped a bite of omelette into his mouth. It fell apart on his tongue, warm and buttery and a touch salty, and it tasted so good that he might’ve groaned.
He scooped another chunk into his mouth, then another. Egg was delicious. Especially cooked this way. Especially because Gage had made this for him. It wasn’t until he’d emptied half his plate that he looked up, to find Gage sitting down hard, watching him.
“Good, huh?” Gage murmured.
Ulric froze. That wasn’t what he’d planned. He hadn’t meant to stuff his face in front of Mr. Perfect. Nor had he meant to groan and make weird sounds while eating Gage’s food.
Gage smiled. “Are you set to do the cook-off this weekend? I’ll bet you two hundred bucks that my ribs will beat the best sex you’ve ever had.”
Fuck. Ulric knew Gage would win, hands-down. It wasn’t like Ulric had experienced mind-blowing sex before. “Sure.”
“I can’t wait until you taste my meat,” Gage said, his smile slow and confident. “And I’ll taste yours.”
Ulric’s face burned. Gage had to know what that sounded like.
“I should get back to work,” Ulric mumbled, hurrying back into the kitchen before his body betrayed him further. He did the dishes, put away the leftover bacon, and refilled his coffee mug. Then he hurried upstairs, away from Gage’s too-shrewd gaze.
Maybe he shouldn’t have agreed to movie night. Maybe he shouldn’t let himself be so vulnerable, but he couldn’t help it.
Ulric locked himself in his study, hoping Gage would have the good sense to stay away.
9
There Is Only One Couch
Of all the people in the world... Gage hadn’t expected O’Neil to moan over his food.
He’d made omelettes for others. Girlfriends, boyfriends, one-night-stands... None of them had ever reacted the way O’Neil had. At best, he’d received a sweet thank you, or maybe a blowjob in return.
Then along came Ulric O’Neil, who had taken one bite and groaned, his head thrown back, his jaw working slowly like he was savoring the most decadent thing he’d ever tasted. He’d scooped up mouthful after mouthful, every bite drawing a new sound from his throat.
At his reaction, something primal had stirred in Gage’s gut. He’d never heard an alpha groan before, not like that. Never when they were eating his omelettes.
He’d started wondering if O’Neil would groan, eating his ribs. Or his steaks. Then he’d wondered if O’Neil would groan if he tasted Gage’s cock.
And Gage had hardened, thinking about pushing his tip into O’Neil’s mouth, O’Neil with that look of bliss on his face.
He would love it, wouldn’t he?
Suddenly, Gage had known what O’Neil would sound like, if Gage ever sucked his cock. He’d known, too, the thickness of O’Neil’s tip in his mouth, the weight of it on his tongue, the salt of his precome as he yanked on Gage’s hair, panting.
It had been... kind of hot.
Gage had grown hard that morning—for an alpha, of all things. He wasn’t sure why. He wasn’t sure what to do about it.
But O’Neil was also his landlord. And Gage very definitely owed him more than
