He stood uncertainly. “I should wait, shouldn’t I?”
The door opened then. Someone strode in, tall and broad-shouldered, with dark hair combed back. Strong jaw, mahogany eyes.
Except instead of a leather vest and tight pants, there was a suit, a paper folder, and gleaming leather shoes.
Daniel stopped breathing. Heath Sanderson was the boss?
His stomach clenched. His thoughts went entirely blank, and he felt like puking, even more than before.
He’s going to fire me now.
Heath froze, his eyes locking onto Daniel. He opened his mouth, as though he was going to say something. But he glanced at the rest of the conference room, and reconsidered.
“Go ahead and begin the presentation,” Heath said, his voice floating somewhere above Daniel’s head. “Don’t mind me.”
But Daniel couldn’t ignore him. Heath knew what he looked like under his clothes. Heath had seen him beg.
Heath was going to sit through this, and then he’d tell Daniel to get out.
Daniel’s stomach heaved. “Excuse me,” he blurted, and fled through the closing door.
The conference room lay on a different floor than he usually worked on. Daniel pressed his hand over his mouth, desperately swallowing, trying to find the restroom so he could empty his stomach.
Except the pressure built, and his nerves pulled tight.
The door burst open behind him. His heart flying to his throat, Daniel jumped, whirling around.
Heath was there, just inches away, his gaze locked on Daniel. “Are you okay?”
Daniel shook his head. Then he threw up all over Heath’s clean suit, his stomach heaving hard.
Somewhere in his subconsciousness, alarms went off. Daniel rode the wave of his nausea, frozen, his mind blank. If Heath wasn’t going to fire him, he definitely was now.
Heath stared at Daniel in shock, his mouth falling open.
The moment he had a moment to breathe, Daniel turned away, desperately searching for a tissue, a napkin, something to wipe the mottled colors off Heath’s shirt. “I’m sorry,” he mumbled, turning back to use his hands to scrape off the vomit. “I’m sorry, I really am. Please don’t fire me. Please—”
“Daniel.” Heath caught Daniel’s hands, squeezing them. “Daniel, look at me.”
Daniel didn’t dare look. He yanked at his hands, his instincts screaming at him to flee. “Can’t. I need to—I need—”
“Daniel.” Heath yanked him close, vomit and all, and held Daniel against his chest. “Breathe. Calm down. Close your eyes and breathe.”
He couldn’t. He struggled. He thrashed. But Daniel held him tight, his warmth soaking through Daniel’s clothes. When Heath didn’t let go, Daniel slowed in his struggling. He let himself think a little. Maybe this was okay. Maybe Heath didn’t mind the vomit.
He gulped down a deep breath, then another. His heart thumped against his ribs like it needed to escape.
“I’m breathing,” Daniel wheezed.
“Breathe more,” Heath said. “I’m not going anywhere.”
Daniel didn’t understand. But when Heath continued to hold him for long moments, and when he never once let go, Daniel relaxed a little more. Heath might not fire him right now.
He took a shaky breath, then another. Ever so slowly, his heartbeat returned to normal.
“I’m not gonna hurt you, okay?” Heath rumbled in his hair. He stroked Daniel’s back, and kissed the top of his head.
Daniel avoided his gaze. He didn’t know why Heath was doing this at all.
“Look, I’m gonna call off the presentation, and we’ll talk in my office,” Heath said. “That better?”
Daniel’s stomach clenched. “You’re going to fire me in private?”
“No.”
Daniel stared. It didn’t seem believable.
Heath brushed his lips against Daniel’s forehead. Then he released Daniel. “Stay here. I’ll be out in ten seconds.”
The air in the hallway chilled Daniel to the bone. He hugged himself, wondering what Heath was telling the roomful of people. He tried not to smell the puke on the floor. Then he imagined all those people stepping out and smelling his vomit, and panicked again.
Daniel yanked his shirt off, crouching to scrub his puke off the carpet. It didn’t work so well, but it soaked up some of the acrid moisture.
Heath is my boss. I can’t believe I slept with my boss. Again.
When the door opened, Daniel froze, looking up. Heath stared oddly at him. Then he pulled the door shut, and hauled Daniel to his feet.
“C’mon, you’re not standing here shirtless in front of everyone,” Heath growled.
He led Daniel into an elevator and hit the button for the top floor. Then the bell chimed, and the doors opened.
Daniel followed Heath weakly. He glimpsed marbled floors and more leather couches, before Heath brought him into a private bathroom.
“Clean up,” Heath said. “I’ll be waiting at my desk.”
Then he shut the door, leaving Daniel alone.
Daniel sank against the black marble wall, staring unseeingly at everything. How had he gone from a new beginning, to messing everything up, all over again?
There had been signs, he realized a while later. Heath’s expensive car. The Alpha Foods folders in his foyer, that Daniel had ignored. Gods, why didn’t I see it sooner?
In a daze, he washed up. Rinsed out his mouth, drank some water, tried to wash his stinking shirt. It ended up drenched in large swathes. Daniel tugged it back onto himself, then stepped out of the bathroom, feeling incredibly out-of-place.
Heath was at his desk in a clean suit, his lips pressed into a thin line. The moment he saw Daniel, he stood, striding over. Daniel’s stomach squeezed.
“Feel better?” Heath asked.
Daniel nodded, twisting his fingers together. It was one thing to talk to an alpha you’d slept with. A completely different thing to say hi to your boss, when you’d unknowingly slept with him. “I’m sorry about your suit. I can get it dry-cleaned—”
“Don’t worry about it.” Heath handed him a folded shirt. “This is the only other spare I have. Sorry about the size.”
Daniel stared at the shirt. And squirmed against his own drenched clothing. His shirt stuck uncomfortably to his skin. “You want me to wear this now?”
“Yes.”
Far too aware of Heath’s gaze on him, Daniel shrugged
