Real or Not

by Tymber Dalton

  Fuck it. He could fake it as well as the next guy. Maybe his Wi-Fi would be better downstairs and allow him to do more research.

  Or I could just ask Ausar.

  Now there was a guy he wouldn’t mind doing. Sexy green eyes and a British accent, he struck Brett as the kind of guy who looked harmless enough but was probably a freak in the sack.

  Then again, he hadn’t done any guys since Kodie.

  Hadn’t had the heart to, despite attempting to date a few times.

  Thus, he’d stuck to women, fantasizing about Kodie if he ended up sleeping with them.

  Always Kodie.

  Which was why he could never bring himself to sleep with another guy.

  * * * *

  Once Brett was dressed in his tux and ready to head downstairs, he texted Ryan Ausar.

  Do you have a couple of minutes to talk real fast before this starts?

  He wasn’t expecting such a swift reply.

  Certainly. I’m in room 604.

  Which was a shocker, because he was in room 625.

  I’ll be right over—we’re on the same floor.

  A moment later, he was knocking on the door, and Ausar opened it with a smile. “There you are. Did they send you the information?”

  “Well, that’s what I wanted to talk about. It’s…lacking in details.” He glanced around at the room, which literally looked untouched since housekeeping had made it up. “Wow. You go for minimalism, huh? I bring nothing more than a garment bag and a carryon, and it looks like a suitcase exploded in my room.”

  Ausar smiled. “I like to keep things tidy. Now, how is the information lacking?”

  Brett was having a difficult time concentrating on what Ausar said, because the guy looked fucking a-MAY-zing in a tux.

  “Oh. Well, for starters, I don’t even know the guy’s name, or have a picture of him to go by. Kind of important I know who the client is before I meet him, right?”

  “My apologies. I think you’ll enjoy Linc, charming man, quite skilled.”

  “Link?”

  “With a C. Short for Lincoln.” For some reason, that rang a bell with him, but then Ausar glanced at a wristwatch Brett would’ve swore wasn’t on the man’s wrist when he answered the door a moment ago. “My dear, look at the time. Let’s get downstairs, and I’ll find him and introduce you to him properly, hmm?”

  “Uh, sure. That’ll work.”

  Brett bit back his frustration at not having more info on the guy beforehand. He hated getting caught flat-footed like this, although the excuse that he was coming to the project late—and why—worked in his favor. Who could be pissed off that a guy’s wife went into premature labor?

  * * * *

  “Does it look okay?” Linc held the phone up to the full-length mirror to allow Avery to see his reflection in the FaceTime window.

  “You look great, dude. Knock ’em dead down there.”

  “What about my tie?” He leaned close to the mirror so she could see it in the phone.

  “It’s fine. Stop stressing. Did you put on deodorant?”

  “If you could smell me, you wouldn’t be asking that. I used about half a stick.”

  “You didn’t put any body spray on or anything like that, did you?”

  He shot her a glare. “When have I ever used that crap?”

  “Just asking. You’re good to go, honey. Seriously. Take a deep breath, don’t forget to breathe, and stick to tea and soda. You’ll slay.”

  “I wish you and the others were here with me. The show’s about you all as much as it is about me.”

  “Bullshit, it is. It’s about you and the stuff you create, and that’s the way it should be. Tonight’s about you, just like the other shows, they’ll only have the main person there. Go on and get some food in your stomach, and try to have fun. This is the start of something huge. Something good.”

  “Thanks.”

  Once the call ended, he studied his reflection in the mirror again, then snapped a couple of selfies, the way Opal had chastised him to do. He was supposed to get a few “candid” photos, including selfies, that she could post to his social media accounts.

  Then he grabbed his name badge for the event, which would get him in, along with the wristband that would allow him unlimited access to food and beverages as one of the network’s VIPs.

  Here we go.

  He had to wait for the elevator, because his room was up on the fourteenth floor.

  Start of something huge. Something good.

  He tried to keep Avery’s words in his mind as he rode downstairs and made his way through the lobby and over to the hotel’s conference and ballroom area. A woman with a tablet verified his name badge by scanning a barcode on the back of it that he hadn’t even realized was there, before she smiled.

  “Thank you, Mr. Kirk. Ryan Ausar said to please find him in the Osprey Room. He’s awaiting you there.”

  “Thanks.” Meanwhile, he tried not to get tongue-tied when he spotted a group of men, along with a woman, who he recognized from the network’s Otherworlds ghost-hunting show.

  Holy crap!

  Unable to help himself, and feeling like a damn idiot, he hurried up to them while they were gathered around the woman, Kal, who was the show’s producer, as well as married to Will Hellenboek, the star of the show. They were all looking at a program of the evening’s events. He’d received one, too, in his check-in package, but he’d forgotten it up in his room.

  “Um, hi. I’m so sorry, but I love your show! Can I get a quick selfie with y’all?”

  They all exchanged what he would have labelled a knowing smirk, if he really knew them. “Sure,” Kal said with a smile. “We’d be happy to. Kodie, isn’t it? Ryan told us about your show. Our production team will be working with you a lot.”

  He blushed that she actually knew his name! “Um, yeah, but I go by Lincoln, my middle name. Linc. I’ve been watching y’all ever since season one. I can’t believe I’m going to be in a TV show, much less on the same network with you!”

  “Believe it,” Will said, smiling. “And try to enjoy it. Ryan’s usually an angel to work for.”

  Linc wasn’t sure why they all chuckled, but he didn’t get the impression it was at his expense. After a series of selfies with all of them, he was glancing through the pictures when he realized he was supposed to be meeting Ryan Ausar in one of the rooms, and hurried down the corridor to find it.

  He located the room after a few minutes, but it was full of people and he nearly turned around and bolted for the door. He wasn’t used to this.

  At all.

  Easing his way around the periphery, he tried to spot the man and didn’t. Just when he was seriously about to give up, he heard the man speak behind him.

  “Ah, there he is. Lincoln, I’d like to introduce you to someone.”

  He turned and froze as his gaze locked with someone he never seriously expected to see again in his life.

  Holy shit.

  Despite the years, and the sexy-as-fuck goatee and mustache the man wore, he’d know Him anywhere. Those intense brown eyes, the dark blond hair that was almost brown and just a shade or two lighter than his own short, light brown hair.

  He’d spent countless hours worshipping the man’s body, kneeling at his feet, and taking his pain. How could he not know Him?

  “Hey, Kode,” Brett softly said.

  * * * *

  Brett was torn between wanting to laugh and wanting to cry. When they’d approached the guy from behind, he’d thought okay, gorgeous guy to look at, definitely. Huge, broad shoulders tapering down to what looked like a nice, tight ass.

  Then the man had turned around, and Brett realized this guy who now towered a good five inches over him was his boy.

  His.

  Ryan cocked his head as he studied them. “Ah, do you know each other, then?”

  A server walked up to them with a tray full of wine goblets, and Brett watched as Kodie grabbed one and downed half of it in two gulps.
/>   “We do,” Brett said, not wanting to commit to more than that, since he possessed no knowledge of the situation beyond the basics.

  Hell, he didn’t even know if Kodie was single or not, or if he was out to the network guy.

  “Excellent,” Ryan said. “Then I’ll leave you two to it. Oh, and I meant to tell both of you, there’s been a scheduling change. Sorry about the short notice, but we’re going to have a production crew up in Brooksville starting on Monday afternoon, and running through next week, and I want them to film some B-roll footage of the shop this coming week, along with shots of the bike in progress.”

  “Monday?” both of them asked in unison, but then Brett took over while Kodie finished emptying his wine glass and waved down that server for another.

  “We can do that,” Brett said. “No problem.”

  Kodie finally nodded, once he had a replacement wine in hand.

  “Wonderful. I’ll check in with you later.” Ausar headed off to go talk to someone else, leaving Kodie glaring at Brett.

  And so much for Brett even being able to drink tonight to help him through this. He wouldn’t leave Kodie spinning in the wind when he sensed this was hitting his boy as hard as it was hitting him.

  He didn’t even know what to say to Kodie.

  “I’m sorry,” he whispered, but that drew a sullen glare from Kodie.

  “You have no idea what I’ve been through,” Kodie finally said, glancing around and keeping his voice down.

  “I can work with you, Kode, but I need to know if you can work with me.”

  “For starters, I go by Lincoln, or Linc.” Then he frowned. “I don’t go by Kodie anymore, or Kode. I wonder how she knew that, anyway.”

  “What? Who knew what?”

  “Never mind.” Kodie took another swallow of wine. “Ryan Ausar told me on Monday he was bringing in PR. Why didn’t you contact me before now? Wanted some big reveal?” The sharp bitterness in his tone sliced through Brett.

  “I’m sorry. I really didn’t know it was you specifically before now. I was brought in at the last minute when our other guy had to take emergency family leave. No one told me it was you, or believe me, I would have.”

  They called for people to start moving into another room for the buffet. “Let’s go get something to eat, huh?” He started to reach for Kodie’s elbow, but the man jerked away.

  Brett struggled not to drag him out of the room, upstairs, and into his room.

  Where they’d be alone and he could apologize.

  And then kiss him.

  And…more.

  A lot more.

  “Please, after we’re done here tonight, let’s go upstairs and talk. Alone.”

  “I’m not promising you anything,” Kodie said.

  “Fair enough, but you didn’t answer my question—can you work with me? Ryan Ausar specifically asked me to take over this project once it had to be handed off.”

  He held his breath until Kodie nodded. “Yeah, fine. Whatever.”

  Dammit.

  He desperately wanted to spank that attitude out of him, and then lick every mark on his ass and soothe the pain away.

  I have got to be careful.

  He also needed to get some food into Kodie before the alcohol hit him too hard. Meanwhile, he needed to distract him while they stood in line for the buffet. “How’d you get into motorcycles?”

  He wasn’t sure Kodie was going to answer him at first. “Friend of mine was into motorbikes. Took me up to Croom one weekend and we rode. I really loved it, but couldn’t afford to do it on my own. I ended up working for a guy in Sarasota who worked on dirt bikes, quads, ATVs, and some motorcycles. Then, later, met a guy up in Brooksville, who had a motorcycle shop and needed help. I moved there, which put me near the park. Opened my own shop when that guy ended up retiring.”

  “What is Croom?”

  “Motorcycle park in a state forest. Corner of 75 and State Road 50, just outside Brooksville. I have a place a few minutes from there. North of Tampa.”

  Brett said what he felt, not really thinking it through first. “I’m proud of you.”

  Storm clouds filled Kodie’s expression. “Not looking for your approval. I don’t need it. Not like some people need approval, I guess.”

  He deserved that shot, and he knew it. “Sorry.”

  Kodie finished his wine. “Hope it was worth it,” he muttered.

  “What?”

  “Nothing.” But the challenge that flashed through his eyes as he met and held Brett’s gaze, briefly, before looking away, made Brett’s cock throb.

  I’m sooooo fucked.

  Chapter Five

  By nine, despite the shindig barely starting to kick it into second gear by Miami party-scene standards, Brett knew Kodie was done.

  Lincoln, he reminded himself.

  The guy had already pounded back several drinks, during and after dinner, while Brett watched from a safe distance, but still close enough to listen to him and keep an eye on him. Despite Kodie’s huge frame, Brett saw the alcohol now hitting him hard. Maybe no one else noticed it, but Brett did.

  There was a time he could have practically read his boy’s mind just from watching and listening to him while he talked to someone else, and it scared him in many ways to see how strongly that connection still burned between them.

  At least, it did on his end of things. It seemed Kodie was able to ignore him just fine, other than the dark glares he occasionally sent Brett’s way.

  I never should have left him.

  That resigned mental whisper bore the strength of reinforced concrete as it settled dead-center in Brett’s mind.

  Everything that was wrong and lacking in his life, things he’d desperately chased in an attempt to not let his past have time to catch up with him, stepped out of the shadows of his brain and stared at him with sullen accusations.

  Kodie.

  Kodie was his world, and he’d been an idiot to think he could run on his father’s hamster wheel and ever hope to be happy.

  It was impossible to escape something when you helplessly spun your gears without really going anywhere.

  His heart had always been here, with this man, and had never left him.

  Now Kodie—Lincoln, goddammit, that was going to be difficult—was working on the latest of several cocktails. Circling around behind Lincoln, Brett edged his way over to where the man he’d always think of as his boy stood talking to a guy who was heading up a new wilderness survival show on the network. Anders Kophlin, or something like that, Brett thought his name was. Blond and blue-eyed and slenderly muscular, but obviously in shape, the man had a sort of sexy Viking vibe going on, with an even sexier accent to match.

  And it shocked Brett when, upon realizing the very hunky and handsome Anders was blatantly hitting on Kodie, a wave of utter possessive rage washed through him, and he caught himself starting to make a fist before he relaxed his hand.

  He slipped into the space to Kodie’s right—okay, goddammit, he’d stay Kodie in his mind as long as he remembered to address him as Lincoln around others—and his left hand closed around the larger man’s right elbow. Kodie still had half a drink left. Looked like cranberry juice and vodka, of which he’d already had at least three, on top of wine, and a couple of fingers of something that looked like bourbon or scotch on ice.

  Brett leaned in. “Time to leave, buddy,” he whispered, reaching over with his right hand to take the glass from him.

  Kodie glanced down at him, realized who was speaking to him, and jerked his arm free—

  Which sent the remains of his very red drink down the front of his very white dress shirt.

  Shit.

  “Goddammit,” Kodie muttered. He set his glass down as Anders waved over a server, who passed him a bar towel and he started trying to blot the stain off Kodie’s shirt for him.

  Brett barely restrained himself from yanking the towel out of the guy’s hand and doing it himself.

  Lincoln shrugged off his jack
et. Anders reached for it, but Brett snatched it from him. “Thanks, but I’ve got this,” Brett said, forcing a smile.

  “You caused this.” Kodie’s voice sounded low and full of anger, and it shocked Brett when his own cock hardened in his slacks.

  That was a tone Brett would have taken great pleasure in beating out of his boy—before.

  Sometimes, he’d even suspected Kodie deliberately goaded him into punishment by talking to him like that. He had no proof of that, except that Kodie’s cock was always hard when he got feisty with Brett, as if he anticipated and welcomed taking Brett’s belt across his ass for challenging him.

  Along with a whole host of other fucked up things they’d done with and to each other during their years together.

  Kodie ended up clawing his bowtie off and shoving it in the pocket of his slacks before he unbuttoned his cuffs and the top two shirt buttons, and then peeled the shirt off over his head.

  Brett’s throat went dry. His boy had definitely grown up, no doubt about that. He wasn’t just tall and broad-shouldered—he was fucking ripped.

  And he spotted the hungry desire painted across Anders’ face, too, when Kodie shoved the shirt at him and then snatched his jacket back from Brett’s now slack fingers and slipped it on.

  Brett was now also painfully aware of how many women—and more than a few men—were devouring his boy’s broad shoulders, sculpted bare chest, and decadent abs with their eyes.

  “Thanks,” Kodie said to Anders, taking the shirt back from the Viking.

  Brett shook himself out of the temporary oxygen deprivation his brain suffered when all the blood in his body had raced to his cock. He once again grabbed Kodie’s elbow with one hand and took the shirt from him with the other.

  “Let’s go,” Brett said.

  Except Kodie didn’t move, and trying to tug on him was like trying to pull a tree out at the roots with his bare hands. “I want another drink, asshole. You just spilled mine.”

  Fortunately, Kodie was either angry enough or just sober enough to remember to keep his voice down.