Learned Behaviors (Higher Education)

by Jayce Ellis

  He couldn’t say all—half—that, so he shrugged. “Our daughters are friends.” Dollars to donuts they were more than that. “We get along okay, and you’ll mess around and forget to get something.” Get along okay. Like he wasn’t spending every night and more than a few times during the day fantasizing about this man.

  Matt’s shoulders shook and he smiled, his head dipping. God, he was beautiful. All warm brown skin and that full mouth and the way he was getting just a touch of gray around the edges. Tall, slim, commanding, in ways that shouldn’t stir Jaq but absolutely did. Still, Matt looked apprehensive. Was it the thought of being alone with Jaq that made him cautious? Because the same idea made Jaq want to throw that caution to the wind. “You know I can do this online?” Matt said, pointing down the hall where Jaq was sure his laptop was still up and going.

  Jaq huffed. “And I know you won’t. Besides, as tactile as you are, you think you’re going to be satisfied with some pictures to make this decision?” Matt had demanded swatches of everything, even the designs they’d dismissed. Jaq had wanted to scream, but he understood now more than ever why everything Matt brought to market was a hit. His attention to detail was obnoxiously thorough.

  Matt stood and grabbed his jacket. “You’re right. Okay then, following you.”

  They were quiet in the elevator and to their cars, and Jaq forced himself to think of something other than Matt’s closeness. How he could feel the heat emanating from him. How much he wanted this time with Matt, had paced his own office brainstorming how to get it. The entire team had worked seventy-hour weeks for almost a month to get designs drawn and approved and were waiting on samples to review before sending them to Bernhardt for production. Matt, Jaq, and Patti had often put in an extra ten to fifteen. They deserved an hour off, fully uninterrupted.

  Jaq pulled into the mall parking lot, a winding behemoth that was full except for the rooftop, and checked his rearview mirror. Matt was behind him, and they found adjoining spots a short distance from the walkway. This high up, the wind swirled around them in a way it didn’t at street level, and he shivered.

  “Come on,” he said, “mall closes in thirty.”

  Matt nodded and they bustled inside, Jaq breaking right and clipping down the hallway, Matt on his heels. He stopped just inside the entrance and Jaq turned. “What’s wrong?”

  Matt snorted and started walking again. “I’ve worked for Bernhardt in some capacity for over twenty years, and I can count on my hands the number of times I’ve set foot in an actual store. I don’t even know where to go.”

  Jaq clamped an arm around Matt’s elbow and pointed. “Let me give you the grand tour. We’re in a section known as home goods. Here, you’ll find mattresses, bedding, and decorative items such as throw pillows and rugs. As we move forward—”

  Matt disengaged and shoved him into the aisle, laughing. “Shut up. I’ve been to a damn mall before.”

  Jaq chortled and clutched his stomach. When he finally looked up, Matt was sitting on the edge of the model bed, his elbows on his knees, hands hanging between his legs. He was positively sinful like that, watching him with undisguised lust. The first overt display Jaq had seen.

  He returned it with one of his own, crossing the space and tilting Matt’s chin up. Jaq ran a thumb across Matt’s lower lip, then trailed along his jaw and down his neck. His stomach clenched, in anticipation and desire and just enough fear to keep Jaq from leaning down and kissing Matt the way he really wanted.

  Matt didn’t move, didn’t protest. He stood, his six-foot-two frame feeling towering this close. Matt’s breath ghosted across Jaq’s face and he grunted, his breath stuttering out of him. Matt chuckled, the low, rumbling sound sending chills down Jaq’s arms, then dipped his head to Jaq’s.

  “Let’s find a present.” He broke off, a soft smirk on his face, and walked away. Jackass.

  They walked down the aisle and around the corner, before Jaq pulled to a stop at a kiosk. “We should be able to pull their registry list here.” He typed in the names, found it, and grabbed a scanner. “Let’s go. When you find a gift, you can use this—” he held up the scanner “—and it’ll take it off the registry.”

  “You know a lot about this.”

  Jaq shrugged. “My mom went to a lot of weddings when I was younger. Dragged me along for a while trying to hook me up with the single men.”

  Matt snorted and looked at him with wide eyes. “It work?”

  “Absolutely not. Got some good lays out of it, but mostly on the curiosity tip.”

  Matt huffed and took the list from Jaq. It took him a second to respond, and when he did, it was all business. “I want to get them something good.” He gnawed on his lip, his shoulders stiff, and Jaq wondered what the hell was going through his mind. “What do you think?” he asked, handing it back to Jaq.

  He scanned the items and grinned. He’d be good for now. “Waterford Crystal. They’ve asked for a decanter and some tumblers. Do that.” He handed the scanner back to Matt, who stared at it.

  “That’s not cheap.”

  “Man, you work here. They’re going to assume you get a discount. Hell, you should probably get the Waterford and the Lenox, but I can’t call it.”

  Matt glanced at him, then the list, then back at him. “My ex would love you,” he muttered, but there was no disdain in his voice. If anything, he looked amused, and Jaq liked that look on him.

  “Shoppers, the mall is closing in fifteen minutes. Please finalize your purchases now. Thank you for choosing Bernhardt.”

  “Come on,” he said, “let’s get this and get out of here.”

  They walked around the floor until they reached the kitchenware section, and he smirked when Matt got the decanter, tumblers, and the silverware, then had them wrapped. The decanter and tumbler set really was gorgeous, with crisscross striations and the heavy weight imparting a decadence Jaq didn’t often see. The silverware was simple, but it was a large enough set they shouldn’t have to worry about replacing it, maybe ever. Matt carried the wrapped boxes gingerly to the parking lot just after the announcer’s five-minute warning, and there was only one other car in the vicinity, probably an employee.

  Matt got the bags situated, then stood and turned. The desire that had been temporarily banked roared back to life, a combination of weeks of biting politeness, seeing how lost Matt had been with Angela and actually feeling bad for him, and this—the way Matt looked at him in the store and now, the way he teased and made Jaq wait. A breeze gusted through and Jaq shivered, running his hands up and down his arms.

  “Cold?” Matt asked.

  He shrugged. He wasn’t, but he didn’t argue when Matt stepped forward, blocking off some of the wind. “JaQuan,” he whispered, and the ghosting of his breath across Jaq’s lips, the way Matt paused like he was waiting for permission, was more than Jaq could handle.

  He wrapped a hand around the back of Matt’s neck and pulled him close, pausing when their lips were barely touching. Matt closed the distance and fused their lips together, cupping Jaq’s face in his hands and taking the lead.

  He grunted and sank into the contact. Yes. That was what he needed, to be handled, controlled, comfortable enough to let someone else take charge so he could just...feel. He started to tighten his fists against Matt’s shirt but stopped, unsure if he’d welcome it.

  “Stop thinking so much,” Matt rasped out, breaking apart just long enough to bite Jaq’s lower lip before soothing it with his tongue and plunging back in.

  Jaq hummed at the words, letting his hands snake around to knead the muscles that rippled under Matt’s dress shirt. He traveled down to Matt’s belt loop and pulled him in, anxious to feel Matt’s erection against his own. Matt tipped his head up and took biting nips down his jaw and the side of his neck. His hands found the back of Jaq’s pants and squeezed firmly, inching closer to that place where Jaq needed him.

&
nbsp; A loud giggle and muffled cough broke them apart, and Jaq craned his head over the hood of the car. A couple of teenagers walked out toward the other car and didn’t appear to notice them.

  Matt paid them no mind, switching from bites to licks as he soothed the area at the hollow of his neck. “Matt,” Jaq muttered, torn between breaking apart and wanting more.

  “Hmm?”

  “We need to stop.”

  Matt did, and he was honestly a little thrown by the abruptness. “Why?”

  “Because,” Jaq managed, waving his hand, “we’re still in public.”

  Matt paused, closed his eyes, and nodded. “Yeah. Yeah, you’re right.” He stepped back and ran a hand down his face. “This isn’t the time or place.”

  Jaq adjusted himself boldly, not missing how Matt’s eyes heated at the sight. “I can’t wait to get to the right time and place.”

  The slyest grin tugged at Matt’s lips. “Same, but not tonight. Tonight I’m going to thank you for making sure I don’t show up empty-handed, and for helping me get out of my head a bit.”

  Jaq wanted to argue. One good look at Matt, though, and he knew the anticipation would be worth it. “My pleasure.”

  Matt ran a hand down his cheek. “We good at work?”

  “For sure.”

  Matt leaned in for one more searing kiss, then broke off and climbed in his car. Jaq walked around to his, and followed Matt out of the garage.

  Chapter Eight

  Matt knew he was overreacting. There was—had to be—a perfectly reasonable explanation why JaQuan hadn’t shown up for work in five days. Technically three because of the weekend, but he’d gotten used to seeing him at the office even then. Still, he hadn’t seen Jaq since that night at the mall, and he was at the very edge of his patience.

  He was trying, and failing, to go through some emails in advance of his weekly phone call with Nichole when the door burst open. By this point he should’ve been used to Patti barging in whenever she felt like it, but the sharp retort bubbled up in his throat before he could stop it. “Would it kill you to knock?”

  She pulled up short, then burst out laughing, her silver-gray curls framing her face and adding an innocence he knew was fake. “Oh my. You are so like a lion right now. All fierce and growly. Do you need a little mouse to pull a splinter out of your thorn?”

  Matt stopped. And stared. “What...are you talking about?”

  And she rolled her eyes. “Please, spare me. I see how you and Jaq are with each other. Or rather,” she said, closing the door and making herself comfortable in the chair, “I see how Jaq is with you.”

  That...made no sense. The connection between his perceived behavior and Patti’s remark would have to remain clear to her alone. That said, he’d assumed she’d been oblivious to their interactions, as deep as she’d been in finalizing product design.

  “What do you mean?” A lump lodged itself in Matt’s throat, and his heart began to thump. As much as he’d wanted Jaq before, he’d thought they were pretty good about hiding their desires to the public.

  Her gaze turned shrewd, like she could see into the very heart of him. “Jaq is the kindest, most fun-loving person I know. Everyone here loves him, and he loves being hands-on with everyone.”

  “And this means what, exactly?”

  “He’s not the same with you. He doesn’t look at you as another colleague, and he doesn’t treat you like one. He confronts you on one end and tiptoes around you on the other. He’s both removed and...not.”

  Matt’s body tightened at how not removed he wanted Jaq to be. “I’m not following. What are you trying to say?” He knew. He knew and he didn’t want to admit how incapable he’d been of hiding his reaction to Jaq.

  She rolled her eyes and stood. “I’m saying JaQuan might kill me for this, and I’ll hold you personally responsible if Ms. Reynolds yells at me. Here,” she said, scribbling something on a piece of paper and setting it on Matt’s desk. Patricia walked to the door and held a hand on the knob, her face morphing into an impish grin. “Take care of him, and have fun.” She disappeared with a little laugh and a wave.

  Matt looked at the torn sheet of paper in his hand. An address and phone number, assuredly Jaq’s. He should call. Text. Just check to make sure he was okay. But the thought made him itchy. Matt needed to lay eyes on him, to see him and see his response when they were near each other again. To make sure that night wasn’t a fluke or, worse, a fever dream he’d somehow hallucinated.

  It was a bad idea. It didn’t stop him from packing his bags and hurrying to the elevator, ignoring the knowing smirk and not-so-subtle wink Patricia gave him as he passed. The drive wasn’t too long, only fifteen minutes in the evening, but Matt had learned enough about DC traffic to know the morning was probably closer to forty.

  He pulled up to the row home and looked around. It was a neat, well-maintained neighborhood. Across the street, a group of young men lounged on the front steps, passing a joint between them. One stood when Matt climbed out the car, but sat down when Matt nodded at him. It was good to see them looking out for the neighborhood.

  Matt forced himself to walk up the steps and not break into a sprint like his brain demanded. He rang the doorbell and waited. Nothing. But he recognized Jaq’s car, so he rang again. The footsteps sounded annoyed as they slapped toward the door and Matt’s mouth tugged at his cheeks.

  “Who is it?” The muffled feminine voice filtered through.

  Matt cleared his throat. “My name is Matthew Donaldson. I work with JaQuan.”

  The locks disengaged and a woman he assumed was Jaq’s mom peered at him through the chain-link latch. “Why are you here? I don’t recognize you.”

  Good question. “Jaq hasn’t been at the office for a few days. I wanted to check on him.”

  She narrowed her eyes at him. “You check on all your coworkers when they don’t show up?”

  He definitely should have called. “No, ma’am, I don’t.”

  She frowned, shut the door, and unlatched the chain before pulling it open. “Come in, then.”

  Matt stepped inside and looked around. Jaq’s home was...homey, in the best way possible. A leather sectional in the corner, what looked like a family heirloom rug under the coffee table. The TV was an older model and a cracked leather chair sat across from it with a crumpled throw covering it and a pair of slides in front.

  “I’m Vonetta Reynolds,” she said, holding her hand out to shake. Matt did, and she continued. “You must be that guy from Bernhardt. I’d know if there was another Black guy at the place.”

  He huffed. He wasn’t touching that one. “Yes, ma’am.”

  “What do you want with my boy? He’s not feeling good and if it’s a problem at the office, I’m not waking him for that. Patricia can go a few days without him.”

  He wanted to laugh. That sounded like something Jaq would say. “There’s nothing wrong at the office.”

  “So...what? You just missed him?” Her voice had taken on a teasing tone, but her eyes were still wary. Maternal.

  Fucking hell. Matt knew Jaq lived with his mom, had even been mildly reminded of it by Patti, but he’d driven here wanting nothing more than to drive Jaq into the nearest surface and remind him why he shouldn’t stay away. He hadn’t had to meet parents in over twenty-five years and felt just as lost as when he’d been a pimple-faced teen picking Kennie up to go to a movie.

  “You’re worried about my son. Interesting.” She turned and started walking down a hallway that had to lead to the bedrooms. “Have a seat,” she said, gesturing to the couch. “I’ll see if he’s up.”

  “Yes, ma’am.” She disappeared and he collapsed on the worn cushion.

  What had possessed him to come here? They’d shared one kiss, one that knocked his socks off, sure, but he had no business showing up here like this. He leaned back, moaning when
it gave way, unlike the one at the apartment, and closed his eyes. He was so damn tired, and this was the closest he’d felt to home in weeks. If he hadn’t had Spitfire to get back to, he could easily pass out right here.

  “They got you working as hard as him.” Vonetta sat next to him and ran a hand over his forehead. Both of his parents were gone, and he couldn’t remember the last time someone had touched him with such affection. “He’s up,” she said. “Go on and see him, then come back out and I’ll fix you a plate.”

  “There’s no need for that,” he protested, sitting up.

  “I venture it’s been a while since you’ve had a home-cooked meal. It’s not a bother. Go on back,” she repeated.

  He wasn’t going to argue twice. Matt followed her to the back and she pushed open the door, then closed it behind him. Jaq lay there, his eyes open, watching him with a mix of confusion and sheer joy.

  “Hey,” Jaq said, his voice hoarse and a little croaky.

  Matt crossed the room and sat next to him on the queen-size bed, then poured him a glass of water from the pitcher sitting on the nightstand. He handed it to Jaq, who drank the whole thing before giving it back.

  “What happened?” he asked after setting it back down.

  “Don’t know. Caught some bug or something, ended up with a fever and have barely been able to keep food down. Feel like shit.”

  Damn. He hadn’t really believed that Jaq was avoiding him, but seeing him like this, small and almost vulnerable, stirred something in him. He’d considered that maybe he and Jaq could have a fling, something short-term that lasted until the project launched and he headed back down to Fredericksburg, but between Parents Weekend and seeing him like this? There was nothing casual about the tightening in his chest at the idea he’d been sick, and he couldn’t remember the last time he’d felt this way.