Clickbait

by E. J. Russell

  Gideon swallowed hard. Apparently he was a douche bag by association, just as he’d feared. “Sorry. I’ll go, then.”

  Alex grabbed his arm. “He’s not talking to you. That’s code too. Means ‘Glad you’re back.’”

  Landon raised an eyebrow. “That’s what you think.”

  “Lan, this is Gideon.”

  “I’m aware.”

  Alex patted Gideon’s back. “Don’t let him rile you. He’s the one who called to tell me you were here.”

  “Wait.” Gideon turned, which put him inside the curve of Alex’s arm. Yes! “You came downtown on purpose? For me?”

  Alex dropped his gaze. “Well . . . yeah. I know I don’t deserve another chance, but—”

  “We are definitely having words.” Gideon stepped away from Alex’s seductive warmth before he lost track of his goal. “But at this precise moment, I have a Clueless Consultant to annihilate.”

  Landon gestured for them to come inside. “Sounds like fun.”

  “I’ll try not to cause a scene in your bar.”

  “Don’t hold back on my account. It’s a slow night.” Landon led them through a storage room stacked with linens and redolent of spices. “Take that door. It leads to the hall by the restrooms. Turn right for the bar.”

  “Yes, I’m familiar with that particular hallway.” Damn Travis anyway. At least there’d be no more restroom-grabs in his own future.

  When Gideon opened the door, Alex started to follow him. Gideon put a hand on Alex’s chest. Mistake. Now he didn’t want to take it away. “Let me deal with this, okay?”

  Alex scowled. “You need someone at your back. I don’t trust that guy.”

  “Neither do I. Nobody should. But he’s my problem. Besides, he’s no bigger than I am, and if he follows his usual moping modus operandi, he’ll be halfway sloshed by this time. Advantage Wallace.”

  “Okay. Still don’t like it.”

  Gideon’s stomach fluttered up to his rib cage. He cares. There’s a chance— Later. “Trust me. I can handle Travis.” He tugged his jacket straight and tossed his bangs off his forehead. “Now watch me work.”

  He marched into the bar, where Travis was hunched on a barstool like some wilted Victorian rose, nursing a Manhattan. Gideon slapped his palm on the bar and Travis’s head jerked up.

  He glanced around wildly, clutching his glass. “G. Did you dump Jared already?”

  “Trust me. Jared was never on the table.” An image of himself on the worktable, Alex curled over him, kissing him, rough fingers trailing over his skin, caused a wash of heat up Gideon’s neck. Not helping. But, God, I want that again. “Neither were we.”

  “How can you say that? We were perfect for each other. We were like—like two minds that beat as one.”

  “You realize that makes no sense, right?” Gideon eyed the guy’s nearly empty glass. Exactly how many episodes of Travis Takes Manhattan had already played tonight?

  “But after those first two dates, you never had time for me. It was always the business.” Travis made a face that belonged in a grade school taunt-fest. “Your clients. I knew the only way I’d ever get more than a piece of you is if the business disappeared. So I made it happen.”

  “Disappeared? Wait.” Gideon waved a hand in front of Travis’s face and pointed to his own eyes. “Eyes on me. Focus. What do you mean you ‘made it happen’?”

  “You told me about your marketing strategy the night we met, remember? While you were flirting with the bartender, I checked your phone contacts. Your sales pipeline dovetailed exactly with the midtier of my company’s hot-prospect list. That’s why we’re so perfect together. Our connections . . .” He laced his fingers together. “Connect.”

  “Do you include Jared Haynes among your connections? Since he didn’t recognize you, forgive me if my confidence in your claims is a little shaky.”

  Travis snorted. “Him? He doesn’t run things. I know the decision-makers, not the figureheads.”

  Hunh. For once, Travis had said something that proved he might have a germ of intelligence. “Go on.”

  “Our firm has enormous reach in the Portland community. So when you started dodging me, I followed up on your leads.” He leaned in and winked, mouth-breathing alcohol fumes so heavy Gideon was surprised the bar candle didn’t flare up like a bonfire. “Snuffed ’em all, then made sure you’d get the Haynes contract. So you’d be working with me. I’d finally be the client.”

  Gideon held on to his fraying temper with both hands, although he was tempted to wrap them around Travis’s pencil neck instead. “You sabotaged my business to ask me out? Ever hear of a phone call? A text? A fucking message in a bottle?”

  “I tried that.” Travis’s tone was perilously close to a whine. “Except for the fucking-in-a-bottle part. You wouldn’t listen. It took this to get your attention.”

  “Didn’t you stop to think I might be more concerned about saving my company than dating?”

  “No, see, that’s the brilliant part. I’d be there to feed you new leads.”

  “You wanted to be my pipeline pimp? For pity’s sake, Travis, you’re an MBA. Magna cum laude. Not only was this an epically lame plan, but you weren’t even competent at it. God, Alex is right. Just because you’re educated doesn’t mean you’re not stupid.”

  “Alex? Who’s that? I thought you were with Charles.”

  “No.”

  “Who, then?” Travis gaped at him. “Not that guy you were slumming with the other night? Christ, Gideon, you can’t be serious. Where can you take someone like that? Imagine him at Jared’s holiday party. Do they make blue-collar tuxes?”

  “You know something, Travis? He’d look totally hot in a tux, but that’s not the point. You tried to ruin me. He helped me succeed. I may be a fickle club boy, but my IQ has never been in question. It’s over.”

  Travis grabbed his arm. “Give me another chance. A chance to win you back.”

  “God, Travis. Why would you want me back? I treated you like shit.” He’d treated everyone like shit, with his sarcasm and spite masquerading as wit and urbanity. If it weren’t for Alex, he’d still be stuck in that same arid space.

  “Please. One more date?”

  “Sorry.” He disengaged Travis’s—ewww—damp fist and smoothed the crumpled fabric of his jacket sleeve. “I’m busy.”

  “I haven’t told you when. I’m flexible.”

  “I’m busy for the rest of my life.”

  Travis staggered to his feet. “Don’t imagine you’ll get another job in Portland. I killed your prospects once. I can do it again.”

  “I don’t think so,” Alex rumbled from behind Gideon’s shoulder.

  Gideon whirled. “What are you doing here? You were supposed to wait.”

  “You told me to watch you work.”

  “Yes, but that’s just a figure of speech. I didn’t expect you to actually watch.”

  Alex shrugged. “I’m here now.”

  God, he so was: solid and warm and real. How could Gideon have ever been attracted to anyone as superficial as Jared, let alone Travis?

  Alex loomed over Travis, who cowered against the bar. “Better rethink your threats, because the trick you pulled with the HVAC? That’s vandalism, pal—your one-way ticket out of the consulting business.”

  Travis’s gaze flicked between Alex and Gideon. “You—you found that?”

  Gideon took Alex’s arm and tugged him away. “Of course he did. Because unlike you, he’s not stupid.”

  “You won’t—” The blotchy color faded from Travis’s cheeks, his Adam’s apple bobbing above the collar of his designer shirt and the knot of his three-hundred-dollar tie. “You won’t turn me in, will you?”

  “Depends,” Alex drawled. “You planning on making trouble for Gideon again?”

  “I—”

  “Because I saved that log file, and I’m ready to share it. First person I’m gonna share it with is Gideon, so watch your threats.”

  “Gideon, please.
” Travis reached for him again, but Gideon evaded his hand. “You can’t allow someone like him to ruin me.”

  “Someone like him? God, Travis, you ruined yourself. Lucky for you Alex has a kinder heart than I do. He’s giving you a chance. Are you going to keep your hands off my prospect list?”

  Travis hesitated. Unbelievable. He’s even stupider than I thought. But finally he nodded.

  “Good. Let’s go, Alex. We’ve wasted enough of our evening.”

  They left Travis moaning into his Manhattan, but instead of heading for the storeroom door, Alex pulled Gideon into the shadowed corner outside the men’s room. God, finally. A restroom-grab by someone he wanted.

  Alex planted his hands on Gideon’s shoulders and gazed down at him. “Did you mean that?”

  “Mean what?”

  “That you’re busy forever?”

  Gideon waited until a couple of women giggled their way into the women’s room. “You weren’t supposed to hear that. We’re supposed to talk.”

  “We’re talking now, and I’ve got something to say.” Alex leaned his forehead against Gideon’s. “I’m sorry. Jesus, I’m so fucking sorry.”

  “That’s . . .” Gideon clenched his fists so he wouldn’t grab Alex’s waist. “Good. A good start. But you threw me away, Alex. How do I know you won’t do it again the next time something happens with your dad? Because something will happen. You know it will.”

  “Yeah, but there’s a difference now.” Alex shifted one hand to the back of Gideon’s neck, one thumb stroking the angle of his jaw. “I don’t have to handle it on my own.”

  Gideon shivered. “You mean because Toshiko’s in the picture?”

  “No, idiot. Because you’re in the picture. Tosh helps my dad feel better. But you? You help the rest of us. Mom. Lin. Me.”

  “You? You’re sure?”

  “Especially me. I’d be ten kinds of stupid if I let you go.”

  Warmth burbled in Gideon’s chest, and he couldn’t repress a sappy grin. “And we’ve already established that you’re not stupid.”

  “Exactly.”

  Alex’s grip on the nape of Gideon’s neck tightened a smidge. Firm. Possessive. God, he loved it. He unclenched his fists and framed Alex’s face, rising on his toes for a kiss. A thorough kiss. With tongues and a little gratuitous groping action thrown in for good measure, because it had been too freaking long.

  Alex pulled back, chuckling. “Does that mean you forgive me?”

  “Let’s say you’re well on your way, but you may need to grovel periodically for the next forty years or so, in case I forget.”

  A smile bloomed on Alex’s face, bright and joyful and gorgeous. “I’ll make a note of that.” He leaned closer. “So. I’d look hot in a tux, huh?”

  Gideon smoothed Alex’s Henley over his pecs. “You’d look hotter out of one, but I’m not willing to share that particular view.”

  “Yeah? Why’s that?”

  “Because I love you, you infuriating man. Why do you think?”

  “Jesus, I thought you’d never say that. I didn’t want to be the only one.”

  Alex started to dive in for another kiss, but an aggressively well-groomed man sauntered past on his way to the restroom. He winked at them.

  “Don’t stop on my account, gentlemen. I’m enjoying the show.” He opened the door and stood back to allow a couple of teenagers to slouch out, then winked again and stepped inside.

  Alex scowled at the closing door. “Jesus, what is this? The Banfield at rush hour? I almost miss the storage room.”

  Gideon rolled his eyes. “God, no. We are so done with closets. We are out and proud, right? Together?”

  “Absolutely.”

  “Good.” He pressed a soft, secret kiss against the inside of Alex’s wrist. Alex’s fingers curled and his breath hitched. Hmmm. Good to know. Gideon chuckled.

  “What?”

  “You know, on my first night on this job, I had an epiphany. I thought I’d finally met the man of my dreams. At a fricking construction site, no less.”

  Warmth kindled in the depths of Alex’s eyes, a wicked smile curving his sinfully full lips. “Yeah?”

  “Mm-hmm.” Gideon ducked his head and peeked from underneath his bangs. “Funny thing, though. I was totally wrong.” Alex’s eyebrows bunched together, but Gideon smoothed the crease between them with a fingertip. “How could I want some joker with more fashion sense than principles, more conceit than kindness, not to mention a goddamn stupid chin toupee, when I could have you?” He pressed a soft kiss on Alex’s glorious mouth. “I’m so, so, sooo lucky that together we built a better dream.”

  Geekspeak: Conversion Rate

  Definition: The percentage of site visitors who take a specific action beyond simple browsing, such as filling out a form, scheduling an appointment, or making an online purchase.

  “You’ve got the directions, right, Dad?” Gideon rummaged in Alex’s bedroom closet for an extra roll of Scotch tape. “We’ll see you and Miki tomorrow. Dinner’s at four, but you’re welcome to show up whenever. Bye-bye.”

  He emerged from the closet in time to see what appeared to be an animated sheet of holly-sprigged wrapping paper wrestling with itself in the middle of the floor.

  “Oh no you don’t. Not again.”

  Disengaging the paper from tiny flailing orange paws, he scooped up the kitten and held him at eye level. Little Ianto mewed, blinking at him with wide green eyes. “Stop trying to look harmless and adorable. I’ve got your number. Santa will so not fill your stocking with catnip mice tonight if you don’t lay off the wrapping paper.”

  He set Ianto on the floor amid the crumpled remains of the seven other sheets of cat-shredded paper. The kitten batted at a couple of them, then suddenly arched his back, fur puffed along his spine, and bounced forward, stiff-legged.

  “It’s an empty box, you ninny, and it’s been sitting in the same spot all afternoon.”

  Apparently that didn’t matter to Ianto. He crouched, his little butt wiggling, then leaped for the top of the box.

  Unfortunately for him, the box had no lid, and he plopped into it, claws scrabbling on cardboard, before his head popped up above the box rim, a picture of feline outrage.

  Alex’s rolling laugh boomed from the doorway, and Gideon’s heart did a two-step in his chest, as it always did the first time he saw Alex after a long absence—say, anything more than five minutes.

  Alex strolled over and stuck a green bow between Ianto’s ears. The kitten mewed and shook his head. “I see he’s still helping you.”

  “We should have named him Beelzebub, not Ianto Jones. He is evil, Alex, evil.”

  “I don’t know.” Alex rescued the kitten from the box. “I think we should have named him Gideon Junior. He reminds me of you. Small. Feisty. Cute as hell.” Alex chuckled. “There, see? That look on your face is the same expression he was wearing when I walked in.”

  Gideon opted to ignore that obvious untruth. “Where’s Gwen?” When they’d adopted the two kittens from the shelter, Alex had given in to Gideon’s insistence and allowed him to name the cats after characters in Torchwood. “Maybe she can keep him occupied.”

  “She’s asleep on Mom’s shoulder again.”

  “Why does your mom rate the calm one?”

  “Maybe it’s that pattern matching you’re always on about. Lin says Ianto is your spiritual twin.”

  “Whatever.” Gideon propped his fists on his hips. “Will you look at the mess he’s made? At this rate, I’ll run out of wrapping paper before I get your dad’s gifts wrapped. He’s poked holes in almost all of it, and I don’t have time to run to the store for more before we leave for the Beeches.”

  “Dad won’t care. He usually wrapped our stuff in a patchwork of newspaper and wrapping paper scraps anyway. He thought fancy packaging was stupid.”

  “Really?”

  “Yeah. Kinda hard to disguise a bicycle, no matter how much newspaper you wad around it, so his gifts were never
much of a surprise. That’s why he didn’t put his presents out until Christmas morning—to keep the mystery going. Lin and I spent most of December searching the house, the garage, the attic, trying to find the secrets, but we never did. I think he used to store everything at Manny’s house.”

  “In that case . . .”

  Gideon plucked Ianto out of Alex’s arms, and plunked him in the middle of the last sheet of wrapping paper. Instead of attacking it in a frenzy, as he’d been doing all afternoon, Ianto flopped over on his side and started grooming his paw.

  “Oh fine. Now he calms down.”

  Alex chuckled. “I think that’s the kitten version of ‘My work here is done.’”

  “My work, on the other hand, is just beginning.” Gideon hooked his fingers in Alex’s belt loops and pulled him forward, snugging their hips together, and tilted his head for Alex’s kiss.

  Alex didn’t disappoint. But then, he never did.

  When they finally disengaged, he snuggled against Alex’s chest and sighed.

  Alex’s chest rumbled with laughter. He stroked Gideon’s hair. “You purr as loud as Ianto.”

  “That’s because I’m happy.”

  Alex’s hand stalled. “After the holidays, when you move in here, things’ll be different. You gonna be okay with that?”

  Gideon pulled back so he could meet Alex’s worried gaze. “Things are already different, but that doesn’t mean they’re bad. With your dad settled and content at the Beeches, your mom is a lot less stressed. So are you.”

  “You have a lot to do with that.” Alex kissed him again, slow, hot, and sweet. “Dad’s happier there than I thought he’d be. I never stopped to think how boring it must have been for him here.”

  “Everyone’s happier except Lin. I think she still believes your father can get well if we try hard enough.”

  Alex sighed. “Yeah. I don’t know what to do about that.”

  “I’ve been thinking.” Gideon bit his lip. “I’m totally on board with moving here, especially after all the awesome remodeling work you’ve done. But . . .”

  “Second thoughts?”

  “Not about you or, you know, us.” Gideon pressed a quick kiss to Alex’s chin. “About our living arrangements. I get that you don’t want your mom to be alone, but I don’t think Lin should be either.”