Puzzle by Nora Phoenix

28

Without looking, Ryder reached for his coffee while triple-checking the numbers in front of him. Was he certain he’d included everything? He had to submit this to Legal in—he checked his watch—twenty-two minutes. No pressure.

He took a sip, then frowned in surprise. Huh? He was damn sure his coffee had been cold mere minutes ago. No wonder, since he’d been glued to his screen for at least a few hours. So how was it possible the liquid was now warm again?

He looked up. Branson was standing in his office, leaning against the wall with a big smile on his face. “I put it there minutes ago. I was wondering how long it would take you to notice.”

Ryder sighed, then took another sip of his coffee. “And what’s the verdict?”

“Six minutes and thirteen seconds.”

“You’ve been standing there for six minutes and thirteen seconds?”

“Yup.”

Ryder shrugged. “I take after my dad, who also has hyper concentration. It once took him twenty minutes to realize my mom was standing in the room, waiting for him to notice her.”

Branson whistled. “She must’ve been upset.”

“Not really. I think by then, she was more curious than anything else. But it did become a kind of legendary moment.”

Branson chuckled. “I can imagine.”

“Anyway, thanks for the fresh coffee. Much appreciated. Anything I can do for you?”

“Just wanted to check in and make sure you were good for the deadline with Legal.”

Ryder nodded, turning back to his screen. “I was running a last review, but I think I’ve got it.”

After the decision to go after Kingmakers and the four defense contractors for tax fraud and illegal campaign contributions, things had moved fast. The FBI and the US Attorney’s Office had worked around the clock to switch gears and prepare the grand jury for a different case. That session would take place on Monday, and everyone had received detailed instructions on what information to submit so the picture would be complete and irrefutable. Ryder and Corey had been charged with detailing all the financial evidence they had so far.

None of this was new. They’d been building their evidence from the get-go, always anticipating the moment when they’d have to convince a judge. But the focus had shifted for now, plus the process had been accelerated, so they’d had to recheck everything. This case was too important to fuck up even the smallest detail.

“Give me five more minutes,” he told Branson, already running down the last lines of his Excel sheet.

“Sure.”

Ryder read through the numbers one more time. He couldn’t explain how it worked in his brain, but he’d once described it to his father as a built-in computer that automatically checked numbers. They ran through his head like they were projected on his mental screen, and if something was off, the screen froze. But nothing popped up this time, and when he had assured himself of that, he hit Send on the document and let out a long sigh.

When he turned around, Branson sat on the floor, leaning with his back against the wall as he flipped through his phone. As soon as Ryder turned his chair, he looked up. “Done?”

“Yeah. Thanks for waiting.” He cocked his head. “Why were you waiting for me, actually? If you only wanted to ensure I would make the deadline, my answer would’ve been enough, no?”

Branson smiled. “Sure, but I was done anyway, so I figured I might as well kill time here.”

“Not ready to go home?” A quick check on the clock showed it was almost nine p.m.

“Not really. I’m so pumped up I wouldn’t even know what to do with myself. Knowing what’s going to happen on Monday, that years of work are going to culminate in the first legal actions, even if they’re only the precursor to the real event, I could never fall asleep.”

Ryder finished his coffee, then lowered himself on the floor next to Branson. “Have you ever seen that movie Gladiator, with Russell Crowe playing Maximus?” Ryder asked.

Branson nodded.

“It reminds me of that opening scene, where the Roman army lines up for the final battle. They’re trained, battle-hardened, and ready. Maximus inspects the troops, and once he’s satisfied, he tells them, ‘On my signal, unleash hell.’ That’s what it feels like, like we’ve done everything we could to prepare…and now we’re waiting for the signal to unleash hell.”

“I like that comparison. There’s this anticipation now as if we’re expecting war to break out.”

They sat shoulder to shoulder. “When this is all over, I’m going to take a leave of absence,” Branson said.

Ryder looked at him sideways. “To do what?”

“To find myself. I’ve had a few long hard looks in the mirror, and I didn’t like what I saw. I need some time to decompress and discover who I am.”

“I feel like I should say sorry again, though I don’t know what I’d be apologizing for.”

Branson bumped his shoulder. “No need at all. It’s the best thing that could’ve ever happened to me.”

“Why?”

“If you hadn’t said anything, I would’ve kept on pretending and putting on a mask for years to come, probably never developing true friendships…or a relationship.”

Branson had dropped that word several times now. “That’s something you long for, isn’t it?”

“A relationship? Yes.”

“Why?”

Branson was quiet for a long time. “Because I’m tired of being alone. I thought it was enough, the hookups and casual sex, but it’s not. I want to be together instead of by myself, if that makes sense. Be part of something bigger. A team. I want someone to share my life with, the highs and the lows. To laugh and cry together, to love and fight, to travel and make a home. ”

Ryder didn’t understand why, but his eyes grew moist as Branson’s soft words sank deep into him. “You make it sound so poetic. So perfect.”

Branson moved, lifting his arm, then dropping it again. “Can I…?” He gestured.

Ryder nodded.

Branson draped his arm around Ryder and pulled him against his body. “I know it was far from perfect for you.”

“Yeah.”

“But spending the rest of your life alone would be punishing yourself for what your ex did, don’t you think? You’d allow him to dictate your life, even years later.”

Ryder had never looked at it like that. “How can I trust again after that? What if I get hurt again?”

“What if you don’t? What if your fears would rob you of a wonderful relationship? Of finding your soul mate?”

A soul mate. Did he even believe in that? Ryder had always approached the concept of love from a practical point of view. If everyone only had one soul mate, many people would be unhappy if they missed meeting theirs. Or maybe he—and everyone else—had multiple soul mates? Or was a soul mate another label for the man he’d have his happily ever after with? If he even trusted he’d ever achieve that.

Branson had made a good point. If Ryder closed himself off for a new relationship, he’d also miss out on the wonderful things that came with having a partner. Morning sex. The intimacy of showering together. Cooking together. The joy that flowed from being in tune with someone else. Rare as those experiences had been toward the end with Paul, he remembered them from the beginning…and those memories were good.

But how would he find someone? What would he look for? His thoughts automatically went to Branson and their epic sexual encounter. What was it that Dorian had said? Sexual compatibility was important, considering how much sex meant to Ryder. And he couldn’t deny he and Branson fit perfectly, sexually speaking. But that was all. The idea that they fit well in other areas was preposterous.

He leaned away from Branson for a moment, seeking his eyes. “You’ve given me food for thought.”

Branson’s smile was sweet. “Good. I want to see you happy, chéri.”

For a moment, they gazed at each other, and Ryder’s belly tickled at the openness of Branson’s face. Such a stark contrast to the mask he’d always sported before. He relished it when Branson smiled at him like that, though deep down, he knew he shouldn’t. Because thinking about Branson’s smile made Ryder remember how he’d studied him after they had fucked, and that only caused him to want things he had no business wanting…

“I should go,” he said, turning his head away. He checked his watch, then sighed. It would take him another full hour to get back to his parents. He was tired just thinking about it.

“You’re welcome to use my guest room. It’s the weekend anyway, so you could even sleep in tomorrow.”

Sleep in. Fuck, that sounded good. The idea of not waking up at nine thirty from a vacuum cleaner was tempting. But was it smart to stay at Branson’s again?

After Branson’s little speech three nights before, Ryder had lain in bed awake for a long time, debating with himself whether he should go to Branson’s room or not. In the end, he hadn’t, and even the next morning, he hadn’t been sure if it had been the right call. Until they’d both gotten up and things had been wonderfully easy and casual between them, and Ryder had used that as proof that he’d been smart not to have taken Branson up on his offer.

But would he be able to turn him down again? Did he even want to, especially after the direction his thoughts had taken earlier?

“Thank you for offering,” he finally said, his head such a conflicting mess that he didn’t know what to do. When in doubt, don’t do it. That was what his father had always taught him. Don’t make the jump unless you know you can stick the landing on the other side. This particular jump had the potential to end in a disaster of cataclysmic proportions, so why would he even consider it? He shouldn’t.

“You’re going home?”

The disappointment in Branson’s voice was barely hidden, making Ryder doubt himself all over again. No, his father’s advice was solid. He should heed it. “I have to.”

“Okay.”

Branson let go of him, and they both scrambled to their feet. Ryder felt awkward, guilty that he’d rejected him, but Branson’s smile was friendly. “Safe drive home. I’ll see you Monday.”

“See you Monday. Have a good weekend.”

He stood there for a long time after Branson had walked out, then packed his stuff and took the elevator down. If he was doing the right thing, why did it feel like a mistake? Once he was in his car, he started the engine but didn’t drive off the parking lot yet. Instead, he called Dorian. He’d kept him in the loop on everything that had passed between him and Branson, including every sexy detail about their night together. Dorian would know what to do.

“Hey, Ry,” his best friend said, sounding tired. Oops, he’d called him after nine thirty. Dorian was usually in bed by then.

“Sorry, did I wake you?”

“No, I was reading in bed… What’s up?”

“I’m in the parking lot at work.”

“Okay…and?”

“Branson asked me to spend the night.”

“In his bed or his apartment?”

“His apartment… But he never retracted the other invitation, so I suppose that’s still on the table as well.”

“But he didn’t bring it up.”

“No, but he said last time it had to be my choice and that he wouldn’t put pressure on me.”

Dorian hmm’ed in understanding. “Just to be clear, you want him to fuck you again, correct?”

Ryder moaned. “You have no idea how much.”

“Are there any legal reasons you shouldn’t?”

“No. He’s not my boss, we’re not reporting to each other in any way, and I can’t think of any rule that prohibits a consensual relationship between coworkers.”

“So…”

“So what?”

“So why aren’t you naked, in his bed, with that monster cock halfway inside you by now?”

Ryder almost choked on his own breath. “Dude…”

“I’m serious, Ry. After years of bad sex, you’ve found a guy who can make you kiss the stars. He’s nice, he’s your age, he’s single, he’s got a dick to die for, and he’s a great fuck. Why are you holding out? This was what you wanted, wasn’t it? Find great sex?”

“Yeah, but… This has complications written all over it. What if…”

He wanted to say what if we break up, but they couldn’t split up if they weren’t boyfriends. And arguments weren’t that likely either if all they craved was sex. Besides, they’d both shown already that they could separate work and private. So what, exactly, were these complications he feared? Now that he wanted to list them, he couldn’t name even one.

Yes, Branson had made him think with his questions about Ryder closing himself off from future relationships, but that wasn’t on the table right now. Maybe he had a point, but Ryder could take the time to think that through and decide on a course of action. It bore no relevance for the far more pressing question of whether he should sleep with Branson again or not.

“What if you’re being a nitwit who’s overthinking it and imagining complications where there are none?” Dorian asked softly, then yawned.

“Go to sleep. Thank you for listening to me be an idiot.”

“You’re welcome. So where will you be twenty minutes from now? In your car by yourself, driving back to your parents? Or…?”

Ryder grinned. “Hopefully, as you so succinctly put it, naked, in his bed, with that monster cock halfway inside me…”

“Good. Enjoy for both of us. Love ya.”

“Love ya too. Sleep well.”

His heart was ten times lighter as he drove off the lot and set course for Branson’s apartment. He walked in after one of his neighbors, thus skipping the phase of buzzing the intercom downstairs. After he knocked, the door swung open. Branson wore only a pair of tight boxer briefs that outlined a massive hard-on. He looked stunned to see Ryder.

“I want to spend the night…in your bed,” Ryder blurted out before he could start questioning himself again.

Branson stepped aside and let him in, then closed the door behind him. “You’re sure about this?”

“Yes. Very su—”

Branson’s mouth was on his before Ryder had even finished the last word, his lips eager and hot and demanding.