His Secret

22. Matías

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

MATíAS

After walking through the hotel for a little bit, we make our way back outside to find it a little cooler now that the sun is going down.

We stop to watch the water show at the Bellagio, our arms touching as we lean against a railing. Adrian naively takes a card from one of the many card slappers on the streets.

“Oh,” he says when he looks down at it.

“Yep. That’s what we’ve been walking on. Look down.”

He shows it to me, and there’s a blonde woman pulling down her underwear, with the name Alexis written down the side, and the request to call her on the right.

“Not into blondes,” I say with a grin.

He drops it with the rest on the ground. “What are you into?”

“I thought I told you.”

“When?”

“At dinner, after Andrea and Drew left us.”

“Oh.” We walk in silence for a little while longer. “How did that come about? ”

“That’s a conversation for another time. Complicated, like your own story.”

“I see.”

We continue talking, conversations about people from our past, and whether we know what happened to them or not. Before long, we’re in the hallway, leading to our suite.

“I’m gonna shower,” I tell him as soon as we walk in.

“Me too. I’ve sweated gallons today.”

I snort. “I’ll probably be back out in the living area afterward.”

“Okay.”

I don’t know why I told him that. To warn him I’ll be in a shared space? To hopefully have him join me?

The shower is refreshing, and once I’m out, I dry myself off and rub in some lotion. In my room, I grab a pair of boxer-briefs and step inside them before pulling up a pair of dark heather joggers, finishing with a plain white T-shirt.

I run a hand through my wet hair and head into the living room. Adrian’s already on the couch, nestled into the corner of the sectional, his legs stretched across the cushions. He lounges in a loose tank top and basketball shorts. He’s got the TV on, but he’s on his phone.

“Hey,” he says, looking over at me and then doing a double take. He sits up, putting his feet on the floor. “Wasn’t sure what to put on.”

“I’m not worried about it,” I say, heading to the fridge to grab a bottle of water. I hold it up. “Want one?”

“Yeah. Feeling a little dehydrated.”

I walk over and toss him one before settling into the cushion on the opposite side. Uncapping the bottle, I look to my left to stare at the view of the Strip below us.

“Well, look at us,” I say after swallowing down a gulp. “Who would’ve thought we’d be here together? ”

He gives me an uncomfortable smile. “There was a time when I thought we’d go everywhere together.”

“Me too, but we can’t change the past, can we?”

After a few seconds he says, “No, we can’t change anything. Not the past, not our previous choices?—”

“Not who we are,” I add with a pointed stare.

He swallows. “There are lots of things we can’t change, but we can learn to make smarter choices. We can strive to be better.”

I nod once, my eyes trained on him.

He looks so good. His arms are toned and muscular, his thighs peek out from under his shorts when he moves, and his lips hypnotize me, making me remember every place they’ve been on my body.

“Well, in keeping with making smart and better decisions, I guess I should go to my room,” I say, standing up.

Adrian looks up at me, and my god, I can only imagine the look on his face if he were on the floor, at my feet, not a scrap of clothing on either one of us.

“Oh.” He stands. “I guess we have an early morning.”

I nod. “Yeah.”

“Would it…” he pauses, chewing on his lip as he scratches the back of his neck. “Is it weird to ask for a hug?”

My chest expands and warms, my stupid heart thumping against my ribs. It’s not weird. Not at all. I’ve been around him again for months and we’ve yet to hug. I can’t say I haven’t also thought about what it would feel like to have him in my arms again.

“No,” I say, tossing my water bottle on the couch. “It’s not weird.”

We each take two steps to get to one another, and then we’re embracing.

It’s not a typical friendly hug—one that’s brief and without any feelings. It’s not an awkward, one-armed side hug either. We’re body to body, not worried about keeping our hips pushed back to keep from touching.

His arms are under mine, wrapped around my back, while I snake mine around his shoulders. Our faces touch as we each nestle into the other person’s neck. He inhales my scent as my lips brush against his skin. It takes everything in me to keep from actually kissing him.

I move my hands, rubbing his back softly, filled with an emotion I didn’t expect.

I missed him. I knew that. I was mad at him. I was happy he returned. I was confused and frustrated to find he was married. But I was glad to see him again. It’s been a roller coaster of feelings, but here, in this moment, having him in my arms is something I didn’t know I needed.

I don’t hug many people. Not like this. This is good for my soul. It breaks me open and fills me with warmth and comfort.

I feel both elated and heartbroken.

I never want to let him go, but he’s not mine.

I want to cry, and I don’t know if it’s because I’m so happy or terribly sad.

Adrian squeezes me and makes a quiet noise in his throat. His hands run up and down my back, and then the fingers of my left hand dance across his shoulders, finding place at the nape of his neck. I comb them through the strands of his hair, and his body shivers.

“This isn’t weird,” I whisper next to his ear.

“No,” he says in a quiet voice. “It feels like home.”

My heart cracks open, bleeding into my chest. Kill me now.

“It’s not smart, either. ”

We both begin to ease away, our cheeks rubbing against each other.

He turns into my face like he wants to kiss me. “Probably not.”

His breath ghosts across my skin he speaks, and I close my eyes and tug on the strands of his hair.

My cock stirs to life, pressed against his hip. I know when he feels it, because his body freezes. His hands stop moving up and down my back, and besides his chest moving with each breath, he’s just still.

His arms slowly unwrap from around my body, and I take a tiny step back, but keep my hands locked around the back of his neck.

He grabs my hips, our foreheads touching as we try to bring ourselves to release one another.

I force myself to let him go, letting my hand curve around his jaw, where he nuzzles into my palm. With a small grin, I push his hair off his forehead and plant a small kiss at his hairline.

Adrian inhales deeply before looking at me. The seconds feel like they stretch into hours as we stare at each other.

He has more of a reason not to do this than I do. Sure, he’s my subordinate, but I don’t give a fuck about the rules. Not when it comes to him. His marriage is inconsequential. It’s built on lies and untruths anyway. What’s another? Especially when it means he could finally be himself.

“Goodnight, Adrian,” I finally say, taking another step back and stripping us of any contact.

“Goodnight,” he says after a few seconds.

My eyes drink in his body one more time, and I notice his growing erection pressing against the thin material of his shorts.

“Good god,” I mutter before rushing into my room to lock myself in.