“Okay.” Dallas nodded, deciding Greer was in fact serious about leaving the room.
“Okay.” Greer parroted and smiled, nodded then shook his head and forced himself to step out into the hall. Dallas came forward, catching the door, waiting for the punchline. Greer stepped another foot away then another. “Text me when you wake.”
“Greer?” Dallas asked, brow furrowed. Greer took determined backward steps toward the last room on the hall.
“No, I’m doing this right. We moved too fast last time,” Greer said, moving backward until he stopped in front of the furthest door. “Everything in the room is available to you. Use what you want. Call room service if you’re hungry. It’s a full menu.”
Food held no interest. His straining cock was turning just as confused by Greer’s retreat.
“Go inside and shut the door, babe. Remember, I’m trying to woo you with my gallantry. I want to keep you safe. Sexy men standing alone in the hall could attract all sorts of unsightly debauchery.”
Dallas didn’t do as instructed, too mesmerized by Greer’s enchanting smile. Greer lifted a hand and disappeared behind the door.
He narrowed his eyes. Somehow, Dallas had wound up in an alternate universe. Minutes passed. When Greer didn’t open the door, claiming a big prank, Dallas finally retreated to his room, grabbing the bag, letting the door shut in his wake.
He stared at the bolted door separating their rooms.
Greer didn’t knock, laughing at his funny joke.
All right. Dallas guessed this was really happening.
He started for the bedroom while reaching inside his suit jacket for his cell phone. The automated lights illuminated his path as he went. The bedroom mimicked the coordinating decorative theme of the main room with color splashing out everywhere. Especially off the large, intricate print hanging above the bed. The hotel’s art was strikingly impressive.
Dallas placed the bag and the suit coat on the mattress and took a seat next to it. He first texted Ducky, who weirdly hadn’t messaged him all night. Ducky always kept Dallas up to date, to a fault. On a slow day, he sent fifty text messages, making sure Dallas knew everything happening.
He knew his little brother too well and got straight to the point. “I’m not angry. You can talk to me.”
The three dots flashed on the bottom of the screen until Ducky’s reply came through. “I keep saying the wrong things.” Another text followed immediately afterward. “I support whatever makes you happy.”
Dallas smiled at the honest simplicity of Ducky’s accepting soul.
“I’m sorry I’ve been awful. Check out this place I’m staying.” Dallas went to the doorway and snapped a picture of the bedroom then turned, snapping one of the living room. He attached both to the message, sending them to Ducky. “It’s the nicest place I’ve ever been.”
“It’s an Escape property, right?” Right. Ducky had been in on the setup. Any momentary reprieve from his anxiety vanished.
“I think I need to keep this quiet. Donny wouldn’t understand.”
“Fuck Donny.” Ducky’s rage-against-the-machine attitude came through loud and clear in that text message, instantly easing Dallas. Then in rapid-fire succession, six messages came through. His brother was quick draw with the texts.
“He was wrong last night.”
“You don’t have to sign off like he said.”
“It’s a majority and you and I are a majority.”
“We already agreed to that.”
“I just held off because I wanted you to see how great the new logo looks.”
“You have a good eye for things like that. It was better to wait until your head was clear.”
Dallas could hear Ducky’s protective nature through the words on the screen.
He smiled as he responded. “Let’s talk tomorrow about it all. Catch me up on what I missed when you get up. I’ll go through my email before then.”
Ducky sent a thumbs-up emoji and said nothing more.
The nightstand had a built-in cell phone docking station. The place was cool as shit. Dallas plugged in his phone and again sat on the edge of the bed, unzipping the bag. Whoever packed this case knew what they were doing. Every bit of the inside space had been optimized. They had two pairs of shoes, a pair of blue jeans, some joggers he supposed were his, a sweatshirt, and a rolled Henley. There were undershirts, underwear, socks, and toiletries—everything from Dallas’s preferred hair products to the toothpaste brand he liked the best. Skye had been busy as well as sneaky.
Dallas did have people that loved him even when he didn’t deserve them at all.
He kept digging through the duffle. No lube or condoms.
Greer told the truth about pushing their reset button.
Dallas grabbed the toothpaste and toothbrush and went to the bathroom that also had everything he needed there too. He quickly brushed his teeth then moved the pieces of his hair that had fallen onto his forehead. He pulled his shirt tails from his slacks then decided to remove both his shirt and undershirt.