Burn Zone (Hotshots 1)

He’d fucked up. Hadn’t modulated his fluid intake right. Had pushed too hard, wanting to show off with one of the best times, hadn’t calculated for the effect of all the excess weight of the gear. And hell, Kelley at least had the excuse of being slightly hungover from her weekend fun. He was simply a dumbass. And her getting ill was at least partly his fault as well—he’d set too brutal of a pace for both of them. And now look at what had happened. Everything riding on the retake. Fuck.

A knocking at his trailer’s door cut through his still half-asleep brain. And somehow he knew even before he stumbled to the door who it was.

Linc.

His breath hitched as he opened the door to reveal the man himself standing there, two grocery bags in his arms.

“What are you doing here?” His voice came out all croaky.

“Checking on you. And from the way you sound, you need it.”

He swallowed, trying to get the cottony feel out of his throat. “I’m fine.”

“Yeah, right.” Linc shook his head, apparently not buying it. He held up the bags. “Can I come in? I brought you some stuff that might help.”

“Yeah. Okay.” He stepped aside so that Linc could come into the small space. The trailer had never felt as small as it did with Linc standing in the entryway. “Aren’t you worried about being seen here? People talk.”

“Eh.” After he set the bags on the narrow counter, Linc made a dismissive gesture. “Garrick told me to come. And Sims told me what brand of electrolyte beverage to get for you.”

“Oh, well, if you got permission, by all means.” Making a sweeping arm movement, he pointed at his small built-in couch at the rear of the trailer. “Make yourself at home. We wouldn’t want to waste your Get Out of Jail Free card.”

“It’s not like that,” Linc protested as he unloaded the bags, ignoring Jacob’s unspoken order to sit. “I would have come anyway. I just meant we don’t have to worry. Which I would think you’d want. Thought you were all about convenient excuses.”

“Only when they don’t backfire.” Stretching, he groaned. And even if Linc wasn’t going to sit, he was. He sank onto the bench seat in the tiny eating nook opposite the kitchen area.

“So, it was the work this weekend? Overdid it, you think?” Sounding defeated, Linc uncapped a bottle of a popular sports drink and passed it over.

“You don’t need to go blaming yourself. Honestly, I think it was my stupid ego. Pushed too hard, too fast. Forgot to pace myself and to drink water slowly. The sun this weekend probably didn’t help, but if you’re thinking it was the sex, you’re nuts.”

“I kept you up late.” Apparently intent on making himself at home, Linc rustled around in Jacob’s limited kitchen until he came up with a pot.

“And I loved every minute.” The beverage was helping him feel more human and put more oomph in his voice. “Real talk, I wouldn’t change a thing about the weekend.”

“Good.” The tips of Linc’s ears turned pink, and he looked away. “Me too.”

“So what are you cooking me?” Still feeling foolish for earlier, he probably wasn’t the best company, but he also wasn’t turning down Linc’s cooking. Or him.

“Soup. The canned stuff is crap—full of sodium and other stuff you don’t need. This will sit right with your stomach.”

That Linc cared enough to make him something from scratch was better than any pain reliever at removing some of the weight from his shoulders.

“Thanks. Can I help?”

“You can take a shower.” Linc’s nose wrinkled. “I’m betting you just came back and collapsed?”

“Something like that.” Jacob gave a self-conscious laugh. “And I’d invite you to join me, but it’s barely big enough for me. Your master shower has spoiled me.”

“Well, I’m glad someone appreciates it. Tiling in there was a bitch.” As usual, Linc shrugged off the praise. “Go. Shower. And we’ll see what you’re up to after the food.”

“Is that a proposition? Please?” He grinned at Linc as he grabbed a towel.

“We don’t want you worn out for tomorrow...”

“Then you can do all the work.” Winking, he headed for the shower before Linc could come up with more reasons why they shouldn’t fuck. Now that Linc was here, he was feeling way better, and sex sounded like the perfect distraction from all the ways he’d screwed up.

Despite the cramped quarters, he took his time in the shower, not jacking off, but doing plenty of thinking about what they could do after dinner.

“Are the dogs going to be okay?” he asked Linc when he emerged, not bothering with clothes beyond a pair of briefs. If his lack of dress bothered Linc, so much the better.

“Yeah, I stopped off there for some herbs for your soup and fed them early, checked the water, and made sure they had access to their run. They’re fine.” Linc dished up the soup into the only two bowls Jacob owned, both castoffs from his mom, one with snowflakes and one with superheroes. “Eat slow, okay? I don’t want you puking up my hard work.”