entry. Christopher followed him down a hall that led to the back of the house, keeping his eyes open. If someone tried to jump him here, there wasn’t a damn thing he could do to boost his odds of getting out alive, but he wanted to see an attack coming anyway.
The butler—or bodyguard, Christopher really wasn’t sure—led him into an open, airy room lined with mirrors. Expensive gym equipment was spaced around the room, and a heavy free-weight set and squat rack sat in the center. Doing dips on one side of the rack was Ray’s cousin, Alejandro Munoz, drug dealer, sociopath, and one night five years ago, one of Christopher’s most tantalizing mistakes.
The night they’d spent together, when Christopher and Ray had first partnered up, had been Christopher’s one and only dalliance with a straight guy. When it ended, Alejandro had told him, apologetically, that he wasn’t into guys. That hadn’t stopped him from flirting with Christopher when they crossed paths, though.
This time, the bastard was shirtless, dressed in nothing but workout pants and sweat.
“I was surprised when you called. I never thought I’d see you again,” Alejandro said, lowering himself slowly.
“I hadn’t planned on stopping by,” Christopher admitted. “I’m actually heading out of town again right after this.”
“Oh?” He pushed himself back up, and Christopher wanted to growl at him as he curled his back and rolled up into a shaky handstand. He couldn’t picture Alejandro Munoz as a gymnast, but he had the strength and balance for it.
“Is this really necessary?” Christopher snapped. “We both already know you’re straight.”
Alejandro chuckled and gasped, lowering one foot and then the other before smoothly dropping to his feet. He wiped a thick sheen of sweat from his forehead. “I’m not showing off. I didn’t have time to work out today. Glad to know I can still make you uncomfortable, though.”
“You always could,” Christopher admitted without shame. “But I’m in a committed… uh, thing. At least I think I am.”
“You think you are?” Alejandro laughed. “You didn’t get married too, did you?”
“No. And even though I was standing there and had to sign the fucking marriage license as a witness, I’m still not sure I saw your cousin get married, either.”
“I know, right? My aloof little Raymond tying the knot!” Alejandro set a barbell on the squat rack and began to load weights onto the bar. “Raymond being too antisocial to stick with anybody is as much a universal law as gravity in my head. My whole view of the universe just got blown the fuck to pieces last week thanks to him and his FBI agent.” He loaded the other side of the barbell and slipped under the bar, letting the massive weight settle on his shoulders. “What can I do for you, Christopher?”
“I….” Christopher hesitated. He wasn’t going to second-guess himself now. “I need a favor.”
Alejandro did a deep squat, then rose slowly. He glanced at Christopher and did another. “I can’t read your mind,” he said eventually between squats. “If you could tell me what this favor is, I might be able to help.”
“I don’t even know if it’s something you can help with. I mean, it was years ago and on the other side of the country. Plus, I don’t even know the guy’s last name. And I—”
Alejandro finished his set and wiped sweat from his eyebrows. “You’re rambling,” he pointed out.
“I want to find out about a guy named Leon. He was a meth dealer selling in Miami Beach about six to eight years ago. He’s either gay or bi, probably had a thing for surfers, and might have bragged about compromising a member of the Miami-Dade vice unit.”
Alejandro cocked his head to the side, smirked, and then set the barbell down carefully. “A guy named Leon in Miami Beach? Do you have any idea how big Miami Beach is? Louis!”
The man in the dark suit stepped between them and handed Alejandro a bottle of
The butler—or bodyguard, Christopher really wasn’t sure—led him into an open, airy room lined with mirrors. Expensive gym equipment was spaced around the room, and a heavy free-weight set and squat rack sat in the center. Doing dips on one side of the rack was Ray’s cousin, Alejandro Munoz, drug dealer, sociopath, and one night five years ago, one of Christopher’s most tantalizing mistakes.
The night they’d spent together, when Christopher and Ray had first partnered up, had been Christopher’s one and only dalliance with a straight guy. When it ended, Alejandro had told him, apologetically, that he wasn’t into guys. That hadn’t stopped him from flirting with Christopher when they crossed paths, though.
This time, the bastard was shirtless, dressed in nothing but workout pants and sweat.
“I was surprised when you called. I never thought I’d see you again,” Alejandro said, lowering himself slowly.
“I hadn’t planned on stopping by,” Christopher admitted. “I’m actually heading out of town again right after this.”
“Oh?” He pushed himself back up, and Christopher wanted to growl at him as he curled his back and rolled up into a shaky handstand. He couldn’t picture Alejandro Munoz as a gymnast, but he had the strength and balance for it.
“Is this really necessary?” Christopher snapped. “We both already know you’re straight.”
Alejandro chuckled and gasped, lowering one foot and then the other before smoothly dropping to his feet. He wiped a thick sheen of sweat from his forehead. “I’m not showing off. I didn’t have time to work out today. Glad to know I can still make you uncomfortable, though.”
“You always could,” Christopher admitted without shame. “But I’m in a committed… uh, thing. At least I think I am.”
“You think you are?” Alejandro laughed. “You didn’t get married too, did you?”
“No. And even though I was standing there and had to sign the fucking marriage license as a witness, I’m still not sure I saw your cousin get married, either.”
“I know, right? My aloof little Raymond tying the knot!” Alejandro set a barbell on the squat rack and began to load weights onto the bar. “Raymond being too antisocial to stick with anybody is as much a universal law as gravity in my head. My whole view of the universe just got blown the fuck to pieces last week thanks to him and his FBI agent.” He loaded the other side of the barbell and slipped under the bar, letting the massive weight settle on his shoulders. “What can I do for you, Christopher?”
“I….” Christopher hesitated. He wasn’t going to second-guess himself now. “I need a favor.”
Alejandro did a deep squat, then rose slowly. He glanced at Christopher and did another. “I can’t read your mind,” he said eventually between squats. “If you could tell me what this favor is, I might be able to help.”
“I don’t even know if it’s something you can help with. I mean, it was years ago and on the other side of the country. Plus, I don’t even know the guy’s last name. And I—”
Alejandro finished his set and wiped sweat from his eyebrows. “You’re rambling,” he pointed out.
“I want to find out about a guy named Leon. He was a meth dealer selling in Miami Beach about six to eight years ago. He’s either gay or bi, probably had a thing for surfers, and might have bragged about compromising a member of the Miami-Dade vice unit.”
Alejandro cocked his head to the side, smirked, and then set the barbell down carefully. “A guy named Leon in Miami Beach? Do you have any idea how big Miami Beach is? Louis!”
The man in the dark suit stepped between them and handed Alejandro a bottle of
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