Page 50 of Hush

“Ooo, get your daddy to soothe that burn, baby!”

“Don’t worry, babycakes, daddy will take care of you tonight!”

“Daddy, your baby needs a kiss-kiss!”

“Bite the pillow, I’m going deeper than your daddy!”

It only got cruder from there.

He and Kris eventually beatTop Me Hard, but they had to work for it. The heckles faded, and for the last half hour, just their play calls, grunts, and shifting sand broke over the courts. Cars passed by, the hum of tires, and lapping water on the Potomac. The moon rose, hovering over the city, but it was still hot. In the final play, Mike set Kris up for a spike, and Kris slammed it home, beating the guard by inches. Kris collapsed to his knees, screaming, and Mike tackled him into the sand as he laughed.

They shook hands with the other team—Mike gritting his teeth through the last of their friendly heckles—and then jogged back over to Tom.

Tom beamed at him, caught between laughing and cheering. “You guys were so good! That was amazing!”

“We were amazing, weren’t we? Especially Mike.” Kris sucked on his water bottle, hollowing out his cheeks, and stared at Mike.

Mike kicked sand and licked his lips. “Thanks.” He met Tom’s gaze for a half-second and then looked away. “Um, do you have my—”

“Oh, yeah. Here.” Tom passed his hoodie over, and Mike shrugged it on quickly, zipping it all the way up. He was hot, still sweating, burning up, but he couldn’t just stand in front of Tom half-naked.

“Hey, I’m sorry about what the other guys said. They were just trying to heckle me—”

Kris rolled his eyes, sighing dramatically. He fussed with his hair, staring at them both. He could not have made it more awkward, acting like a dad or an obnoxious chaperone watching their every move.

Tom shoved his hands in his pockets and scrunched up his face. “Honestly? I’ve never been complimented that much in my life.” He gave Mike a bemused kind of smile, a helpless shrug. “They were backhanded compliments. But I’ll take what I can get.”

Kris jumped in while Mike tried to find his tongue. He couldn’t figure out what to say that wasn’t a blatant come-on, wasn’t flirtatious. “We’re all grabbing drinks after. Do you want to come? You’re not allowed to pay this time. Mike’s paying.”

“I can’t.” Tom actually seemed disappointed, not like he was bowing out due to politeness. “I have some stuff I need to do tonight, before tomorrow. I got emails during your game that I need to take care of.”

Almost ten at night, but sometimes, the work never sleeps. Mike knew how that went. “Everything okay?”

“Hope so. Maybe a signal that there is an opening for a new plea agreement. Tell you tomorrow over coffee?”

“Deal.”

Kris stuck out his hand, a delicate gesture, and cocked his head. “Too bad. We’ll miss you tonight. It was good seeing you again. You’re always welcome here.” He smiled when Tom took his hand, and then winked.

Tom flushed. “See you guys later.”

Mike watched him walk away, heading for 23rdStreet. Kris hovered just behind his shoulder. “He’s going to turn around and smile. Just wait.” Kris’s voice was soft, a whisper in his ear like the devil on his shoulder. “He’s going to turn around and smile at you.”

Please, please, please…

And then, Tom did.

Mike beamed, and Tom waved before disappearing across Rock Creek Parkway.

But, coffee together the next morning turned into Mike finding a cup of coffee and a sticky note with his name on it in front of his office door.Early morning meeting in chambers. Going to be a crazy day!

He barely saw Tom, only when Tom was ducking in and out of his office or striding down the hall, head tucked together with Solórzano, who was working the stubborn felony murder case. If nothing broke today, the trial began tomorrow afternoon.

He and Kris were going to a movie that night, so he couldn’t stick around after hours waiting to see if Tom would finally have a few minutes to spare for him. The rest of the night he was grumpy and in a fit, and Kris snapped at him before the movie started. He walked home alone, Kris bailing on his bad attitude as soon as the credits rolled.

Friday morning, Winters called him and Villegas into his main office in the big courthouse to review threat assessments against the whole DC federal bench. Threats from prisoners, rumors flying in the detention center, snitches who told of revenge plots against the judges who had sentenced gangbangers and mafioso types to years and years in prison. Only nine percent of the threats made each year were serious, but it was finding the nine percent that really wanted to seek revenge or crazy fame that made the job difficult.

Mike didn’t get back to his office until after lunch. Tom’s door was shut.