Page 15 of The No Repeat Policy

Traffic has been light. The snow flurries are probably to blame. It started to come down not long after I left Boone and entered the winding back roads leading farther up the mountain. It’s darker than normal for two in the afternoon, with the low puffy snow clouds keeping the sun out. It casts the road in a dull gray. It’s dark enough that my headlights reflect off the pavement and give the trees lining the edges a harsh white-washed, brown glow. Then there’s the snow. It’s too warm to stick yet.

After getting the invite, I’d asked Madison what she knew of it. Seems that it is an annual thing. Everyone in the company spends the weekend at a cabin I’ve only glimpsed from a satellite image on Google Maps. It looks big, like really big, but then again it does belong to the owners of the company, so that makes sense.

I know I told Mr. Ellis I’d go during the week, but it sort of caught me by surprise, and it just seemed the right thing to say at the moment. It hadn’t taken but seconds for me to start second-guessing and wondering why I’d so eagerly agreed. The only reason I’m on this road, on my way up, is because of Madison. Mr. Ellis hadn’t been gone from my office for more than half an hour max, and here she came, slinking through the door and dropping into the seat opposite my desk with a smile on her face. The first words out of her mouth were, So you’re coming, right? but it was anything but a question.

I tried to dance around it at first, but it was only a matter of time before she whittled me down and I said yes. Her only real reason was because she’s my friend and some bullshit about she’d miss me if I didn’t come. Oh, and I’d be bored without her. She sort of has a point, but I did tell her not to get too carried away.

Sasha whines in the passenger seat. I run a hand over her neck and ruffle the hair on her head. “What’s a matter, Sash?”

I’ve already given in to nicknames. Baby girl. Girlie. Sash. Sure, it’s only removing the A, but it just feels right, and I think she knows it’s her still. She does already know how to sit and roll over on command after all. Whoever had her before me, and so cruelly dropped her off at the animal shelter, must have spent at least a little time training her. It’s one hundred percent their loss and my gain.

“We’re almost there, promise,”

I tell her, stealing a glance at the GPS on my phone screen. Twelve minutes to go.

I didn’t think you could get much more mountainous or remote than Boone, but hell, was I wrong. This place is even more up on the side of some mountain, one of many along the Appalachians. According to the maps I saw, there isn’t another house for miles. So, if nothing else it should be quiet.

“Turn right in half a mile and your destination is on the right,”

Google announces, but all I’m seeing is more and more forest. That’s because my destination isn’t simply on the right. No, it’s another mile up their private driveway.

I take the right at the next road. There are no signs, no markers. Just a paved road that’s starting to get a dusting of snow. I can see tire tracks leading the way. Someone else must have just arrived too.

It’s a meandering, curving path between dense evergreens and steep slopes. The farther I go, the more I hope I don’t need to leave the party early. It’s got my anxiety pumping up a bit because my phone predicted at least four inches of snow by Saturday night, and these roads are not where I want to be if it hasn’t melted yet. Madison assured me the temperatures are supposed to begin rising Sunday night and that by Monday it should be okay. Worst case scenario is I’m stuck in a cabin with her and my co-workers and don’t have to work.

“You suppose this place actually exists?”

I joke to Sasha as if she understands.

The road seems to go on and on with no sign of ending, but maybe that’s the snow playing with my head. I check my phone again. It doesn’t look to be far. However, I have literally no signal. So that’s not fun. They better have Wi-Fi.

Finally a light flickers between the trees, which sends Sasha to howling. I’m about to join her, honestly.

“About time, huh?”

I huff and pat Sasha on the back. “Let’s see if this place measures up to Madison’s hype.”

She was all about it being magnificent. Her word, not mine.

I make the bend, and the trees open to a wide clearing. The cabin is set directly in the middle, and I think I’m going to have to agree with Madison. It’s massive. Like, it’s no Baltimore, but you could fit at least three of my parents’ houses in it. Maybe four. A string of fairy lights dangles from the awning over the front porch. They sway in the wind, causing light to flicker off the large uneven logs that stack atop each other, until it’s all capped off by a massive sloping tin roof.

I pull up and claim the spot next to a silver Cadillac SUV. It’s not one I’m familiar with. Not one I’ve seen at work. Oh shit, is this not just employees? Fuck. I catalog the cars I got a glimpse of before parking. A black Volvo SUV, one of Mr. Ellis’s many vehicles. A silver Polestar I know as Rachel’s. I’m honestly surprised she chanced driving it up here. Then again, here I am in a beat-up car that probably shouldn’t be driving in these conditions. Then Madison’s Honda. At least she’s already here. Maybe it’ll just be a few extra people. Maybe it’s just a car I don’t know. Maybe it’s Mrs. Ellis’s car or one of the others’ wives. Are they all married? Hell, I don’t know.

After zipping up my coat, I attach Sasha’s collar to one of those fancy retractable leashes. “You ready, girlie?”

Sasha woofs and taps her feet on the cloth seat excitedly, which I take for a yes, and open the door. A rush of freezing air and flakes bite at my skin. I shiver, and suddenly I wish I were covered in hair like Sasha. It’s not fair, really. I slide out of the car and let Sasha jump across the seats and pounce onto the cold pavement. I take a breath, letting it chill my nostrils.

“Here we are,”

I say, and grab my single case of luggage from the back seat before making my way to the lit front porch.

Madison must have been waiting for me. Before I can round the cars she’s traipsing out the front door, hands up in a massive furry jacket, screaming at me.

“Kolton!”

“Maddie!”

I give her back the same energy and throw out my hands for a hug.

“And Sasha,”

Madison squeals, but her tone morphs into an ooey gooey syrup while she bypasses my open arms. She takes Sasha’s jaw in her hands and nuzzles her nose against Sasha’s. Madison’s the only one who she’ll be getting that from. Wet dog nose on my nose just isn’t it for me.

“And I guess I’m dog shit,”

I huff, eyeing her down and then give Sasha a joking evil eye. “I was here first, girlie, back off my friend.”

“Someone’s defensive.”

Madison straightens back up and gives me a quick hug. “Let’s get inside. It’s so fucking cold out here.”

“Goddamn right it is.”

I wave a hand forward for her to go first. “Come on, Sasha.”

We mount the stairs, and the wooden planks creak underfoot before Madison opens the door.

We’re all three welcomed by not only a chorus of Hey and There he is, but the most amazing rush of warmth.

The first thing I register is the massive fireplace at the head of the open space.

It’s amazing.

Flames dance over wood, crackling and oozing warmth.

I’m not exaggerating when I say I could stand inside there and still have room over my head.

This place is insane.

And that’s not counting the vaulted wooden ceilings, the multiple decorated Christmas trees, pristine hardwood floors, sprawling fur carpets—hopefully faux fur—ornate lighting with Edison bulbs, furniture that probably costs as much as I pay a year in rent, and the balcony along the back overlooking it all, draped from post to post in lush green garland and golden bows.

“Woah,”

I say as I take it all in. Madison kicks me and I come back to as Heather and Mrs. Ellis crouch down to entertain Sasha after saying a quick hello. “Uh, yeah. Hey everyone. This place is gorgeous.”

Who knew publishing could be so lucrative.

“Thank ya.”

Jon Ellis is the first to respond, and he even gets up to greet me with a warm handshake and pats Sasha on the head. “Me and the guys—”

which I translate to mean him, Lawrence, and Gregory “—went in together a few years ago and had it built. It’s a great little getaway, as you’ll see, I’m sure. Let me show you to your room so you can put your stuff away.”

Little getaway my ass. This place is huge as fuck, not to mention expensive looking. I’m probably going to be tiptoeing around here the whole time so I don’t damage anything. Not stressful at all, right? I look at Madison, then Sasha. Both seem to shrug as if it’s a good idea, so I nod.

“That’d be great,”

I say, giving Sasha a little tug to follow.

“We’ll be right back. Don’t miss us too much,”

Jon tells the others, which includes his wife, Heather and Rachel, Gregory, Lawrence, and a spindly black woman who has Lawrence wrapped up on the couch under a blanket. I’m just assuming she’s his wife, maybe girlfriend. I don’t know. Then again it could be a daughter too. “It’s right this way.”

“Be back,”

I tell Madison and follow, stepping down into the living area before trailing him up a large staircase and across the balcony. Curiosity gets me, and I peek over the railing to see the others below. It’s not that high, but I’ve never been in a house with an actual balcony, so this is cool.

“You’re actually getting one of the better rooms,”

Jon says as his hand wraps a doorknob and twists. It opens into a space that is probably about the size of my bedroom, bathroom, and living room combined. “It’s one of the few with its own bathroom.”

“Well, fancy,”

I joke, but maybe that’s not the best thing to joke about here. Dammit.

“It’s all a little over the top.”

Jon pats my shoulder.

I walk past him. Sasha barges around my hip and jumps on the bed. Looks like she’s already claimed her side, but it’s a king, so there’s plenty of room. Hell, you could have a threesome on that thing and still have room.

“Pam likes things flashy. Have you seen her car?”

Jon asks as he shakes his head. “She had the Caddy emblems coated in gold.”

“I, uh…yeah. That’s a lot, actually,”

I agree and laugh with him.

I drop my bag next to the bed and do a little half spin to take in the room. It’s cozy despite its size. In addition to the bed there’s a large chaise lounge, a small table with its own set of chairs in the corner, a massive armoire, and…and oh my God, it has its own fireplace. I’m in love.

“One thing though.”

Jon coughs.

One thing though? That doesn’t sound good. Nothing good ever started with, One thing though.

“You’re going to have a roommate. There aren’t enough rooms for everyone by themselves, so we’re having to pair up.”

Jon laughs nervously. “Probably should have mentioned that before, but everyone else knows and it slipped. Old man brain. Sorry about that. But hey, it shouldn’t be too bad. You’ll be rooming with my son. He’ll be here soon.”

“Your…oh, okay,”

I stumble, then catch myself.

I can sleep in the same bed as another guy without fucking them. I can do it. Maybe I can’t remember the last time that happened, but I can do it. Hell, he’s probably some annoying dorky rich kid who’ll just stick on his phone the entire time anyway. Oh, and how old is he? Yikes. Please don’t be some annoying middle schooler.

“I hope that’s okay.”

Jon apologizes without really apologizing and shrugs.

“Yeah, no, that’s okay. Not a problem. We’ll figure it out,”

I tell him.

“Good. That’s great. How about we get back to the others,”

he says, like everything is perfect again, and starts out the door. “Pam’s been cooking most the day. It’s going to be a feast.”

I nod. I don’t know what else to say. Can she cook? I know she brings food to the office every week, but it’s usually takeout. And now I’m going to be rooming with the boss’s son, sleeping with the boss’s son. Ugh, okay, maybe don’t think of it like that. Fuck. No. Or maybe. What if he’s near my age, and hot? A flash of Xander’s face prints itself in my vision. Don’t ruin this for me. Fucking forget that bitch.

Okay, stop. I don’t need an erection before we get downstairs over an imaginary situation. I hold my hands over my crotch just to be safe, because I can feel the tension between my jeans and dick already.

Sasha grunts at me, and I give her evil eyes. You don’t know a thing, girl! Stop it. I undo her leash and let her free, which gets me a nuzzle against my thigh. I pat her and follow Jon back downstairs.

“This place really is something though. I can’t wait to see outside tomorrow,”

I tell him at the bottom of the stairs.

“The view is stunning in the early morning,”

Lawrence bellows from the couch.

“Absolutely stunning,”

Rachel echoes.

“We have to get up early then.”

The girl at Lawrence’s side pops his shoulder.

“Of course.”

Lawrence nods and then looks at me. I think he notes my confusion. “This is Reagan. Yes, she’s my girlfriend.”

“Everyone is always asking him.”

Gregory steps closer, settling next to Jon, who’s nodding. “How old is she again?”

Oh shit. Here we go.

“She is a ripe ol’ twenty-nine,”

Lawrence says very matter-of-factly. There’s a history there. I can smell it. They have been friends forever.

“Ripe, huh? Like you?”

Gregory teases. “How old are you again?”

“Younger than your old ass.”

Lawrence grins and takes a swig of what looks like whiskey.

“One year! By one year.”

Gregory puts up a finger.

“Same.”

Jon nods quietly, but the thought seems different there.

“Do the math then.”

Lawrence leans back and his hand grips tighter around Reagan’s waist.

“That’s your job, Mr. CFO.”

Gregory rolls his eyes. Then he looks at me and laughs. “He’s sixty-three, for the record.”

“Oh,”

I say. I’m definitely not one to judge. Everyone has their thing. That’s his.

“On that note,”

Lawrence starts.

“No business, Lawrence,”

Jon groans.

“Just one thing, you…”

I drown it out and slip over to Madison. She’s been quietly listening. I hadn’t even noticed that Sasha has abandoned me for her. Traitor.

“Trying to steal my dog now?” I ask.

“Maybe.”

She wiggles up next to me.

I bet at least one person in this room thinks we’re banging, even if they do know I’m gay. No one ever seems to actually believe it.

“This is pretty amazing, and they’re definitely more laid back than usual,”

I say. They’re not hardcore or anything at work, but the banter is more work appropriate, I guess.

“Just wait until Lawrence has a few more drinks in him, and Gregory.”

She gives me the down-low. I lean in and she keeps going. “Jon is usually pretty mellow. His wife, though, Pam, she’ll be wasted half the weekend.”

“Hopefully after cooking,”

I point out. I’d like the food to be edible.

“Logan might be a nerd, but he’ll loosen up once he gets here too,”

she continues. I can’t see Logan as anything but a nerd, but we all have different sides. “Oh, and the son. Jon’s son. He should be here. He’s so hot. So your type.”

“Quieter,”

I say as she mentions Jon’s son and hot and my type in the same sentence, and then I connect some dots. “Wait, his son? He’s hot?”

“Yeah.”

Madison raises a glass of something clear and takes a sip while bumping me. I don’t know where she got that.

“Oh no. That’s a big no. Like a major numero uno big no,”

I tell her. Am I sweating? I think I’m beginning to sweat.

It was just a pipe dream. A momentary thought upstairs. I didn’t mean for it to be real. I can’t fuck the boss’s son. I need my job, but if he’s as hot as Madison thinks he is, and he’s even remotely a little not-straight…I’m fucked.

“You’ll be good.”

Madison grins.

“Sure about that?”

I ask, and bite back at my lips.

“As long as you hide that Eiffel Tower down there, yep.”

“Fuck,”

I mumble under my breath and put my hands in my pockets and push my pants forward to hide my rising issue.

“This is going to be great.”

Madison laughs and walks off.