Page 11 of The Trust (As Above)

Jordan

“You’re glowing.”

I lift a brow but don’t bother sparing Lemon a glance as he bounces next to me.

“C’mon, Daddy Jay, I’ve seen you post orgasm, but this ?” His fluttering hands fill my periphery, and I shake my head. “This is something else.”

He says that he’s seen me post-orgasm only because he showed up early one morning and caught Mac and me off guard like two months ago. Had I just gotten my dick sucked? Yep. And did Mac run out the back door to catch up with a waiting Peach and left me all alone to face Lemon on my own? Also yep .

My teeth sink into the inside of my lip to keep my grin from spreading.

“Shouldn’t you be unlocking doors or something? Wiping mats down?” I grumble to hide the way my lips tip up, but I’m fairly certain I fail.

Lemon shakes his head, his hair flopping around his forehead.

“Nope. Already did. Now spill the tea.” Snorting does not help my case. He bounces even higher, wraps his hands around my crooked elbow and tugs. “ Oh, my gods. Oh, my gods . Tell meeee.”

Attempting to pin the man with a look does nothing but raise my own blood pressure.

Just like these stupid spreadsheets .

The breath I blow out puffs my cheeks at the reminder of my gym’s financial state and I decide that answering Lemon sounds easier to deal with.

“Fine.”

Lemon freezes. Eyes wide and barely blinking.

“Holy shit, you bottomed.”

I choke on my own saliva. “What? How ?”

“ Ohhhh my gawds ,” he screeches and throws his arms up, dancing around in a circle in the little space behind the reception desk next to me. “Fuck yes, Daddy Jay! Finally .”

You’re telling me.

“Okay, okay.” There’s a chuckle that escapes me and he starts clapping.

“I fucking told you . Holy shit. Didn’t I tell you?”

“Um, no?”

He scoffs and settles in beside me, his energy still radiating off him in jittering waves.

“I did. I said we were alike. This—” he gestures at me with a finger, “says I was right.”

“No, this—” I point at my own chest, “—says I’m vers. Not a bottom.”

“Potato, poh-tah-to.”

“There’s a difference.”

“Is there, though?” He pins me with a look. “Both mean you take dick up the ass and enjoy it.”

“ Lemon .”

He snickers. “I’m jealous.”

I scrub my hands down my heated face and turn back to the computer. “Do I want to know what of?”

“Probably not.”

Barely catching his shrug, I pretend to stare at the numbers on the screen.

Because while Mac and I are doing fantastic, everything else just … isn’t .

The numbers still don’t add up. The repairs and cheap memberships have meant that even putting back everything that comes from the gym, I’m still paying out of pocket for half the utilities.

And while that’s not ideal, not sustainable long term, I’ve also been skipping out on body guarding, too, to deal with being here.

I’m being pulled in every direction.

Stretching way too thin.

It’s not enough .

I blow out my breath and turn to Lemon.

Who is uncharacteristically quiet.

My brows dip.

“You’re opening up,” he mutters, then darts away.

“Lem,” I call but he just disappears down the employee hall.

There’s a knock on the door that draws my attention when I stand to follow him.

Goddammit.

Craig fills out the glass set into the entrance, his hand raised like he’s about to knock again even though he can see me, and I glance at my watch.

5:03 a.m.

I want to roll my eyes, but I don’t. Instead, I let the guy in with a muttered greeting.

“Glad it’s you here today, bro. The one yesterday gave me the creeps.”

My brows meet as Craig blows past me, his duffle bag tagging me in the gut as he passes.

“Um, what guy is that?” I ask, but Craig is already halfway across the floor and putting his earbuds in.

Weird .

Must not have been too bad if he came back.

Shaking my head, I return to the computer at the reception desk and scowl at the numbers.

I really need to get more people in here .

My phone buzzes and just a glance at the text lighting up the screen brings a smile to my face.

Mac: Good morning, baby .

God, I hope the swirling inside my chest because of this man never goes away.

Me: Buenos días mi vida.

The text bubbles pop up only a moment before a picture that makes my cock jump populates the screen.

It’s his tattooed fingers, wrapped around his length in the dark.

My mouth waters and my cheeks heat.

“Hey, bro—”

The crack of me slamming my phone face down rings through the air and makes Craig jump back.

“My bad,” I mutter. “What’d you need?”

“Damn, man.” He shakes his head and steps back up to the desk. “I was just gonna see if I could extend a few more days. Didn’t mean to catch you off guard.”

“Yeah, yeah,” I breathe out and scoot closer to the computer to hide any evidence of thickening in my shorts. “No problem.”

The process takes even less time than before with his info already loaded in the system, and yet, I sweat with every second that this guy stands on the other side of my desk.

It’s almost like there’s something telling me he’d grab my phone. See something not meant for him but get upset anyway.

It’s like he’s encroaching on spaces not meant for him with just his energy and a huge part of me wants to tell him I can’t extend his membership. Maybe make up a reason why not.

It’s just seven more days.

“Okay, all set.”

I rap my knuckles on the wood between us and offer a nod to signal the end of this interaction.

He nods back and instead of leaving like I expect, he settles in at another machine.

Sighing to myself, I eye him over the monitor. Close all my tabs and programs. Shut the thing down for my own sanity and go find Lemon to watch the desk.

My boyfriend’s hard and frisky.

Sounds better than sitting here.