Page 9 of Troubled Skies (Blue Skies #3)

Adrian gave himself over to Ren’s assistance, allowing himself to be helped to the waiting vehicle, then drifting as they drove through the terminal, aware of little except the comfort of Ren’s presence beside him.

His mind was clearing, and part of it was flashing warning signs at him, but in truth Adrian was exhausted.

Part of it was the lingering effects of the sleeping pill—of which he had clearly misjudged—but mostly it was the battering his mind and body had taken not just from the crash, but from the past couple of years.

Something about Ren calmed him, let him relax and lower his guard, and at the moment, Adrian was too tired to think about why that was.

When the golf cart came to a stop, Ren helped Adrian out and over to a bank of elevators.

“My bag,” Adrian protested.

“They will bring our bags to us,” Ren told him but then returned to the cart and brought Adrian his jacket. Ren slipped it around Adrian’s shoulders, and Adrian sighed as the familiar weight settled on him.

“Thank you,” he said and let himself lean against Ren once they were inside the lift.

When the doors opened again, they were greeted by a woman holding a tablet.

She gave them a big smile, welcomed them to the first-class lounge, then led them through a set of glass doors and down a corridor lined with soft lighting and closed doors.

At the end of the corridor, she used a key card and showed them into a space that was tastefully furnished with a couch, a table and chairs, and a desk beside which their bags had already been placed.

Ren helped Adrian to one of the chairs, and he tried to listen as the woman chattered about the amenities available for them, but beyond hearing that the suite contained a bedroom and private bathroom, he didn’t pay attention. His eyes closed until Ren’s gentle shake roused him.

“May I have your phone, mon cher, so our lovely concierge can verify our flights?”

Adrian gestured toward his messenger bag, and Ren got it for him so he could retrieve his phone.

After opening it, Adrian pulled up his boarding pass for the Ibiza flight.

He held the phone out to Ren then let himself drift again.

Now that he was sitting and someplace quiet, fatigue swamped him, and all he wanted to do was go back to sleep.

“Come, mon cher, let me get you to bed.”

At Ren’s words, Adrian’s eyes flew open. The woman had left, and Ren stood over him, a hand extended. Adrian stared at it, dread curdling his stomach, and forced himself to meet Ren’s gaze. “I’m not sleeping with you,” he said.

A smile creased Ren’s features. “And I am not asking you to. You are near dead on your feet. It would be unfair of me to ask anything more than to accept my assistance to the bedroom and perhaps allow me to tuck you in.”

For a long moment, Adrian stared at Ren while distrust warred with gratitude in his head.

Ren’s expression was completely guileless, and Adrian wanted to believe Ren was helping him from the goodness of his heart, that he had no ulterior motives.

But Adrian had had enough experience to the contrary that his guard was up.

He was also confused by the flare of disappointment that Ren might not be interested in him at all.

In that disappointment, Adrian felt his former self rise to the surface.

Batting his eyes at Ren, Adrian stood and cocked a hip. “Well, then, that’s a shame,” he said with the full force of Ricky’s sass as he tossed his head and looked around. “Where’s the bedroom?” he asked.

Ren seemed bemused as he waved a hand toward the two closed doors along the back wall of the suite. “The one on the left. The other is the bathroom.” He shrugged. “While you are resting, I will take a shower and order us something to eat.”

As he started to move, Ren said, “And Adrian…”

When Adrian turned, he found Ren staring at him, dark eyes glinting, sensuous lips curled upward. “Just because I am not following you to the bedroom at this moment does not mean I have no wish to do so.”

With that, Ren walked past Adrian and disappeared through the door on the right.

By the time Adrian recovered enough to move again, the water was running in the shower, and it was with the image of a wet and naked Ren that Adrian lay down and closed his eyes.

When Adrian woke, it took him a moment to figure out where he was.

The last thing he remembered with any great clarity was eating dinner on the plane and deciding to take half a tablet of his sleeping pill.

The memories of being moved—wait, carried —from the plane and transported through the terminal were vague and disjointed, almost dreamlike.

But as his thoughts cleared, and he became aware of his surroundings, Adrian remembered Ren shepherding him into this private suite.

“I’m not sleeping with you.”

Adrian’s cheeks warmed as his words came back to him. Ungh. Had Ren even offered? He didn’t think so, but they were in a private suite with a bed. It hadn’t been a huge leap to think Ren might have assumed…

And then I said…And then he said…

Burying his head under the pillow, Adrian screamed into the mattress in frustration. What was wrong with him? That was Ricky behavior, and he had vowed to do better.

From the other room, Adrian heard the television and cringed.

He was going to have to go out there, face Ren, and apologize, especially since Ren had been nothing but kind and helpful.

Easing himself from the bed, Adrian stood and crept to the door, cracking it open as quietly as he could.

As soon as he caught sight of Ren, that raw spot on his lower lip tingled, and Adrian rubbed at it, a vague sense that he should remember something about it nagging at him as he took in Ren’s sharp cheekbones and sensuous lips.

Whatever it was, Adrian couldn’t call it to mind, and figured it was as lost in the haze brought on by the sleeping pill as everything else between now and the moment he woke halfway through the flight.

Shrugging, he redirected his attention to Ren who sat on the couch scrolling through his phone while some action movie Adrian didn’t recognize played on the TV.

Despite Adrian’s attempts at stealth, Ren turned toward him as soon as he took a step into the suite.

The wide smile on his face made Adrian cringe even harder.

“Ah! Adrian, très bien, you are awake! I have coffee and pastries, but if you would like something more substantial, there is time before our flight to place an order.” Ren gestured toward the table where a carafe and coffee service had been placed next to a cloche-covered tray of pastries.

Adrian’s stomach rumbled, and Ren laughed as he rose and crossed the room just as Adrian’s phone buzzed.

“I put your phone on the charger, but it has been blowing up with messages from a ‘cuckholding asshole.’” Ren laughed again as Adrian closed his eyes and shook his head.

“I swear, I only looked to see if it was something important I should wake you for, but whoever this is does seem very concerned for your well-being.”

Even with his eyes closed, Adrian had come to a stop in front of him. Not only could he feel the warmth emanating from the man’s body, he smelled delicious. Adrian shook his head again, trying to form a coherent thought while embarrassment made him want to disappear back into the bedroom.

“Is something wrong, poussin?” Ren asked. “Do you need to sit down?”

Adrian nodded. Before he could open his eyes and take a step away from Ren, the man had taken hold of one of his hands and was leading him forward. Adrian opened his eyes. “Why are you being so nice to me?”

“Should I not be?” Ren asked, frowning as he looked back at Adrian.

Glancing down at their joined hands, Adrian shrugged, unwilling to admit that it was difficult for him to accept Ren’s generosity without wondering what strings were attached to it.

“I’m not used to Prince Charmings coming to my rescue,” Adrian said.

Ren frowned, seemed to pull into himself, and dropped Adrian’s hand as he turned away.

“Then it is good I am no one’s Prince Charmant.

” He returned to his seat on the couch and picked up his phone, continuing to frown at whatever he saw on the screen.

“You should not believe what you read in fairy tales, mon cher.”

Adrian shook his head even though Ren wasn’t looking at him. “I stopped believing in them a long time ago. In my experience, they’re just an illusion.”

Ren lifted his head and met Adrian’s gaze for a moment before nodding. “In my experience, too.”

They continued to stare at each other until Adrian’s phone buzzed again from the charging station in the corner.

He crossed the room, picked it up, and glared at the notification on the lock screen.

“For fuck’s sake,” he muttered as he opened his texts and saw the dozen or so messages his ex had sent him in the past hour. He swore again as another text arrived.

tell me ur ok i m worried wuld luv 2 c u

What. The. Fuck. Adrian hadn’t heard a peep from Eric since he’d seen him on that flight with his husband and three kids. As soon as he’d gotten home, he’d moved out of the condo and sent him a text very clearly saying he never wanted to hear, see, or even smell the man ever again.

“I need coffee,” Adrian muttered and turned to the table. As soon as he saw the pastries, his stomach rumbled again.

“You can order something if you like,” Ren said from the couch.

“This is fine,” he said, regretting the snippiness in his tone as soon as the words were out of his mouth. “Sorry. I need food, and this is enough for me. Really.” He paused. “Thank you.”

“Of course, poussin.” Ren smiled at Adrian. “Exes can be a nightmare, non?”