Broken Rules Page 14

  HE WAS nine years old, the joy of life fizzing in his chest and almost impossible to contain.

  “’Paro, ’Paro, come see!”

  Amparo turned from the sheets she was putting on Sterling’s bed and caught him in midair as he launched himself at the mattress.

  “Oh no you don’t,” she said, tickling him as he squirmed and giggled and kicked. “I just made that bed. You don’t get to mess it up just yet!”

  Sterling flailed as she danced her fingers up and down his ribs and made him convulse in helpless laughter.

  When she finally stopped to let him breathe, he collapsed against her, smelling warm cotton and soap as she held him.

  “What did you want to show me, esterlina?” she said, letting him stand up.

  “I made something,” Sterling said, grabbing her hand and pulling to urge her to her feet. “I wanna show you!”

  Amparo followed him out of his bedroom and down the stairs to the main floor.

  Sterling had brought in great, heaping armfuls of dried leaves and twigs, using the stark white of the marble floor to accentuate their golden and russet hues as he arranged them in a swirling vortex of color. The leaves were even arranged by shades of brown, going from dark all the way to sandy tan in a rippling curve, hemmed in and framed by the branches.

  Amparo gasped. “Oh, oh Sterling, it’s lovely, but your mother—”

  Sterling shrugged that off. “She’s busy. It took me a long time, and I made it for you. Do you like it?”

  “I love it,” Amparo told him, taking his hand. “But it can’t stay on the floor in here, you know that, yes?”

  “I know,” Sterling said. “I just made it ’cuz it was pretty. And so are you.” He knelt by one of the sections of dark brown leaves. “Look, ’Paro, it’s the color of your eyes.”

  Amparo smiled at him as footsteps sounded from above them, and someone gasped sharply.

  “What have you done?”

  Amparo’s smile slid off her face as Sterling straightened.

  “I made ’Paro something pretty, Mom!” he said.

  “I’ll clean it up right now, Mrs. Reynard,” Amparo said. She sent Sterling a private smile as she hurried off to find the broom and dustpan, and Alice descended the stairs.

  “Do you like it?” Sterling asked.

  Alice’s mouth was pursed, the skin around her eyes tight with contained fury. “The Wings of Courage ladies will be here any minute, Sterling, and you’ve turned my house into a—a pigsty!”

  Sterling flinched. “I’m sorry,” he whispered. “I thought it was pretty.”

  Amparo came back with two brooms and stepped between Sterling and Alice. “Querido, why don’t you start on that side and I’ll work on this one, and we’ll sweep it out together?”

  Alice made an annoyed noise. “Honestly, Amparo, we’ve talked about you using Spanish around the children.”

  “I’m sorry, Mrs. Reynard,” Amparo said, sweeping industriously and dropping Sterling a wink where Alice couldn’t see.

  Sterling caught on and began to wield the broom vigorously, leaves and twigs flying everywhere as he “swept.”

  Alice coughed in the ensuing cloud of dust and beat a hasty retreat.

  As soon as she was gone, Amparo and Sterling slowed down, and she smiled at him again.

  “You have such an eye for color, mi amor.”

  Sterling grinned at her and helped sweep the leaves out of the house and back into the yard where they belonged.

  HE OPENED his eyes, staring up at the ceiling that soared twenty feet above his head, and wondered idly where Amparo was. He’d barely even thought of her in years, not since—

  Sterling rolled to his side and gazed into the hall. Sanyam’s door was shut, but a light showed beneath it. Sterling wanted suddenly, desperately, to get up and pad across the hallway, to open Sanyam’s door and slip inside, crawl into his bed, and let Sanyam gather him into his arms.

  You’re pathetic, a tiny voice jeered. Be a man. Men don’t cry. They don’t need to be comforted like babies. What is wrong with you? Useless, weak—

  Sterling buried his face in his arm and took a shaky breath as something landed on the bed with a soft whump.

  He propped himself on his elbows to behold Polly sitting by his feet, regarding him curiously.

  “No,” Sterling told her. “Go away.”

  Polly opened her mouth, and a tiny squeak came out.

  Sterling’s eyebrows climbed. “You call that a meow? You disgust me. Come back when you sound like a real cat.”

  Polly squeaked again and stood up to cross the bedcovers on silent feet and climb onto Sterling’s stomach, where she sat down again.

  “You have got to be kidding,” Sterling said.

  Polly yawned and began to purr, crystal-blue eyes half-closed. She flexed her front paws, and Sterling yelped as tiny pinprick claws kneaded his shirt rhythmically.

  “I know I’m not a nice person,” Sterling told the ceiling, “but what did I do to deserve this?”

  Polly curled up and closed her eyes. The purring was surprisingly soothing, Sterling had to admit, and after a minute, he cautiously touched her with a finger. Her fur was cloud-soft, cream melting into beige into seal brown on her ears, legs, and tail, and Sterling sighed and put his head back on the pillow as he relaxed for the first time in weeks.

  HE WOKE up with a warm, furry weight draped across his chest and the noise of a shower running. Ordinarily the thought of Sanyam in the shower, water droplets glistening in his hair and beard, that bitable brown skin wet and sleek, would have been more than a little diverting. But Sterling was not a morning person, so he snarled and rolled over, dislodging Polly to bury his face in the pillow.

  He drifted in and out as the sun stole across the bed, and came back to consciousness when Sanyam knocked lightly on the open door.

  “I made breakfast.”

  Sterling lifted his head and rubbed his eyes. “Not hungry.”

  Sanyam’s lips twitched. “The shower’s free. You can jump in while I set the table.”

  Polly mrrped at Sanyam and hopped off the bed.

  “You made a friend,” Sanyam observed, bending to pet her as she rubbed against his leg. “Polly usually takes a while to warm up to strangers.”

  Sterling made a muffled noise that could have meant anything and rolled off the bed, going up on his tiptoes to stretch. He dragged his shirt off over his head and dropped it on the floor, scratching his stomach absently as he shuffled for the bathroom. There was dead silence behind him, and it wasn’t until Sterling got to the bathroom that he remembered he’d taken his pants off at some point in the night and was naked except for his silk boxers.

  Serves him right for waking me up, he decided and turned on the water.

  He took his time, enjoying the heat that turned his muscles to taffy. When he stepped out, he was more alert, and hesitated when he realized he didn’t have any clean clothes.

  Sterling wrapped a towel around his waist and shook his damp hair out of his eyes as he opened the bathroom door and nearly tripped over a neatly folded pile of clothes on the floor. He bent and picked them up to discover a soft royal-blue T-shirt with the Canucks logo emblazoned across the front and a pair of sweatpants.

  Sterling curled his lip but retreated back into the bathroom to get dressed.

  When he emerged, damp and rumpled, he followed his nose to the kitchen, where Sanyam was setting out a plate of french toast next to a platter piled high with bacon.

  “I thought you weren’t allowed to eat pork,” Sterling said, before his brain caught up to his mouth.

  Sanyam’s eyes creased in amusement. “I don’t eat halal,” he said, gesturing to a seat. “I see you found the clothes.”

  “It was that or eat breakfast naked,” Sterling said. He sat down and stole a piece of bacon off the plate.

  Sanyam made a disappointed noise. “Clearly, I didn’t think that through.”

  Sterling fought a smile and took a
bite.

  “Colby will be here today with your things, correct?”

  Sterling shrugged with his mouth full. “Prob’ly.”

  “You’re not sure?”

  “Colby kind of… isn’t reliable,” Sterling said. “If he says he’s going to do something, he’ll try to do it, but he’s just as likely to get distracted by a butterfly as he is to actually follow through. He’s kind of like a big, dumb puppy.”

  Sanyam sat down opposite him and made a motion indicating Sterling should dig in.

  He did so, realizing as he filled his plate that he was hungry, and heaped thick slabs of french toast on top of each other.

  “But he took you in,” Sanyam said as Sterling took a bite. “He sounds like a good person.”

  “He is,” Sterling said, surprised into looking up. “He’s the best.” Better than me, that’s for sure.

  “Are you thinking of getting a particular job?” Sanyam asked, cutting his own piece of toast into neat squares.

  Sterling hunched his shoulders. “I’m—I don’t know. I need to, but I’m not… good at anything.”

  “That’s clearly not true,” Sanyam said. “You went to college, didn’t you? Got a degree?”

  “In finance,” Sterling muttered. “I hate finance. But I didn’t have a choice—it was what Dad wanted, and he was paying for it. Anyway, I barely scraped through.”

  “Because it’s not your passion.” Sanyam nodded and handed Polly a tiny piece of bacon. “Well, you’ll need to figure out what you’re doing at some point, but it can wait. There’s no rush.”

  “I’m not going to fucking freeload off you,” Sterling snapped as fury suddenly flooded him and he threw his fork down. “I’ll pay you back, okay? As soon as Dad’s estate settles, I’ll have a little bit. Not much, not enough to live on, but I can pay for my food at the very least, I’m not going to just be a sponge!” He pushed his chair back and stood.

  “Sit down,” Sanyam said flatly.

  Sterling hesitated and sank back to his seat.

  Sanyam’s eyes were tight with irritation. “Fox, I understand that you have a multitude of issues on your mind right now. You blame yourself for your father’s death, if not his misdeeds. You hate yourself, and you can’t understand why anyone would ever help you, because you don’t deserve help, in your mind. Still, that doesn’t give you the right to lash out like that.”

  Sterling stared at his plate, and Sanyam sighed.

  “I’m sorry, kit. I shouldn’t have snapped. We’ll figure this out, all right? Fox, look at me, please.”

  Sterling lifted his gaze. Sanyam was smiling, affection in his eyes.

  “You can stay as long as you need,” he said. “Perhaps the club is hiring. Would you be willing to work there as a server?”

  “I—I don’t know how,” Sterling admitted, hot shame flooding his face.

  “They would train you,” Sanyam said. “If you have me recommending you, I’m sure Ava would give you a chance. You’d have to promise to work hard, though. Are you interested?”

  Sterling drew in air. Was he interested? He had no idea what serving entailed. Surely it couldn’t be too difficult, and he needed the money. He nodded.

  Sanyam smiled. “I’ll talk to Ava tonight.”

  Sterling opened his mouth and closed it again. Polly tapped his knee with one tiny paw, and he handed her a piece of egg as Sanyam picked up his own fork and took another bite.

  Chapter Nineteen

  “HAVE YOU lost your fucking mind?” Ava demanded before Sanyam was even through the door.

  “Probably,” Sanyam said calmly. “It’s always been a possibility. Why do you ask?”

  Ava glared, bristling with outrage. “You—you want me to hire your… your boyfriend? The one you were seeing after I explicitly told you not to? The one you got written up over?”

  “He’s not my boyfriend,” Sanyam said, clearing a chair to sit down. “And yes.”

  Ava’s jaw sagged. “You have a nerve,” she sputtered. “Tell me why I shouldn’t just fire you right now and have done with this entire nonsense.”

  Sanyam arched an eyebrow. “Because I’m the highest-earning performer you have, barring Trinity on the pole. I’ve nearly doubled your club’s revenue in the few months I’ve been here. You’re not going to fire me. But if Fox doesn’t work out, you’re more than welcome to fire him. All I’m asking is that you consider taking him on. He’s in a bad place right now. And he wouldn’t be a client of mine or anyone else’s here, so there’d be no conflict of interest.”

  “The big brass balls on you,” Ava said, almost admiringly.

  Sanyam smiled. “I’ll take that as a compliment. So is that a yes?”

  “I’m not going to go easy on him just because you think he’s cute,” Ava warned.

  “I wouldn’t expect you to,” Sanyam said. He inclined his head. “Thank you. I will impress on him the importance of working hard.”

  “Whatever,” Ava said. “Get out of here, you moneymaker.”

  Sanyam obeyed, smiling.

  FOX HAD stayed behind at the house, and Sanyam was distracted all through his shift, thinking about the wounded look in his eyes, the way he didn’t know what to do with his hands, or how to thank Sanyam for helping him.

  He was relieved when he was done for the evening and able to catch the bus home. There was a light on in the living room when he climbed the stairs, but he eased the door open to see Fox sprawled on the couch, fast asleep, Polly snoozing on his chest.

  Sanyam toed his shoes off silently and tiptoed nearer.

  Fox’s face was soft, his mouth lax, and he looked young and vulnerable, a piece of porcelain poised to shatter.

  Perhaps he already has, Sanyam thought. He brushed Fox’s hair off his forehead as Polly squeaked at him.

  “Shh,” Sanyam whispered.

  Fox turned his face against Sanyam’s hand and sighed, opening his eyes. He froze when he realized where he was, and Sanyam pulled away to pick Polly up and put her on the floor.

  “It’s nearly three,” he told Fox, who pushed himself to a sitting position. “You should go to bed.”

  Resentment flickered across Fox’s face. “I’m not a child.”

  “No, of course you’re not,” Sanyam said, taking a step back. “I talked to Ava. She’s willing to give you a chance, but you’ll have to work for it.”

  Fox stood and stretched, going up on tiptoe like he had that morning, and Sanyam was just as helpless against it as he’d been earlier.

  He cleared his throat and turned away, stopping when he caught sight of what was spread out on the coffee table.

  “Did you make that?” he asked, staring at the pieces of glass forming an ornate letter C in a rainbow kaleidoscope.

  “I was just dicking around,” Fox said. He bent to sweep the fragments back into the box, and Sanyam caught his arm.

  “Leave it,” he said, still looking at the glass. “It’s lovely, Fox. I had no idea you had such an artist’s eye.”

  Fox jerked away from Sanyam’s grasp. “I don’t.” He stalked away, his back stiff, and Sanyam was left wondering what he’d said.

  Polly followed Fox down the hall, and Sanyam suppressed a pang of envy.

  “You start tomorrow,” he called after Fox.

  HE WOKE at his usual early hour the next morning and did his stretches under the window, warming up until his muscles were loose and easy. Stepping into his running shoes, Sanyam bent and tied them, then crossed the hall.

  Fox’s door was cracked just enough that a small cat could slip through, Sanyam noted, amused.

  He pushed it open a few more inches and put his head through. Fox was draped across the bed, facedown and one arm dangling off the mattress, in nothing but his boxers.

  “It’s a beautiful morning,” Sanyam said.

  Fox jerked and rolled over with a muffled grunt, presenting his sharp shoulder blades.

  “Would you like to go for a run along the waterfront with me?” Sanya
m asked.

  Fox turned and fixed Sanyam with one bleary, baleful eye. “Burn in hell forever,” he said and rolled over again.

  Sanyam managed not to laugh, biting the inside of his cheek. “I’ll make us breakfast after,” he persisted.

  Fox threw a pillow at him and pulled the remaining one over his head.

  “Suit yourself,” Sanyam said, grinning, and left him to it.

  WHEN HE came back from his run, sweating and pleasantly exhausted, Fox was stumbling out of his bedroom, still in only his boxers, his eyes squeezed shut against the light.

  Sanyam stopped dead to avoid bumping into him, but Fox didn’t seem to notice. He made a weaving line for the bathroom, the thin silk showing the curve of his ass as the sun haloed him.

  Sanyam just managed to keep his groan internal as the bathroom door closed. He wasn’t going to survive this.

  Chapter Twenty

  THAT NIGHT, Sterling stood in front of the mirror in the bathroom, glaring at his reflection. “This is going to end horribly,” he mumbled, smoothing his pants. He jumped as Sanyam knocked on the door.

  “We need to go, or we’ll miss the bus, Fox.”

  Sterling growled silently but opened the door.

  Sanyam’s eyebrows went up. “Well. I approve.”

  Sterling fought the urge to smooth the leather pants again. His shirt clung to his frame, and he felt exposed suddenly, rethinking every life decision he’d had.

  “You look very nice, Fox,” Sanyam said. The heat in his eyes made Sterling swallow, but he said nothing, running a hand that shook only a little through his hair as he scowled at Polly, who was rubbing against his ankle.

  “Come on,” Sanyam said, stepping aside. “The bus will be here in just a few minutes.”

  “Why are we taking public transportation again?” Sterling asked, giving Polly a furtive scratch behind the ears before following him down the hall. “What’s wrong with cabs?”