Page 64 of Hurricane Love

Between the video evidence and their testimony identifyingthe robber as Cody Wallace, Diego knew the man was cooked, but it wasn’t his problem as to what happened next. Just as he’d made the decision years ago, Cody had chosen to pick up that gun and do something incredibly stupid for a short-term gain. The fact that he’d threatened Wylie, the same person who’d risked his own job to keep him consistently fed, really pissed him off. And when Cody had pointed that gun at Wy, Diego thought he might really lose his shit.

Which was why Diego generally hated feelings. He much preferred having his heart solidly inside his chest, not out and about where it could get trampled or stepped on or utterly destroyed. If something had happened to Wylie, Diego would not have recovered. The events of that night had made it perfectly clear.

And what did that mean?

Back at Diego’s place and alone together at last, he was finally able to get his hands on Wylie the way he wanted and make sure he was really okay, at least in a physical sense. He’d been trembling the entire time they gave their statement, even with the spare hoodie Diego had made him wear. Now, the normally exuberant man was quiet and contemplative as he stood under the hot spray of the shower while Diego washed him.

Diego didn’t ask him what he was thinking because he honestly couldn’t handle any more emotions that night. Instead, he focused on the heft of Wylie’s muscles and the texture of his skin, visceral reminders that he was alive and well. Thank God Cody had been reasonable and had chosen not to fire that gun.

“Lean your head back so I can wash your hair,” Diego instructed, wishing to scrub every bad thought from Wylie’s head. He’d never seen Wylie scared before, and he never wanted to see it again. Wylie let out an appreciative moan as Diego’s thick fingers raked through his dark blonde hair.

“Feels good,” Wylie said as Diego massaged his head, then rinsed his hair with warm water, careful not to get any of theshampoo in his eyes. He’d washed himself already, so they were mostly finished now, but he took a few moments to simply hold the man as the warm water cascaded over them both. Wylie let his forehead drop onto Diego’s shoulder and he let out a long, shuddering sigh.

“Come on, let’s get out,” Diego said because he was exhausted as hell and dead on his feet. He shut off the water and opened the shower door for Wylie to exit first. Wylie grabbed the towel and slung it over his shoulders, then stood there in the middle of the bath mat while Diego dried himself off. He appeared to be deep in thought, on another planet completely. Was he in shock or something?

“You, like, protected me,” Wylie said as Diego took the towel from him and started gently drying his hair, careful not to pull too hard on the wet strands.

“You weren’t even supposed to be there. I shouldn’t have left the back door unlocked,” Diego chastised himself, again.

“We always leave that door open. How the hell are we supposed to haul trash to the dumpster if it’s locked?” Wylie argued.

“Guess I’m going to have to figure that out,” Diego muttered. New safety protocols were being put in place in light of the incident, and Frank would be calling a mandatory staff meeting to go over them all. He’d warned him already.

“If anything it’s my fault for always feeding him,” Wylie said. “Should I have told Frank about that? I mean, it’s not like he can fire me.”

“You were doing a good thing. I’ve never known Cody to be violent before.” Though he had known him to be a thief. They both had. Diego really didn’t want to think about his former self, but he felt it was important to say, “Addicts can be unpredictable.”

“He seemed out of his mind,” Wylie said. “Almost like, he wasn’t even himself.”

Diego had recognized that whale-eyed mania, thinking youwere invincible. He could practically taste the bitter bite of cocaine at the back of his throat, the phantom rush of a high so perfect, you’d sacrifice anything to experience it again. A devil’s bargain, one that you were bound to lose.

Diego didn’t like to lecture, but he couldn’t let it go unsaid, “Listen, Wy, when you get up there to Gainesville, and there’s people around you telling you that you need to take drugs to stay awake or party or be at your peak performance, whatever the fuck it is they claim, don’t do it.”

Wylie blinked his beautiful blue eyes and stared at him for a long moment before saying, “Okay.”

“I’m serious.”

“I know you are. I don’t mess with drugs. Never have, except nicotine and weed and shrooms and LSD. Molly but only when I’m out at a rave.”

Diego growled with frustration. Even that was too risky. “Any of that shit could be laced with something else.” God forbid Wylie take something cut with fentanyl and fucking die on him. “Get your weed from the dispensery where it’s legit. And don’t fuck with pills.”

“I know. I know. And you’re right.” He laid his hands on Diego’s shoulders to calm him. It would have to do, and besides, it wasn’t like Diego could make these demands. He wasn’t his dad. Wasn’t even his boyfriend because they werejust friends.

It was nearing two in the morning, and Diego had to say goodbye to Wylie the next day. This wasn’t how he’d intended their last night together to go, and he wasn’t looking forward to tomorrow either. Their time together was ticking away by the second, but he was so goddamn tired.

As if sensing his exhaustion, Wylie said, “You look beat. Let’s go to bed. We can talk more in the morning.”

Diego appreciated the grace and that Wylie hadn’t mentioned the “L” word once since he’d said it. Diego’s fault too. He shouldn’t be sending mixed messages, not that he was confused on that front. He knew his own feelings for the man were real, butthat wasn’t enough of a reason to alter the plan. Wylie was leaving. He was starting a new life in Gainesville. That was it.

Still naked from the shower, they climbed under the cool bedsheet with the AC doing its level best and ceiling fan turned on high. Even with Wylie’s octopus arms wrapped around him, Diego was content. This might be his last opportunity to be held by the man he loved.

“I didn’t like that Frank blamed you,” Wylie said softly while nuzzling the back of Diego’s neck, one of their many nighttime rituals.

“No, me neither,” Diego admitted. He didn’t say it to Wylie, but he probably deserved the suspicion, just based on his past behavior, though he’d really hoped that he and Frank had moved beyond all that.

“You really took care of me tonight,” Wylie said. “I was so stunned and terrified, I didn’t know what to do.”

“Thank you for letting me handle it. If he’d hurt you…” Diego didn’t want to finish that thought. He would have fallen apart. Just broken into a million little pieces.