Only You Page 4

  The engineer ran a frustrated hand through his hair, already standing up in spikes. “Look, I don’t know for sure. The original delay was for a warning about a car on the tracks, but --”

  “A what?” Alexander shouldered a few inches in front of Zach. “Whose car?”

  “No telling yet. No one inside, no clue why they left it. Maybe it got stuck and they ditched? Shitty of them not to let us know somehow but could be there wasn’t time. Fuck me if I know.”

  “Are engineers supposed to use that kind of language?” Zach asked, fascinated and, to his embarrassment, so inappropriately. He didn’t need Alexander’s reproving glance to prompt him to grimace an apology.

  “So no one in the car was hurt. At least there’s that.” Alexander grimaced at Zach, which was an improvement from a nonverbal scolding. “I know most of the people around here. Don’t want to think of any of them in that kind of trouble.”

  He still had a kind heart. It made Zach feel somehow better to see it -- and it made him want to take Alexander’s hand and hold it. He diverted quickly into curiosity, inappropriate or not. “A car on the tracks, at first? What came second?”

  “Whatever the hell the boom was. Maybe the quarry, but there’s some nasty weather moving in, a big storm that was supposed to go up the coast but took a hard left and pointed itself this way. Might have gone through up ahead and done some damage.”

  “Not likely. It’s barely started raining, and a fallen tree wouldn’t make that much earth shake,” Alexander said. He looked grim. “Is there anything we can do to help over there? In here?”

  The engineer’s expression softened briefly before he shook his head. “Someone who doesn’t know what they’re doing, real specific-like, they’d just be in the way. Best clear out and give the professionals room to work.”

  There was a definite hint to get out of the way in his last comment. Zach tugged at Alexander’s cuff, intending to nudge him aside in case he’d missed the point. Or rather, he tried to nudge Alexander out of the way. It would have been easier to move a fallen tree with a feather. How much stronger had Alexander gotten since they were kids? Either he benched more than Zach weighed or he’d acquired the ability, like a cat in front of a keyboard, to gain as much mass as he needed to stay firmly put when he didn’t want to be moved.

  Oh God, Zach needed some sleep.

  He rubbed at his eyes. That Alexander noticed, and that took him back two steps and redirected his attention to Zach. “Are you sure you’re all right?”

  Zach swatted him aside. “I’m fine.” He risked his luck one more time with the engineer, who he frankly wouldn’t have blamed for chucking them bodily off the train by then. “Are there any cars stable enough for passengers to wait in until the train’s fixed?”

  “Too risky. All the stewards steady enough to walk are getting folks out as quick and safe as they can.”

  “Going where?” Zach blurted. He crossed his arms, trying to tug his jacket tighter, and shivered. “The station?”

  “Unless they’re local, like your boy here.” He’s not my boy, Zach started to say, but neither the engineer nor Alexander was listening.

  “Does the station have heat?” Alexander asked.

  The engineer made a face. “Looks like their power is out. It’s pretty drafty, but there’s probably blankets somewhere around and benches folks can nap on.”

  A drafty, empty station, a thin blanket, metal screeching within arm’s reach. Zach blanched. He didn’t shy away from -- much -- but he wasn’t certain he could cope with that. His head would split open or he’d shiver himself sick.

  Alexander gave him an odd look, but the engineer was still talking. “It’ll be five hours at least, maybe more, before we’re moving again. Depends on how fast we can get equipment and workers down here to get us back on track and that’s if something else doesn’t happen. Fuck knows, it might. It’s that kind of night. Clear out while the clearing’s good, that’s my advice, and if you guys would let me get back to work now before someone kicks my ass for lying down on the job?”

  “If anyone tries, send them to me,” Alexander said. He had a way about him, even now, that made the engineer’s tight shoulders relax. “I’ll let them know you had a reason. Thank you for taking the time.”

  The engineer waved him off. “Take the employee exit, if you want. Probably less crowded, but mind you’re careful of the drop-off.”

  “Good idea, and I will. Thank you again.” Before Zach knew what he meant to do, Alexander had taken his hand to tug him away. “Come on. Let’s get out of here.”

  “I wasn’t the one holding us up,” Zach protested, but he didn’t object enough to being hauled around to stay in the engineer car. Much. The thought of having to hole up in that station -- but good Lord, Alexander had long legs, and even in spaces as tight as these he could move fast. “Alexander, slow down! You’re going to pull my arm out of its socket.”

  “No I won’t, and I’m going this fast so we can get where we want before you have a chance to change your mind. Or I change my mind.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “You’ll see.” Alexander stopped in front of an exit door, far more industrial than inviting in its design, to the tilted left of the train. He glanced back at Zach. “Hold on tight to my hand, okay? Don’t look down, and don’t let go.”

  Well, that didn’t sound ominous at all, did it? But what choice did he have?

  Zach gripped Alexander’s hand tighter. “Fine, but I just survived a literal train wreck. If you get me killed now, I’m going to come back and haunt you.”

  Alexander snorted lightly. “It wasn’t a wreck. More of an accident. Still, fair enough.” He shoved the door open, and no matter how strong he might be, he really had to put his shoulder into it. “Step where I step.”

  “You’re really selling this,” Zach said, and let Alexander guide him off the train. Whistling in the dark, graveyard humor, call it what you liked. “You should go pro.”

  Alexander gave him a warning look. “I’m not joking. Step where I step, don’t slow down, and don’t look down. Got it?”

  “I don’t understand.”

  “You will.”

  He wasn’t wrong. The second Zach set foot on the ground, he understood completely. There was solid ground for them to walk on, sure, but maybe -- maybe, when measured with a generous eye -- eighteen inches between them and a narrow, rickety bridge rail the only safeguard against a fifty-foot drop into a flooded gully.

  Zach froze, unable to take another step. Surprisingly strong winds made it nearly deafening out there, but he’d have been very surprised if Alexander couldn’t still hear the rattle-bang-slam of his heart in its panic. He gritted his teeth out of sheer frustration at his own weakness, his fear of heights, then buried his face against Alexander’s back in paradoxical need for comfort. Alexander’s body hitched in a rueful I told you you wouldn’t like this sort of movement, but he pried and pulled and nudged until he’d guided Zach in front in front of him, sheltered by his body and arms.

  He put his lips to Zach’s ear. “It’ll be okay. I’ll guide you. I promise I won’t let you fall. Trust me.”

  As if he had a choice? Again? Zach would have to do as he was told and put his trust in Alexander to take care of him.

  Wasn’t that just the kind of irony fate loved best?

  Zach closed his eyes and took a step forward. One. And then, another, and one more.

  * * *

  He held his breath until they’d circled around the front of the train and were on solid ground, at least ten feet between them and the bridge, before letting go of Alexander’s sleeve -- promptly balling up his fist and socking Alexander in the ribs.

  “Hey! What was that for?”

  “As if I could hurt you,” Zach retorted. He shook out his fist. “That was -- I don’t know. It felt right.”

  Alexander rolled his eyes. “God, I love gratitude,” he muttered. “I told you to trust me. I got you ou
t of there safely, didn’t I?”

  “I didn’t say otherwise.” Damn, his knuckles stung. It’d felt more like punching a brick wall than a man, but it’d been worth it. Zach gaped at the drop-off. “Why is that even there? Aren’t they just asking for someone to take a great big dramatic nosedive right over the edge?”

  “It’s there because it’s been there since the tracks were laid down, and the straightest path was right next to the original quarry,” Alexander said tiredly. “I’ve lobbied for years to get an actual barrier there, which makes me the latest of a few generations to try. Town council won’t bite.”

  “They all have historic authenticity boners?”

  “You could say so. I’d call it stupidity, myself.”

  Zach chanced a look over his shoulder, and caught a glimpse, quickly hidden, of a fear matching his own. He stopped. Oh. Alexander been scared too, even if he hadn’t let it stop him.

  There was a certain irony in there as well, which Zach chose to tuck away and not examine -- yet. Instead, he took Alexander’s hand and gave it a quick squeeze: thank you.

  Alexander squeezed back, just as quickly. You’re welcome.

  Though it was hard to let go, Zach managed. He turned to face the station where he’d have no choice but to bunk down, first curiously and then with his fingers pressed to his lips in growing dismay. “Oh my God.”

  Drafty? Understatement. The brick building looked like it’d been slapped together by drunken builders a hundred-odd years ago, and at least three of the topmost windows were broken, probably by kids throwing rocks. He shivered -- no, shuddered -- at the imagined chill and how it would go straight down to his bones. It’d be days before he got warm again.

  You could warm up a lot faster if you wanted, a sneaky part of his mind suggested.

  Zach would have scolded himself for the stray thought if his brain hadn’t been startled into silence by the sudden, heavy, body-heated weight of Alexander’s coat being draped over his shoulders. It smelled of both Alpha and some rich, spicy cologne, and Zach couldn’t help but cuddle into its folds in immediate relief. It made him want to melt to the ground, and to dig in his heels at the same time.

  He started to peel the fabric away. “Stop it, Alexander, this is yours and you need it.”

  “Somehow, I knew you were going to do that.” Alexander settled the coat back into place and gave Zach a warning look. “Don’t. I can see how cold you are.”

  “I’m fine.”

  “Sure you are,” Alexander said dryly. He studied Zach again. “No. It’s too cold out here and it’s going to be worse in the station. You’re coming home with me.”

  Zach stared at him. “What?”

  “You’re coming with me,” Alexander said again. “No arguments.”

  “No,” Zach said without hesitating. “Not going to happen, Alex.” Damn it; he’d slipped. It was harder to get used to the grown man’s preferred name than he’d thought it would be. “Alexander. Sorry. But the answer’s still no.”

  He could see Alexander’s frustration building. “Would you put your pride away this once? I can’t go home and leave you all by yourself in the cold.”

  “It’s not about pride!” Mostly. Partially. “It’s about going with you being a bad idea, and me knowing you know as much.” Zach’s teeth chattered, and he had to clamp his jaw shut to stop it until the fit of shivers passed. He laid his hand on Alexander’s forearm. “You’re kind to offer, but I can’t. Don’t you see?”

  “I see if you don’t cooperate, I’m going to toss you over my shoulder and carry you back to my place,” Alexander said frankly. “Your choice.”

  Zach gaped at him. “You’re serious.”

  “My hand to God, I am. I swear, you’re worse than any cat in your bloodlines ever was.”

  “And you’re worse than a hunting dog!”

  Alexander crossed his arms. “Do you think I’m taking you back there to seduce you?”

  Zach’s face warmed.

  Alexander sighed and settled his coat a little more snugly around Zach’s shoulders. “It’s going to start raining again any second, you know. You need a place to warm up and stay dry while they’re fixing the tracks. I have a couch and a gas fire if the power goes out. That’s all. It’s nothing but an offer of hospitality, no funny business involved.”

  Frustrated with himself, Zach bit at his lower lip, thinking furiously while Alexander waited. He meant to say no. He did.

  He didn’t. The cold.

  What choice did he have? “All right,” Zach said, putting his hands up in surrender, and sighed. “You win. And. Thank you.”

  “There. Was that so hard?” Alexander’s ire passed as quickly as a stray breeze. “It’s a couple of blocks down the road.”

  He offered Zach his arm like a proper gentleman, and when Zach didn’t take it he shrugged and tossed it over Zach’s shoulders instead.

  Zach shook his head. “I can’t stop you, can I?”

  “You’re not the only one who can be stubborn.” Alexander led him away from the train, whistling a few casual notes that made Zach’s spine prickle in warning; no one acted so very innocent unless they had some devious plan up their sleeve. “You really didn’t know I was there? It’s funny.”

  “What is?” Zach asked warily.

  “I’ve learned to know what it’s like when someone’s watching me. Some of the places I’ve been it matters more than you’d think to pick up on it, though I guess you’d know about that too. But for miles now, I’d felt someone staring holes through the back of my head.”

  “What are you saying?”

  “Me? Nothing, really. Just saying.” Alexander tugged him left, giving him no choice. “Mine’s this way.”

  Truer words, Zach muttered to himself, but he followed Alexander anyway.

  * * *

  “You live here?” Zach whistled, staring up at the terrace house Alexander had led them to. Wall to wall with its neighbors, old, built from a darkly veined stone carved to look elegant as well as inviting. Someone took good care of the entire block. There wasn’t a cigarette butt or an empty beer can to be seen in the gutters, and all the paint on the windowsills and doors looked fresh, new. The stones themselves almost gleamed, they were so clean, and the flecks of quartz mica in them must have glittered in the daylight. “Swanky.”

  “I know what I like, and I like nice things.” Alexander guided Zach up the steps. He didn’t need to; Zach’s knees were steady -- enough -- now and the coat had warmed him up until he could breathe freely.

  Still, it would be the better part of valor to pick his fights carefully if they were going to be sequestered together for a few hours. Zach had zero doubt there would be plenty to choose from.

  “Not to your usual taste?” Alexander arched an eyebrow at Zach as he dug into his hip pocket. “What don’t you like?”

  “I didn’t say I didn’t like it, I…” Zach didn’t mind huge as a general rule; no Omega did; every one of them had at least a crumb or so of “size queen” in their stockpile of jerk-off fantasies. But this house… Alexander was a big man, but even he would rattle around in there like one dried pea in a tin can, all alone. “Do you have roommates?”

  “Not as such.” Alexander frowned as he started patting the pockets he hadn’t searched yet. “What kind of place do you have?”

  “An uptown studio. Smallish. Almost enough room for a bed and a bath, and there’s a good view of the skyline.” Zach loved his studio’s view. It made the otherwise cramped conditions worth his while. He’d wedged a small chair between bed and window solely so he could curl up in the seat with a cup of coffee and watch the sun rise or set. “It suits me.”

  “Sounds like it.” The way Alexander looked at him, even sideways, made Zach catch his breath. As unexpected -- or maybe more so, because he hadn’t seen it coming -- and as intimate as a kiss, as knowing, as personal as a hand sliding up smooth, slick skin in the middle of the night. “Sounds like you.”

  “I…�
� Zach hesitated, lost for what to say. He swallowed hard. “I wouldn’t have chosen it if it wasn’t what I wanted.”

  “Hmm. You should see the views here when they don’t involve industrial accidents.” Alexander looked away, finally, letting Zach breathe again -- but he hadn’t found what he wanted in the pockets he wore, and with a shrug started digging through the pockets in the coat he’d loaned Zach instead. “Hold on, let me…”

  Zach swatted him away in alarm. Wandering hands made it far too hard -- difficult! -- to think and if all the blood in his body divided itself equally between cheeks and dick, he wouldn’t be able to think at all. “If you’re going to do that, would you please take your coat back?”

  “No, I’ve almost got it. I know I put my keys in one of these.” He barely glanced at Zach as he added, “Keep it on, so you don’t get chilled again. Or keep it, period, if you want. It’s a good winter coat and you’re so thin I can almost see through you. You need the warmth.”

  “Flattering.” Zach twitched from side to side, trying to dodge Alexander’s touch coming too near any danger zones. “I swear, you never could find what you’re looking for, even if you’d laid both hands on it less than a minute ago and that was when you had someone to remind you of things.”

  He hadn’t meant to say that out loud. Damn.

  Alexander snorted quietly. “So imagine how bad I am when I don’t have someone to keep me on the straight and narrow. Aha. Found them.” He jingled a key ring at Zach. “Now I can actually let you in. Welcome to my humble home.”

  “You were never humble a day in your life. And by the way, you didn’t distract me. Your coat. Take it.”

  Alexander made a disgruntled noise but took the coat back and draped it over his arm as he unlocked the door. “You really are as bad as a cat.”

  “Independent,” Zach corrected. “You’re saying independence is a bad thing?”

  “See? That’s what I mean, right there.” Alexander glanced back and grinned, teasing. “No, you always reminded me of a cat. Sleek and slimlined and prickly and slinky, and…”

  Zach’s cheeks went cherry red and hot all over again. He swept his hair over his cheek and smoothed it down, his hands dancing nervously as they moved. “Yes, well. You’ve heard the old saying about herding cats, I’m sure.”