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  Gradually Cobalt’s breathing slowed and steadied, and he managed to get the uneven hitches under control. His erection subsided and his heartbeat calmed. The sweat that had slicked his body cooled, making him shiver. Trapped as he was, with his shirt up around his chest and his pants around his ankles, he hesitated to reach for a cover. He didn’t want to wake Cal. If things weren’t exactly peaceful, at least they weren’t trying to slice bits out of one another.

  For a while he stared into space, waiting. Eventually Cal would roll over, releasing him, content to sleep spread over the bed and free of restriction. Cobalt waited patiently for his freedom, limited as it would be without Chance or Preston to bolster him enough to leave the house.

  Chapter 12

  THE SUN was well past the edge of the bed and heading toward the late-afternoon slant that would send it careening in through the white-tiled bathroom before Cal finally rolled away from him. Cobalt slipped from the bed, noting that his ass twinged and his back gave him some stiff resistance. The muscle soreness wasn’t anything a life of ballet hadn’t taught him to deal with. He regretted the sting that told him Cal could have used more lube, though. Too late to complain about that now. He kicked his jeans off and peeled away the stained shirt and sweater to head for the bathroom.

  There were bruises on his neck, and some dried blood on his cheek where the bit of flying plastic had nicked him. His hips ached, a fact he hadn’t noticed until he’d shuffled from the bed to the shower. A good hot spray would hopefully soak most of the pains away. It would do nothing to disguise his pallor or the additional bruises on his wrists.

  Thinking back, he couldn’t remember Cal holding him down, but the bruises were there. Was it proof he had zoned out after all? Or just left over from when Cal had grabbed at him roughly to get him up there in the first place? It was no one’s fault he bruised as easily as he did. It made the hickey look more like an injury than a love bite, though. He appeared battered and ill, felt like he could sleep the rest of the day away but knew if he didn’t at least make an effort to clean up the kitchen and make a meal, Cal would complain and bitch. Cobalt didn’t have the energy to deal with a grumpy lover.

  He stepped from the shower and dried off, avoiding looking over his body for more bruises. It was what it was. They would heal. He headed for the bedroom and something to put on, deciding to search a drawer for the sleep pants Cal liked him to wear. Easy on, easy off, he always said. No fussing with ties or pins, no frilly or slippery bits. Cal was partial to his men not feeling anything like the ballerinas. Cobalt had never called him on the plural. Cal’s infidelities were old news.

  He stared at the cotton flannel in his hands. It was soft enough. The pants had pockets. They were comfortable and very manly. He tossed them on the bed, picked up his own favorite kicking-around-home outfit—a silk and satin negligee and robe—and turned his back on Cal’s sleeping form to dress.

  Donning the robe that slid pleasantly against his skin and made him happy with its dusky rose-colored flowers, Cobalt let out a relieved breath. For a moment he stood beside the bed and stared uncertainly at Cal. His lover looked content, sprawled across the bed, taking up most of the surface for his long, muscled limbs to spread in wide arcs. He was graceful, even in sleep. He looked strong and healthy. Alive.

  Carefully Cobalt ran a hand down the front of his robe, fingered the beaded fringe at the end of the belt, and turned from the view to gather up the dirty clothing and quietly leave the room. He’d stashed the laundry on top of the machine and was gently setting Preston’s tools into their box when there was a knock at the door. He started and dropped the very same X-Acto blade that had bloodied his cheek. Yet another shard of yellow plastic flew upward, arced, and landed on the welcome mat near the door.

  Preston needed something a lot more robust if just dropping the damn thing made it shatter.

  Cobalt set the tool in the box and went to the door. A flick of the curtain covering the window revealed Azure and, behind him, Preston. Cobalt’s heart stopped. He tugged the edges of his robe tighter, wishing he’d chosen the sleep pants. Azure smiled through the window and lifted an eyebrow.

  “Right.” Quickly Cobalt stepped back and unlocked the door to let them in.

  Chance nearly bowled him over with the enthusiasm of his greeting, and Cobalt would have landed on his ass if not for Preston circling an arm around his waist just in time. He banged against Preston’s chest and nearly went limp in his arms at the feel of the massive body curling around his.

  “You okay?” Preston’s voice in his ear was no help to his focus. He gasped and struggled to right himself but gave up when Chance’s bulk against his legs allowed him no room to maneuver. He let Preston rebalance him, grip firm but gentle. The contrast between this stable pressure and support and Cal’s sharp grip made Cobalt’s blood rush. He swallowed hard and folded fingers over the side of Preston’s hand, clinging to the warm point of flesh for grounding as the kitchen seemed to spin around him.

  “Coby?” Azure asked. His voice floated in the whirling air rushing in the open door and swept away. Only Preston’s warm breath on his cheek and hand in his kept him steady enough to finally find his feet. Firm flesh against his backside could have been a hip bone or tensed thigh muscle. Or something else.

  “I’m fine.” Shrugging himself upright, Cobalt forced as much edge into his voice as he could. He distanced himself from Preston, straightening his skewed robe over his bony chest and keeping his back to him. He couldn’t look at him. “I haven’t eaten much today, I guess.”

  No food and the added expenditure of energy keeping Cal happy had apparently taken their toll. Dizziness circled the back of his vision, ready to take him down the instant he misstepped.

  “I should have held on to him,” Azure said, stroking Chance’s head. “Sorry about that.”

  “It’s okay.” Cobalt took Chance’s face in his hands and lifted it. “You stop,” he admonished. “Just settle down.”

  Chance wiggled his ass down onto the floor and licked at Cobalt’s wrist, the only part of Cobalt he could reach. His little whine sank a needle of guilt into Cobalt’s heart.

  “I’m sorry, baby,” he whispered. “I really am.” He hugged the dog close and breathed in the smell of animal, letting the scent calm and soothe.

  A hand on his shoulder finally made him look up.

  Preston stood over him. “We should have called. You look like you’ve been… busy.”

  Cobalt frowned and straightened. “I’m not now.” He turned to Azure. “Why are you here?”

  “Preston wanted to return your dog, and I wanted to see about the window repairs. What happened to your face?” Azure’s hand shot out, and his grip on Cobalt’s chin was inescapable as he tilted Cobalt’s face to the light coming in the window.

  “Nothing! Get off!” Cobalt gripped Azure’s wrist just as tightly and twisted. “Don’t!”

  “You’re bleeding!” Azure’s eyes had darkened and his face flushed. “If that—”

  “It was an accident,” Cobalt growled. “Back. Off.”

  Azure’s jaw popped. Cobalt could hear his teeth grinding from three feet away, and his fingers had curled into tight fists. “Coby, I swear to God if—”

  “Please don’t,” Cobalt said. “I am a grown man. My decisions are my own. I thought we’d been over this.” He touched his cheek and found it was, indeed, bleeding again. Not much, but the smear of red on his fingers stopped his heart. “Az, your hands. Did you get any on you?”

  “Stop it.” Azure’s entire posture loosened and relaxed, and he took Cobalt’s fingers in his. “Stop. What happened to your face?” he asked, more gently this time, and carefully touched Cobalt’s cheek just under the cut. “Talk to me, little brother. What’s going on?”

  “Nothing.” Cobalt managed the denial. Even managed to keep eye contact. “Leave it alone, okay?”

  Azure flared his nostrils but backed off.

  Cobalt didn’t dare look at Preston.r />
  “Hey. What’s going on, baby?” Before Cobalt had a chance to explain anything, Cal was suddenly there, arm draped over Cobalt’s shoulder, smelling like sleep and sex.

  “Nothing.” Cobalt stiffened. “They brought Chance back for me.”

  The dog had risen, skulking forward, a low growl in his throat as he tried to pry his nose between Cobalt’s leg and Cal’s.

  Cal kneed him in the shoulder, pushing the dog into Preston, eliciting a yip and snarl. “That animal is not staying in my house.”

  “Cobalt’s dog,” Azure said, voice low and dangerous. “Cobalt’s house.” He stood tall, angling his broad shoulders to hover menacingly.

  “Az.” Cobalt placed a hand on his chest. “Stop.” He turned and placed a chaste kiss on Cal’s cheek, ignoring the churning worry and forcing a smile. “It’s okay, darling. He’ll be good.”

  “I’m only here for a few days,” Cal said, pressing his lips to Cobalt’s temple. “Just let the driver keep him for now. Hey.” He squeezed Cobalt and slid past him into the kitchen. “Tell you what.” His grin lit up his face. “I’ll stay for another day, then you and me, we can both go to New York. I open the new show in a month. New Year’s was a hit, and we’ve choreographed a whole new set of pieces. Change it up some, you know?” He drew Cobalt into his arms. “Come with me. Come dance.”

  Cobalt stared. “What?”

  “New York. We can dance. I mean, you can rehearse with me. Get back into shape. Then maybe—”

  “No… I….” Cobalt pushed himself free of Calvin’s grip. “What are you talking about? I don’t dance.”

  “Yes, you do. Dancing is your life. Come on, baby.” He snatched up Cobalt’s hand.

  “No. I don’t.” Pulling free, Cobalt placed himself with Chance between them. Azure stepped closer to his side, and Preston placed a hand on Cobalt’s back. The contact made him realize he was shivering, his skin cold against the satin robe.

  “Not dancing is like hell on earth. You know it. I know it. Baby, think about this. You can get out of this hole.” He took Cobalt by both biceps and tried to pull him around the dog, who refused to move.

  “Cal, please don’t. This is my home.” The shivering became shaking.

  “Baby—”

  “Stop calling me that! Cobalt! My name is Cobalt! Everyone calls me Cobalt.” His struggle to get free only made Cal hang on tighter.

  Cal’s nostrils flared. “Cobalt. Stop acting like a scared rabbit and think this through.” He shook him, hard. “I want you with me.”

  “And I don’t want to go!” Cobalt yanked himself free and backed up, stretching the fabric of his robe tight across his back so he could clutch handfuls of it in front. Cold and sweating at the same time, he couldn’t stop shaking.

  Chance moved to lean on him, and he leaned back.

  Cal narrowed his eyes. “Don’t want to go?” He glanced from Cobalt to Preston and back. “Why?”

  Cobalt moved his head, a minute shake. “I live here. I have a job,” he said softly. I don’t want to watch you with anyone who’ll spread their legs for you.

  “Baby.” Cal reached and Cobalt shrank back. He couldn’t go with Cal. Couldn’t go back to dancing, the tabloids, the gossip. Couldn’t leave his dog, his friends. His home. It might not be the life he’d dreamed he’d have. But it was something. It was his.

  A warm pressure at the small of his back soothed some of his shivers away, and he sighed.

  Cal’s gaze drifted past him to Preston. It glittered sharp with anger and turned back on Cobalt. “Fuck you,” Cal spat at him, poking a hard finger into his chest. “You want to stay, stay.” He forced himself into Cobalt’s personal space. “You want to fuck the driver? Go ahead.” He shoved at Cobalt’s shoulders, knocking him off-balance.

  Chance lunged. Preston moved to grab the dog and caught him just before his teeth sank into Cal’s thigh. His front feet came off the floor, and he snapped and snarled at the end of Preston’s reach.

  Cobalt flailed. There was no one to catch him when his foot caught on the step up into the living room. He crashed down on his ass and elbow in the doorway as Chance set up a frantic barking.

  In the blink of an eye, Cal had snatched a heavy wrench off the table and raised it over his head.

  “Don’t you dare!” Cobalt shrieked, diving toward him but slipping on the edge of his robe and failing to reach Cal, who turned in Preston and Chance’s direction.

  Hauling with all his might, Preston dragged the dog out of Cal’s reach. Cal stared big-eyed around the room, as though realizing what he was doing. His face paled and his raised arm shook. Then he whirled, even the act of pure violence and anger graceful, and hurled the wrench through the kitchen window. Before the deafening shatter of glass and metal subsided, he was as close to Preston as Chance would allow.

  “Fix that, handyman.” He flung an arm in Cobalt’s direction. “Fix him if you can. He’s a hot, fucked-up mess. You can keep him.” Then he was out the door, slamming it behind him. A moment later the loud roar of his car engine quickly faded off down the street.

  The spring afternoon sounds rushed in to fill the void. Children’s small, excited voices. Distant traffic and a dog barking. A cool breeze lifted the lace curtain. Someone not far away had lit a barbecue, and Cobalt smelled the savory scent of cooking meat.

  Ordinary life.

  Under him, the cold floor pressed hard against bruised bone and chilled bare skin. He had nothing on under the robe and nightie, and he pulled the material modestly closed over his thighs.

  What just happened?

  “Coby.” Azure started for him, but Cobalt held up a hand and kicked his way back across the floor.

  “Don’t.”

  Chapter 13

  PRESTON STOOD rooted, fingers clenched around Chance’s collar. Its tiny rhinestones bit into his palm. On the floor in the hallway, Cobalt stared at the door, brow furrowed.

  “Coby.” Azure scurried over to him, ignoring his protest. “Are you hurt?”

  “I’m fine.” Cobalt brushed his brother’s hands off him. “I’m fine!” He scrambled to his feet, tugged at his gown to straighten it, and tied the ties more securely. “Go home, Azure.”

  “Coby—”

  “Cobalt.”

  “Sorry. I—”

  “Please go.” Calmer than Preston would have believed him capable of, Cobalt took the dog’s collar from his grip and nudged him toward the door. “Go take my brother home.”

  “I want to know what happened after I left,” Preston insisted. “Please. Did he hurt you? Did he… do….”

  Cobalt glared at him, staring him down with narrowed eyes. “None of your business.”

  “You’re cut and bruised.” Preston brushed his cheek, but Cobalt jerked out of his reach.

  “Take. My brother. Home. Now.”

  “Cobalt.” Azure’s sharp tone met an equally cutting glare.

  “Go. Away.”

  Preston tried for his attention. “Let us—”

  “I don’t need you to do anything. Here.” He scrabbled with the last few tools, slamming them into the box. “Take your things and go.”

  “I don’t want to leave you alone,” Azure argued.

  “I don’t want you here!” Cobalt slammed the lid of the box closed. “I don’t need you here. I don’t need him, and I don’t need anything!” He shoved the box off the table. It hit the floor with a horrendous crash. Tools skittered out across the tile, their heavy metal cracking squares of ceramic and sending bits into the air. The corner of the toolbox folded in on itself and the lid flopped, one old, rusted hinge releasing with a creak and a snap.

  Chance cowered into Preston, but only for an instant. The next, he flung himself at Cobalt, nudging at him with his head, backing him out of the room and into the living room toward the couch. Cobalt tripped on a pillow on the floor and stumble-collapsed onto the sofa. Chance climbed up next to him, curled around and over him, and glared at the other two men.

 
Cobalt hugged the dog, his back to Azure and Preston. His shoulders shook. Strained sounds emanated from where he’d buried his face in Chance’s fur.

  “Coby?” Azure said, uncertainty cracking the word into splinters.

  “Just go away,” Cobalt muttered, not otherwise moving.

  “Coby, I can’t just go.” Azure approached the couch, but Chance bared his teeth at him.

  Preston stopped him with a hand on his shoulder. “Dog’s freaked out. Just wait.”

  Azure nodded curtly, his frustration and helplessness clear in his darkened blue eyes.

  “Come on.” Preston took Azure by the shoulder. “Help me with these.”

  Together they gathered up the scattered tools, closed them up in the box as best they could with the damage it had taken, and Preston herded Azure toward the door.

  “We can’t leave him alone,” Azure said.

  “We have to.”

  “He’s a mess.”

  “And he’ll get worse if he doesn’t get his way.”

  “This isn’t okay, Prest.”

  “No. It isn’t. But you know him. Hell, I know him well enough to know he’ll only throw more things—hurl more insults, dig deeper into himself—if we push.”

  “So we just leave him?”

  “He has both our numbers. And Peridot’s and Conrad’s.”

  “And if Cal comes back?”

  Preston’s chest tightened along with his fists. “If Cal comes back, I’ll rip his arms and legs off and feed them to the dog.”

  Azure’s lips twisted into a bitter smile. “Okay. We’ll go. But only for a little while. To let him calm down. I want to come back.”

  Preston nodded and carefully set the toolbox in the corner of the kitchen. “Oh yes. Only for a short while.” He lifted his voice so Cobalt could hear his next words. “I’ll take you home, swing by my place to feed my cat. Then I’ll bring him dinner.”