Page 51 of Sapphire Storm

It was their usual refrain, and once he performed his part,she laughed warmly and tightened her embrace. Then, after a long silence thatwent from feeling comfortable to strained again, she said, “Sometimes the pathto doing what we love is lined with things we really don’t love.”

He couldn’t disagree.

“And I know your mom would want you to live at your fullpotential,” she added quietly.

Her words went off like a bomb inside of him, blasting himbackward in time.

It hadn’t been her intention, he was sure, but he was seeingthe despairing look on his mother’s face the day he told her he was droppingout of college to try to make a go of it in LA. The fear that he’d spend therest of his life struggling to pay the rent while being verbally berated by aseries of managers and disloyal clients at a series of low-end gyms.

Which is exactly what he’d be signing up for again if hetold Diana Peyton no.

Rachel’s embrace was warm, but inside Roman felt very cold.

There was nothing more Ethan could do. He’dencouraged Roman to tell the truth, set the meeting in motion, and if theordeal left Roman devastated, Ethan would have no choice but to offer him ashoulder to cry on. And a guest bedroom. And a week’s worth of lean steaks andchicken breasts currently marinating in his fridge. And that was fine. Theirshoulders were not the body parts he’d wisely declared off-limits.

He gave himself over to the only thing capable of occupyinghis thoughts as he anxiously awaited word from villa 9E—design. The first fewpencil strokes of a botanical-themed anniversary cake were shaping up nicelywhen the door to the pastry kitchen flew open, slammed shut, and a breathlessRoman was suddenly standing behind him. “I need you to teach me how to be ahooker!” he gasped.

“Roman!”Ethan shot to his feet and moved swiftlyto ensure the door was firmly closed.

“No one’s out there. Relax.”

When he demanded to know how the meeting had gone, the storycame tumbling out of Roman in a rush. “So obviously I’m going to do it,” Romanannounced once he finished the tale.

Ethan needed a moment to catch his breath. “Obviously?”

“Well, why not? I mean, this is good news, right? It’s allgood news.”

“And you think this will become better news if I teach youhow to escort?”

Roman held up a finger as if he had a very important pointto make, but all he said was, “Trade secrets.”

Ethan waited for more. “Excuse me?” he finally said.

“Saturday night, at your apartment. You said you knew sometrade secrets to make difficult clients easier to deal with. Well, Scott’spretty damn difficult, so you’re going to teach me how to make him lessannoying so that I can have sex with him.”

“I’m not teaching you how to have sex with anyone.”

“I’m not asking you to teach me how to havesexwith him. I’m asking you to teach me how not to barf when I do.”

“The nature of your request is not lost on me. But it’s alsonot very achievable. I can’t make you into a whole new person. Ishouldn’tmake you a whole new person. Look, I have a different relationship to sexualitythan you do. And your relationship to sexuality is perfectly fine and healthy,and you shouldn’t change it just to accommodate thisinsanesituation.”

Roman furrowed his brow. “Are you aromantic?”

“Excuse me?”

Roman waved one hand through the air. “Nothing. It’ssomething Rachel said. Whatever. Look, it’s six months. Six months of sleepingwith someone who’s actually really hot when he keeps his mouth shut anddoesn’t, like, you know…doanything. I can make it work.”

Six months, Ethan wanted to point out, was actually quite along time in most circumstances, but Roman seemed hellbent on his new plan, andEthan knew if he argued the minor details the man would only become moreobstinate. So he went after the big picture instead. “It’s not about Scott,Roman. It’s about Diana. Say yes to this and who knows what she’ll hit you withnext.”

“Well, once I have my inheritance back, it won’t matter.”

“And the promotions she’s paying for and all of thefollowers?”

“I don’t care about any of that.” Roman swallowed, and Ethancould see the roil of painful emotions he was hiding behind his energeticplans. “I care about…my mom.”

Ethan waited for him to elaborate, but he didn’t. Hecouldn’t, it seemed. Was he talking about the inheritance, or something biggerand more complicated? Saturday night he’d broken down over the thought thathe’d disappointed her by dropping out of Cal Poly. The buildup to those sobshad made him look a lot like he looked now.

“Ethan,” Roman finally said, “if you really want to help me,you’ll give me what I’m asking for, not what you think I should be asking for.”

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