Page 3 of The Truth of Our Past

Chapter two

Alec

“Mads.” My voice bounces around the space and I hold my arms out wide as if I can embrace her from fifteen feet away.

I can’t wait to share my brilliant idea with her. It takes all my self-restraint not to blurt it out. Ever since I started volunteering at The Q Solutions, an organization focused on helping queer youth, I’ve wanted to do more. They have so many underfunded amazing programs. And I finally figured out a way to help them, Mads’s gallery, and Cole.

Mads and I hug by the seating area in the main gallery. She strategically arranged the couches in a semicircle to optimize the view of the art. She’s an incredible businesswoman with an amazing eye for talent.

I know with her on board, I can convince Cole to sell his paintings to benefit our favorite organization. The guy might be my best friend, but he’s a stubborn SOB. He refuses to sell his paintings for profit, which could be noble but is ultimately pointless.

And now it’s time to use the storage area full of canvases collecting dust to help people we care about. My head is bursting with all the ideas to support queer kids who have a terrible home life or are bullied.

“What would you say if I told you I think Cole will let you have his paintings for a charity auction?” Cole and I originally bonded over our shitty pasts, and now I manage the tattoo shop he owns, Unframed Art.

“Do not tease me, Alec. YouknowI’ve been trying for years to get him to let me do something with them. If this is a joke, I’ll never speak to you again.”

I laugh at her idle threat because she wouldn’t last more than a week without talking to me.

Jayce clears his throat and I throw my arms out as if I’m going to hug him too. Annoying him comes naturally. After all these years, Jayce still believes I’m someone Mads needs protection from.

Movement catches my eye in Mads’s office, and I can’t believe I didn’t notice the insanely hot man before. I can only see his back and a sliver of his profile, but it’s enough.

Everything slows as his sheath of blond hair tips forward, a curtain hanging down around his bowed head. I immediately have a vivid image of wrapping it around my wrist and using it as leverage to fuck. Lust pulls me up short, awestruck by his body rising from the chair. My eyes devour the broad shoulders, muscular back, and ass. A perfect ass covered in an expertly tailored suit.

He turns and my brain short-circuits. The man is a walking fantasy—a cross between a Viking and a work of art. His low brow accentuates his crystal clear, icy blue eyes. He strides with elegant grace toward Mads and Jayce, ignoring my presence.

I’ve never been more intrigued.

The man is perfection. And my next fuck.

“I will not take up any more of your time,” he says in an accent that makes me want to drop to my knees. Something I never do. He pulls a key and one of Mads’s laminated cards with an apartment lock code out of his pocket. “Are we all set? Do you mind if I take my things up to the loft?”

“Well, hello there, darlin’.” I close the distance between us until I’m standing next to him.

He presses his lips together but doesn’t say anything.

“Von, this is my flirty best friend, Alec Ivy. Alec, this is Von Blixt. He’s an artist renting the fourth-floor loft.”

“Hello,” Von says, nodding, and in his delicious accent, it sounds likehal-loa.

“Nice to meet you.” My face lights up with my I’m-going-to-take-you-to-bed look. The one that has most men eager to shed their pants like they’re on fire. “Blitz is certainly a name to live up to.”

Von nods again and is awkwardly silent. Maybe his English isn’t very good. Before I can say anything else, Mads smacks my arm.

She turns to Von while dragging me a few feet away. “Ignore Alec’s attempt to charm you. He’s an incredible friend but the king of one-night stands.”

She whisper-yells into my ear, “First of all, it’s Blixt, with an ‘x-t,’ and secondly, don’t even think about it. He’s living here. He’s off-limits. Don’t sleep with him.”

“Not a problem,” Von replies as if Mads isn’t making assumptions and talking about him behind his back, right in front of his face. He doesn’t bother looking at me, but a vein in his forehead pops out.

“Okay then,” I mutter. Her comments sting, and that doesn’t make any sense because she’s right, and it’s true. I’m not a relationship guy and I would never screw up our friendship or her business for a meaningless fuck.

We’re friends for life, having grown up together. We’re lucky we escaped our repressed little hometown and live so close. Manhattan is the perfect place for us.

My eyes focus back on Von. The unexpectedly sexy-as-sin Viking momentarily sways my good judgment. Dayyyummm. Why does this guy have to be off-limits?

“I’ll walk you out.” Jayce motions to Von, ending our confusing exchange. “There’s an elevator in the back hall that will take you up to the storage area and shared workshop, but to get to your loft, we have to go outside. For security, it has a separate entrance.”

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