Page 40 of Bull's Boy

“Should I leave when that happens?” Kevin asked, a shit-eating grin on his handsome face. “That way, you can be alone with all your boyfriends.”

Lukas stuck his tongue out at him. “Like Hank even notices me when I’m next to you.”

Shaking his head with a smile, Bull promised to stop by when the guys got there and then slipped away. He knew better than to get sucked into one of their snarky fights.

Circling the dining room, he checked on a few regulars, making mental notes of who looked about finished. At one of the small two-tops in the center of the room, tiny Mrs. Faraway had an almost empty coffee cup and still half a plate of food.

“Hi, Mrs. Faraway, how’re you doing?” he asked, making sure to speak clearly since the woman was at least half-deaf.

“Very poorly,” she said without missing a beat, peering up at him from under her white permed hair. Behind her wrinkles, her eyes sparkled with mischief. At ninety-six, she was still sharp as ever, bringing herself out to Bo’s three times a week for a meal.

“I’m sorry to hear that,” he said, knowing what was coming but playing along. “Is there something I can get you to make your day better?”

“A couple of hot, young studs like yourself should help,” she said, grinning.

Pressing his lips together, he did his best to nod solemnly. “I’ll see what I can do. Until then, how about some more coffee?”

She sighed dramatically. “I guess I’ll settle for that. Leaded, dear, none of that decaf nonsense the pink-haired one tried to pawn off on me.”

He had no idea how she’d lived so long drinking coffee all day, every day, but who was he to deny her at this point. “Yes, ma’am. I’ll be right back.”

He was at the drinks station, just grabbing the carafe, when Malcolm popped up next to him, a scowl darkening his face. “I would have appreciated a heads-up if you were already dating somebody.”

“What?” Bull turned to face him, positive he’d misheard.

Malcolm’s mouth twisted into a mulish expression. “I said,” he repeated, his voice rising just enough for Bull to glance around, checking if they were drawing attention, “I would have appreciated a heads-up if you were already?—”

“What are you talking about?” Bull cut him off, setting the carafe back down.

“That guy,” Malcolm hissed, gesturing toward the crowded dining room. “The one who hugged you and touched your arm.”

Bull knew who he meant, and yet his mind went blank as he realized with a jolt that Malcolm was jealous. Not just annoyed or angry at what he perceived as being misled. He thought Bull was in a relationship with another guy, and it had bothered him so much he’d made a small scene about it.

“Come with me,” Bull said, voice low. They were nipping this in the bud now.

He went to put a hand on Malcolm’s elbow to steer him, but he jerked out of his hold, stomping away. Bull stood there, frozen in place for a second. A lick of hot, possessive outrage surged inside him, and he had to squeeze his hands into fists to stophimself from making his own scene by reminding Malcolm just how much he’d liked his hands on him yesterday.

He forced it back down. It wasn’t the time or the place, nor did he have the right to get upset. Whatever was happening between them was brand-new, and Malcolm was feeling insecure and was lashing out.

In the future though, they’d be discussing boundaries and how getting shrugged off had felt for him.

Unsurprisingly, Bull found Dahlia’s wide eyes not too far away. He pointed at the coffee and then at Mrs. Faraway. She nodded and hurried over, but he didn’t stick around to hear anything she might have to say, following Malcolm and catching up just as he reached the office.

Once they were both inside, Bull closed the door behind them, planted his hands on his hips, and said clearly, “I’m not dating anyone else.”

Malcolm rolled his eyes with such gusto Bull was surprised he didn’t fall over. “Oh, excuse me. I guess if you’re just fucking him, you probably don’t consider it dating.”

“Malcolm—”

He sliced his hands through the air and stepped closer, craning his head back to hold Bull’s gaze. “I guess this is my fault. I should have asked if you were fucking anybody else before putting your dick in my mouth.”

The words hung in the air around them for a long moment, Bull’s cock twitching in his jeans at the mere reminder. Malcolm’s face was flushed, his dark blue eyes red-rimmed. Thesight of his pain was like a knife to Bull’s stomach, and the last of his own lingering hurt drained away.

“Baby boy,” Bull said softly. “I’m not fucking anybody else. I’m not interested in fucking anybody else.”

Malcolm licked his lips, squinting a little. “Who was that, then? I’ve seen him in here before.”

“That’s Lukas, and yes, he’s been here before. I always say hi whenever he or his husband”—Bull carefully enunciated the words—“stop by.”

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