An Unlocked Mind (Secrets #2)(14)

Rob’s voice broke through his reflections. “Why are you being nice?”

“I told you. Sometimes those who feel they don’t deserve something are the ones who need it the most.”

“I’m not gay,” Rob snapped, his face twisted in anger. “I won’t be spreading my legs for you.”

Vic kept his expression blank. He wondered if Rob even understood the words he’d spoken. He didn’t say he wouldn’t have sex with Vic. Instead, he said he wouldn’t let Vic fuck him. Add to that, it was the second time Rob had felt it necessary to point out his orientation, and Vic’s interest was definitely piqued. Shakespeare had nailed it, even if the gender didn’t fit this particular circumstance.

The lady protests too much, methinks. There was more about Rob to interest him than Vic had previously thought.

“I’m not interested in sex with you,” Vic replied. “I’m fairly certain I already say that.”

“You’re… not?”

Out of the corner of his eye, he could see the consternation on Rob’s face. He was a beautiful boy, Vic decided. Normally he wouldn’t look twice at someone like Rob, but there was a sadness there that called to Vic. Rob was searching for… something. His vehement claims not to be gay only served to convince Vic that Rob was in the closet. In fact, he was probably so deep, he’d barricaded himself in. Rob needed someone who would yank him from the place where he’d hidden himself.

In short, he needed Vic.

“No, I’m not. You can choose to believe it or not, but not all gay men want to pounce on every other man they see.”

Rob snorted. “If you say so.”

Then he leaned his head against the window as the world went by. By the time they’d reached Vic’s place, Rob was asleep. He was snuffling softly as Vic pulled into his garage. When Rob wasn’t being antagonistic, there was an air of vulnerability about him. It suited him much better than the anger that cloaked him.

Vic reached out and tapped Rob lightly on the shoulder. “We’re here,” he said gently, not wanting to startle him.

A yawn and Rob’s eyes fluttered open. He looked at Vic, then at the garage. He gripped the door handle tightly. “Where are we?” he asked, a hint of fear in his voice.

“My house, remember? You’re going to stay in the spare room until tomorrow, and then I’ll take you to the train station.”

Realization dawned in Rob’s eyes. “Oh, sorry. I forgot.”

“You don’t have to stay,” Vic reminded him. “I will gladly take you to the train station now, or I can drive you home.”

Rob shook his head. “No, it’s okay. I just… forgot.”

“If you’re sure. Let’s go in and get you dry.”

Rob followed behind as Vic led him into the house. The large, two-story home was Vic’s sanctuary. He never brought anyone here from the club, and only had a few friends visit. Normally this was where he’d go to shed the stresses of his job. When he was here, he decompressed from the pressures of the outside world.

So why bring Rob here?

He’d been asking himself that question the whole way home, and he still didn’t have an answer.

Vic escorted Rob to the bathroom. “You can take off your wet clothes and leave them at the door. There’s a robe hanging on the back of the door. I’ll leave your stuff outside the bedroom when they’re dry. You’ll find towels in the cupboard, and a toothbrush in one of the drawers. You’re welcome to use the soap and shampoo. When you’re done, I’ll be downstairs making some tea, if you’d like a cup before you go to bed.”

Rob shook his head, but there was none of his previous attitude. If anything, he seemed deflated.

Vic shrugged mentally. It was far too late and he was too tired to deal with it.

“Suit yourself. Your room is the one down the hall, on the right side. Last door, so you can’t miss it. I’ll lay out something for you to sleep in. It may be a bit big on you, but I can’t help that. If you need anything else, my room is along the landing. Sleep well, young Rob.”

As Vic closed the door, the patter of the shower spray began, followed by a soft sigh. Vic stared at the white door, shaking his head. Why am I doing this? Rob had been nothing but trouble since he’d laid eyes on him at the club, so what was it about the young man that drew him in so quickly? Vic tore himself away and went into his room for something for Rob to wear. Vic didn’t possess a single pair of pajamas, but he found a pair of gray shorts that would do just fine. He left them on Rob’s bed. Okay, so they’d be too big, but it wasn’t as if Rob would be parading himself around the house. That would probably be the last thing he’d do, for fear of being pounced upon by the Big Bad Gay Man.

That made him chuckle.

After ensuring the guest room had adequate fresh linens and blankets, Vic exited the room to find a heap of sodden clothing awaiting him outside the bathroom door. He scooped them up and made his way downstairs to the utility room. Vic shoved the clothes into the drier and went into the kitchen. It was too late to cook anything, but he could nibble some toast with his tea. He put two slices of bread in the toaster, then filled the kettle.

Upstairs, the bathroom door opened and closed. Then, a moment later, another door closed.

When the kettle began to boil, Vic grabbed a tea bag from the cabinet and made himself a mug of chamomile tea, buttering his toast while the concoction steeped. He half expected Rob to come downstairs, but when he didn’t, Vic finished his snack, then cleaned up after himself. The paperwork for the coming week called to him, demanding to be done, but it could wait. Right then he was weary. He’d put in nearly seventy-five hours this week, and it had finally caught up to him. He climbed the stairs, his feet dragging, and paused outside Rob’s door. All was quiet. Vic opened the door to his own bedroom, then collapsed on the bed, ready for a peaceful night’s sleep.