Warlock - Jericho's Boys #5 - ch. 3 (Patreon)

Unbeta'd/Unedited. Tomorrows Lake Matty chapter will pick up on their side of the call.

Cree

Cree was hyperaware of Jordan beside him the whole drive to Hicks’ place. He’d been suspiciously quiet, staring out the window like he was trying not to make eye contact, like if he looked at Cree too long something big and irreversible might spill out between them. Cree couldn’t tell if he was nervous or anxious or if he was just trying to slow down the boulder that was their soon-to-be relationship. He would never tell Jordan that’s how he thought of them, because he wasn’t sure he could put into words what he meant. Words weren’t his thing. 

At all.

How did Cree tell him that what he felt for Jordan was heavy? Not suffocating. Not overwhelming. Just…inevitable. Halloween night those feelings had been teetering on the edge of the mountain but Christmas had pushed them over. Now that boulder was barreling down a steep incline straight at them like something out of an Indiana Jones movie.

He wasn’t afraid of those feelings. And he wasn’t afraid of Jordan having doubts. Who wouldn’t? Jordan had his own baggage from his family’s abuse. Cree had baggage too, but the one benefit of knowing your parents didn’t love you was it honed your intuition. Neglect had made him trust his instincts. What choice did he have when he’d been forced to raise himself? You either learned to read danger fast or you didn’t survive it.

He’d texted Lake to get an update on Matty but he’d received no answer. They were probably in bed already. Only two things came from the level of contempt Matty seemed to have for Lake: fighting or fucking. And if Cree knew anything about his friend, it was that he was a lover, not a fighter.

He shook the thought away. Matty was Lake’s problem or Lake was Matty’s problem. Either way, for now, Jordan was Cree’s only concern and he was clearly concerned about this Hicks person. Jordan seemed to carry worry like other people carried backpacks. And even though Cree was side-eyeing his worry about this friend a little too much, if Jordan wanted to find him, then Cree would help him.

They were halfway across the apartment complex parking lot when Jordan finally started talking.

The asphalt radiated heat beneath their feet, the winter sun reflecting off the windshields of parked cars. Cree adjusted his pace automatically to match Jordan’s shorter stride. 

“It’s weird that he’s just disappeared,” Jordan said, frowning like he was thinking out loud, or maybe he was just squinting against the offensively blinding sun.

“Because he was supposed to meet you last night?” Cree prompted.

Jordan nodded, then seemed to hesitate. “It’s not just that. He’s been weird. Jumpy. Almost paranoid since he started working on this whole secret society thing. He said the school warned him not to run the story but he was gonna do it anyway. That it was too big to ignore.”

That got Cree’s attention.

“How well do you know this Hicks guy?” Cree asked, jealousy seeping into his tone against his will.

Jordan glanced up at him, the corners of his perfect mouth twitching like he was fighting a smile.

Yeah. He definitely heard it.

Did he like that Cree was jealous? He’d never thought of himself as a jealous person, but the idea of someone stealing Jordan’s attention had Cree feeling…grumpy. Unreasonably so, like someone had taken something that already belonged to him.

“We’ve worked with him before. The stuff we do…the people we help…back in high school, we were doing it on our own. But here, especially at Ellory, some information is harder to find. Hicks seems to know everybody’s business. We don’t know how and he won’t tell us but he seems to just…know things. So, he helps us find information we need and we give him stories to use in the paper warning students who not to trust.”

“How does he get away with that?” Cree asked. “I’m assuming the school doesn’t want these sorts of stories seeing the light of day?”

“Blind items,” Jordan said. “He doesn’t name names, just gives enough information for people to guess who he’s talking about. It’s gotten his ass kicked before. He usually wears it like a badge of honor. He says reporters have to be willing to risk their lives for a good story.”

Cree huffed softly. 

“Has he ever just ghosted you before?” Cree asked, holding the door for Jordan to enter the lobby ahead of him.

“No, never. I mean, he’s canceled plans before, but never just not shown. Also, his phone’s off…or dead. It goes straight to voicemail.”

They looked at the wall of small boxes with their numbers neatly typed across the small white plate on the front. None of them had names.

“How do you plan on finding his apartment number now?” Cree asked.

Jordan shrugged. “Ask?”

Cree looked around. “Ask who?”

Jordan spun in a circle, taking in the lobby and the hallway directly ahead, noting the plastic sign that pointed people in the direction of the laundry rooms, the gym, the pool. 

“Come on,” Jordan said, taking Cree’s hand and practically dragging him along.

Cree didn’t even pretend to resist.

Halfway down the first floor hallway was another small corridor that led to an indoor swimming pool. The smell of chlorine and sunscreen was jarring. Sunlight beamed through the glass panels overhead, reflecting off the water in bright, blinding ripples that bounced across the tiled walls. It was warm inside, like a greenhouse. 

Jordan marched right over to the only person out there, a girl in the smallest white bikini Cree had ever seen. When they blocked her sun, she pulled down her sunglasses, giving them a dirty look and a quick once over before dismissing them.

“No thanks, I have a boyfriend,” she said, almost like she was used to having to rebuff strange men on the regular.

Jordan didn’t miss a beat, just held up their combined hands. “Yeah, honey, me too. You’re not special.”

Cree’s heart swan-dived off the high jump at his words.

Did he just call Cree his boyfriend? Was that just a ploy to get her to relax around two guys lurking in her space? Did Cree care why? Not really. He just wanted to hear Jordan say it again. Preferably slower. Maybe while looking directly at him.

The girl blinked at him for a solid thirty seconds before seeming to deflate, swinging her legs over the side.

“Oh, thank god. What’s up? Why are you blocking my sun on the first non-cloudy day?”

“Do you know Cameron Hicks?” Jordan asked, plopping down on the chaise beside hers to allow her to once more absorb the sun’s rays.

She sighed, then laid back down, sliding her sunglasses back into place. “Biblically.”

Jordan perked up instantly.

“Is he your boyfriend?” Jordan asked, sounding more like he was fishing for salacious gossip than investigating someone’s disappearance.

“Hardly,” the girl said. “He was screwing half the residents in this place and I’m pretty sure even two of the second shift security guys.”

Cree blinked. Well. That explained the confidence and likely how he just seemed to ‘know’ things.

“Did that piss people off?” Cree asked.

Because if Hicks had been sleeping with half the building, Cree suddenly had a long list of potential suspects.

If something had happened to him, it would be good motivation, possibly even the most popular one when violence was involved. He didn’t think the article dropping and Hicks’ disappearance was a coincidence but it didn’t pay to jump to conclusions.

“Why would it ? Cam was a whore, but he was super up front about it. We all knew who we were crawling into bed with. He was just too fuckable for any of us to care. He was really good with his hands…and other things. He was the first guy I ever fucked that was so good I recommended his dick to other people,” she finished wistfully.

Cree had never heard anyone use fuckable as an adjective before but he supposed he'd also never had sex with anyone so good he felt the need to leave a review. Ellory students were a different breed.

“Have you seen him recently?” Cree asked. “Like in the last twenty-four hours?”

She seemed to think about it before shaking her head. “No. I took him off my roster three months ago. But you could probably throw a stick and hit three other people he fucked, just not now cause almost everyone’s in class.” 

Why wasn’t she in class?

“Do you know which apartment is his?” Jordan asked. “We need to find him.”

Her brows knit together above her expensive sunglasses. “Find him? Is he, like, missing?”

“We’re not sure,” Jordan said. “He was supposed to meet us last night but just…didn’t show.”

“Yeah, that’s not like Cam. He’s annoyingly meticulous about etiquette shit. One of his many quirks. He’s in 319. Third floor, second hallway, third apartment from the end.”

“Thanks,” Jordan said, making to stand.

“Hey, you go to Ellory, too, right?” she asked, sliding her glasses down her almost too-perfect nose.

Jordan nodded. “Yeah.”

She assessed Cree for just long enough to make him want to squirm before she smiled. The kind of slow, predatory smile that said she knew exactly what she was doing.

“If you’re ever looking for a third…even for a night…”

Before Cree could recover from his surprise, Jordan was already shaking his head. “Sorry. You're hot and all, but I didn’t even enter the world through a vagina, I have no intention of visiting one now.”

“Oh well,” she said, boredom creeping into her voice. “I’m Leticia, by the way. Fashion and merchandising. My friends call me Tish.”

“Jordan, music program,” he said. “This is Cree.”

She bit her bottom lip, letting it slide out slowly from between snowy white teeth before asking, “And what’s your major?”

“Film production and photography, but I don’t go to Ellory,” Cree said.

Technically, he no longer went anywhere, but she didn’t really need to know that.

“Too bad,” she said cryptically. “When you find Cam tell him to call me…I miss him. Well, parts of him.”

“So you don’t have a boyfriend?” Cree asked. 

“Like Cam, I have a roster. I just didn’t want to be bothered by two randos while I’m trying to work on my tan.” She looked at Jordan’s face. “No offense but the bruises make you look a little sus.” 

“None taken. See ya, Tish,” Jordan said, once more tugging Cree along with him.

“Bye, Jordan,” Tish called back, waving like she was on the deck of a ship departing from her port.

Only once they were safely back inside the building did Jordan sigh, falling back against the wall. The hallway suddenly felt quiet after the echo of their words bouncing around the empty enclosed space.

“Damn, she was…”

“Aggressive?” Cree suggested.

Jordan grinned. “I was gonna say assertive. She’s scary. I like her.” Cree wasn’t sure what his face did but Jordan’s ears went pink. “As a friend, pookie. I don’t do girls. Well, I don’t do anyone, but especially girls.”

Pookie? Cree would’ve killed any of his friends for calling him that even as a joke, but with Jordan, he felt his face growing hot. “Mm,” he managed, not trusting himself to say more. Not trusting the ridiculous surge of relief warming his chest either.

Jordan giggled, then shook his head. “Come on, you big baby.”

Cree was glad Jordan was walking ahead of him—their fingers still intertwined—so he couldn’t see the stupid smile on his face just from Jordan calling him things like ‘pookie’ and ‘a big baby’. He would happily be Jordan’s pookie or his baby. He’d be his anything, really.

Which was probably alarming considering they’d been on exactly two kinda dates.

It was a testament to how far gone Cree was that he hadn’t even considered how they might enter Hicks’s apartment once they were there. It was clearly an apartment building full of college students. The outside of the doors were decorated, some with sports teams, some with sorority houses, some with fake potted plants and plastic flamingos. But the majority just had welcome mats with quirky sayings. Hicks’s doormat said COME BACK WITH A WARRANT in big block letters that had been worn thin by foot traffic.

Cree snorted. It seemed appropriate given the situation.

Unlike the other apartments, there was a small black metal box that looked almost like a post office box attached to the wall beside his door. There was a slot in the middle and a lock at the top. 

“What is that?” Cree asked.

Jordan frowned. “I don’t know.”

He knocked but, as suspected, nobody came to the door. The hollow sound echoed down the quiet hallway.

Jordan reached into his pocket. “Can you keep an eye out so I can pick his lock?”

Cree gawked at him. “Pick his lock? Easy Houdini. It’s like eleven in the morning.”

“Yeah,” Jordan said like it was obvious. “but this is a building full of college students. Most of them are in class right now.”

“Still,” Cree said, looking around at the empty hallway, every closed door suddenly feeling like a pair of ears pressed to the wood.

He was much more comfortable doing his shady things in the dark. With a plan. And backup. And preferably a weapon.

“What do you want me to do? Open it with the power of friendship?” Jordan shot back in a snarky whisper.

Cree snorted, raising his hand to run it along the top of the doorframe, rolling his eyes when he felt the key. He showed it to Jordan, watching his face fall.

“Why would he be stupid enough to leave a key over the door? Especially with his list of enemies?” Jordan asked, unlocking the door and turning the knob.

“Did you think to look there?” Cree asked.

“No, it’s too obvious,” Jordan countered.

Cree smiled. “Exactly why nobody would ever think to look there.”

“That’s the first place I’m looking when I have to break into your place,” Jordan said with a sneaky little smile that made Cree’s heart pound harder.

Cree cornered him against the doorframe, pressing his lips to his ear. “I’ll give you a key.”

Jordan gasped like his words were scandalous, then pushed him away so he could pull them both inside and shut the door.

As soon as they saw the place, Jordan paled.

It was a mess. Not the lazy chaos of a college apartment, but something sharper. Intentional. It looked like the kind of thing people did when they wanted you to believe there had been a robbery. Drawers were pulled open, papers strewn on the floor, a vase was smashed on the kitchen linoleum, there was glass everywhere. The sharp smell of dust and ceramic hung in the air, like the room had been violently disturbed and then abandoned.

There were no flowers so there was likely no water in the vase. If there had been, maybe they could have gauged how long ago they’d broken in.

“This is weird, right?” Jordan said, scanning the place. “It looks staged. Doesn’t it?”

Cree’s chest bloomed with something that felt like…pride. Which seemed a bit condescending considering Jordan and Matty’s side gig, but Cree couldn’t help it. Jordan was just so good at everything, even petty crime. That should be celebrated. Cree was willing to bet nobody had ever celebrated any of Jordan’s accomplishments. Except maybe Matty. And Cree wanted very much to be the second person who did.

“Yeah, that’s what I was thinking too. And it’s working because we have no idea if anything is missing or not. And if something was missing, we don’t know if your friend took it with him or whoever did this to his place did.”

“Still we should look around,” Jordan said, stepping carefully over the torn couch cushions on the floor.

“I’ll check the bedroom,” Cree said.

Jordan nodded. “I’ll check…whatever this closed door is over here.” He gestured to said closed door. Probably a bathroom.

Cree wished he had a weapon of some kind. In retrospect, this now seemed like a hasty plan. But, to be fair, he hadn’t expected to go to Jordan’s friend’s place and find a crime scene.

Had Hicks left of his own volition? Was someone else looking for him too? Were they looking for something else? Hicks had to have information—research, photos, documentation—on this secret society if he felt comfortable enough calling it out publicly, especially after the school had told him not to.

Cree moved slowly through the bedroom doorway, automatically checking corners, behind the door, under the bed. Old habits. His bedroom gave nothing away. Whoever was staging the crime scene seemed to have given up in the bedroom. The bed looked slept in and a few drawers had been emptied onto the floor but it looked like they’d been interrupted and hadn’t gotten to the other side of the room.

One nightstand was knocked sideways, but the lamp on the other still sat perfectly upright. The bookshelf across the room was untouched. Whoever did this had been looking for something specific—or they’d run out of time.

He was about to go check on Jordan when he heard it.

A thud from the closet, followed by a pitiful whine.

He frowned, treading closer quietly. Did Hicks have a pet? He really hoped he wasn’t about to fall for an assailant’s trick and get his ass beat by some closet-dwelling psychopath.

His hand hovered near the closet handle for a second, listening. Another tiny, desperate sound scratched from the other side. He ripped the door open only to find…nothing.

He looked into the crammed closet. Hicks had more clothes than Adam, all crammed into a small space. Shoes were piled so high in the bottom, he wasn’t sure how they hadn’t all come tumbling out like an avalanche when he’d opened it.

He was sure he’d heard something.

He dropped to his knees only to find not one, but two tiny creatures staring back at him.

“Hi,” he cooed in his babiest of voices. “Hi, come here. Who put you in there?”

The two kittens came out together. Or rather rolled out, stumbling over leather and shoelaces. They were small. Babies. Cree didn’t know much about animals but he’d bet money they were barely two months old.

One was a shorthair in various shades of brown and white with pretty orange eyes. A calico, Cree guessed. The other was the same coloring but fluffier, like he’d been tumble-dried, his long hair standing up all around him. Same kitten, different fonts.

They blinked up at him with enormous watery eyes, little noses twitching, tiny paws stepping cautiously over the pile of shoes. They had on little pink collars. One said Nellie, the other Bly. The names sounded familiar, like they belonged to a celebrity but he couldn’t place where he’d heard them before.

“I didn’t find anyth—Oh my god, are those kittens?!?!” Jordan all but screeched, racing to him before dropping to his knees beside Cree.

“Oh my God,” he wailed, then began simpering at them in a way that, quite frankly, made Cree a little envious. “Hi. Hello. Hi, my sweetest babies. Did someone put you in a closet? Poor things. That’s okay. You’re safe now. We’ll take care of you.”

The kittens immediately climbed into Jordan’s lap like they’d been waiting their entire short lives for him specifically. He scooped them both up and rubbed his face between the two, who peeped pitifully then bumped their heads into his. Cree felt like his heart might explode from the cuteness. The tiny sounds they made were ridiculous—high, squeaky complaints that immediately turned into happy little chirps once Jordan started petting them. 

Jordan’s gaze snapped to his. “I’m not leaving them here.”

Cree was so surprised by the venom in his voice, he started laughing. “I wouldn’t expect you to. Something has happened to your friend, clearly,” he said, gesturing to the mess. “We can’t just leave them here.”

Jordan nodded, still rubbing the cats all over himself like a ritual. One kitten climbed halfway up his chest while the other burrowed under his chin like it had already decided Jordan was home.

“I thought maybe he’d run and staged it himself to throw off whoever might be looking for him, but there’s no way he would have left these sweet little babies behind,” Jordan said, looking almost blissful when they started to purr loudly.

“Their names are Nellie and Bly,” Cree said, not knowing what else to say.

Jordan snickered. “Of course they are.”

“What do you mean?”

Jordan smiled. “She was a journalist. Do you remember learning about the reporter that got herself tossed in a mental institution back in the day to expose how badly patients were treated? That was her. She also took a trip around the world in under 80 days breaking the fictional record of Jules Verne. I had to do a paper on her in seventh grade. She was cool.”

Cree nodded. He did know about that. The expose about the asylum anyway. He hadn’t known her name. Or maybe he had. It didn’t matter. The only thing that mattered was Jordan’s bright face and goofy smile as he babied the two kittens.

He knew Jules Verne though. Around the World in 80 Days—as well as many variations—had played at the old theatre plenty of times. Jordan’s excitement made the whole explanation feel brighter somehow, like the story mattered more because he was telling it.

“What do we do now?” Cree asked.

“We go shopping for kitten stuff, duh,” Jordan said with a smile.

Cree shook his head. “You know your friend’s going to want his kittens back when we find him.”

Jordan gave a sad sigh that had Cree wanting to go buy him a basket of kittens like Avi had done for Shiloh.

“I know,” he said sadly. “But in the meantime, they need food and…I don’t know…cat stuff.”

He looked down at them helplessly like the responsibility had already fully landed on his shoulders.

“What do we do about your friend Hicks?” Cree asked, staring at the two fluff balls already starting to fall asleep in Jordan’s lap.

“Call Matty and make it his problem for a few hours?” Jordan asked. “I’m really tired.”

The adrenaline that had been carrying him all morning was clearly wearing off. His shoulders slumped and he looked like he might fall asleep sitting up if given the chance.

Cree nodded. “Okay, I guess we’re going shopping then home for a nap.”

“Yay.”

Jordan carried the two kittens to the car with them, Cree opening the door for him so he could slide into the passenger seat, then helping him buckle his seatbelt so he didn’t have to release his new favorite snuggle hostages. Jordan didn’t even seem to notice Cree doing it, too focused on keeping the kittens settled.

He looked up the nearest pet store, then put the car in drive while Jordan called Matty.

“‘m sleepin’,” Matty mumbled into the phone.

“Alone?” Jordan asked, knowingly.

“Nosey,” was Matty’s sleep-soaked response.

“Who is it?” they both heard Lake ask, sounding far too close to not be in bed with Matty.

There was a shift and what sounded like an attempt to cover the phone. “Shh.”

“We already heard him,” Jordan said in a sing-song voice. “I can’t believe you fucked him after you get your skull kicked in Why are you so horny all the time?”

Matty snorted, ignoring Jordan’s question. “He wishes.” Cree wondered if he was referring to Lake or the guy who beat Matty up. “And who got their skull kicked in? Only one of us is in a hospital bed right now and it ain’t me.”

“Yeah, yeah yeah, you’re a superhero. We get it,” Jordan said dryly. “Listen, Hicks isn’t just not home, someone staged his apartment to look like it was burglarized. We have no idea if anything was taken.”

“But you know it was staged?” Lake asked. “Could he have done it himself?”

“Stop eavesdropping,” Matty grumbled, words muffled by what Cree could only assume was his hand over the phone.

“Put it on speakerphone and I wouldn’t have to,” Lake countered, sounding like he was at the bottom of a tin can.

“Uh, fine,” Matty said. “We’re both here,” he added begrudgingly.

“We don’t think he did it himself. We found his two cats in the closet,” Cree said. “He doesn’t seem the type to leave two animals to starve.”

“What do you want to do next?” Jordan asked Matty. “His phone’s off…or the battery died. Either way, this doesn’t feel right. Even one of his hookups said that Hicks would never no-call-no-show on us. He didn’t even do that to his hookups. The vibes are way off on this one.”

“Meaning?” Matty asked, sheets shuffling once more. There was a quiet grunt like someone had elbowed him.

“Meaning I think you need to SIM swap him,” Jordan said.

“Can you do that?” Lake asked, sounding wary and begrudgingly impressed.

“He can do anything,” Jordan said proudly.

Cree smiled, shaking his head at the way Jordan beamed at the phone. Like Matty could actually see the expression from across town.

“If you’re wrong, we’ve just left him completely helpless,” Matty said.

“But if his phone’s off—for whatever reason—he’s already helpless,” Jordan countered. “There’s no way he ran. Not without his pets. He would have at least left them with a friend or something.”

Matty groaned. “Fuck. Fine. I’ll do it. You know it’s gonna take a while. I have to deep dive into his personal data first.”

“That’s fine. We have to go shopping,” Jordan said happily.

“Shopping?” Lake and Matty said at the same time.

Jordan nodded once more like they could see him. “Yeah, we took his babies. They need food and a litter box. They need stuff.”

There was a long pause before Matty said, “You know I’m allergic to cats.” 

Jordan flushed, his voice going whiny as he said, “I couldn’t just leave them. They’re so little.”

Cree wondered if he would be that whiny in bed, then immediately felt like a creep. The thought arrived fully formed and uninvited, making him grip the steering wheel a little tighter.

“They can stay with me…us,” Cree volunteered, when Jordan’s face fell he heard himself add, “You can stay with me too if you want.”

Jordan’s face turned red, his neck flushing. “Okay.”

The answer came so quickly Cree almost missed it.

“Perfect,” Lake said. “Let’s  swap roommates until we figure this out.”

“Absolutely the fuck not,” Matty cried, indignantly. “No way.”

“What? Why?” Jordan asked, already sounding like he had an agenda. “Wait, are you saying you’re so into him you’re afraid to even let him sleep in my room for a couple of nights?” he taunted.

“I know what you’re doing, Jordan Del Castillo,” Matty barked sharply. “It's not gonna work. You can’t reverse-psychology me into living with my one night stand.” 

“Hurtful,” Lake said. 

“Come on,” Jordan pleaded in that sulky tone that had Cree’s chivalry rattling the bars of its enclosure. “I love cats. I never get to play with them ‘cause of your allergies. It’s just until we find Hicks. Well, until you find Hicks.”

“And what will you be doing while I find Hicks?” Matty asked. “Other than Cree that is?”

Jordan’s grin turned slow and wicked, like he’d been waiting for that opening. He gasped, hand flying to his chest, almost swatting one of the kittens sleeping in his lap. “How dare you. I am a lady. Unlike some whores who shall not be named.”

“Speaking of. Don’t think that we’re not gonna have a serious talk about how you’ve known who Lake was the whole time and said nothing. You’ve broken every rule of friendship. You’re in big trouble, mister.”

Before Jordan could replay, Lake said, “Come on, Miles. Let me stay. I promise I’ll be on my best behavior.” His voice dropped to a sultry tone Lake had never heard before. “Or my worst depending on what you’re looking for.”

“No.” 

“Oh, you were just asking me to shower with you two hours ago,” Lake whined. 

“I-That’s not–” Matty stammered, then suddenly just sounded defeated as he said, “Ugh, fine. But I hate all of you.”

“No, you don’t,” Jordan sang. “As soon as you crack his phone, let us know. He had to back up his research on this secret society somewhere. It’s probably in his cloud. Find me a lead and we’ll run it down while you find Hicks.”

“I’m on it,” Matty said, sounding like he was hauling himself out of bed. “But you can’t tell Aiden or Thomas about any of what we do.”

“Bold of you to assume they don’t already know what you do,” Cree said.

“Wait,” Lake said. “Do you know what they do?” he asked, clearly aiming the question at Cree. “Other than SIM swaps apparently.”

“Yeah,” Cree said. “Jordan told me.”

“So much for taking our secret to the grave,” Matty muttered. “Glad he’s not the cops or we’d both be in cuffs, traitor.” 

“It was life or death,” Jordan said. “Besides, he would have found out eventually anyway.”

“Will someone tell me what you two are up to and why people are being kidnapped and why we’re apparently stealing kittens now?” Lake asked, sounding bewildered.

“Show him, Matty. The cat’s already out of the bag.” He looked down at his lap. “Literally.”

Matty didn’t answer, just hung up.

Jordan glanced over at Cree. “He’s not usually this cranky. He must really like your friend.”

Cree arched a brow. “And he’s that mad about it?”

“He’s not mad. He’s scared.”

“Well, my friend really likes him too. He hasn’t stopped moping around and talking about his superhero hookup for months.”

“I hope your friend sticks it out. I’ve never seen Matty this pressed about another person in my life.”

“Lake doesn’t give up easily. He’s surprisingly resilient.”

Jordan’s tongue played with one of his piercings. Cree’s dick definitely noticed. He tore his eyes back to the road before he drove them into a mailbox. He had barely been keeping himself in check while they were simply sending flirty texts to each other. Now he was going to spend the night with him? More than one night. Cree would need monk-like focus to not pounce on Jordan the moment they were alone. He hadn’t even kissed him yet and he was so far gone. 

“Um, we might have to stop at my place at some point. I don’t have any clothes and I’m not sure yours would fit. You’re pretty big.”

The idea of Jordan in his clothing had him reeling. Jordan drowning in one of his hoodies flashed through Cree’s brain so vividly it almost hurt. Wearing one of his hoodies and nothing else. Face flushed, damp with sweat, post sex. 

Jesus. He was losing it. 

“Yeah, uh. Sure. Okay. No problem. I—we can do that.”

Jordan bit back a smile. “Okay. Good.”

They’d only driven another mile when he felt Jordan’s hand on his. He turned his palm up without thought, letting him thread their fingers together, heart tripping as Jordan made a happy little sound under his breath like one of the kittens sleeping in his lap.

Cree didn’t even pretend to keep his composure after that. 

The stupid smile came right back.