“Do it,” he urged me. “Come for me. Show me how good it feels, knowing you’re going to be feeling this for days.”

That was all it took. My body convulsed as I poured out every ounce of my orgasm. Bryce thrust into me a few more times before I felt his entire body tense over me. I’d seen him come enough times, I could picture his head thrown back in ecstasy as he spilled into the rubber.

Just like he told me I’d do to Drew later, Bryce collapsed on top of me. He ran his hand down my arm, intertwining our fingers as he shifted slightly to the left so I could breathe. I missed the weight and heat of his body immediately.

I closed my eyes as Bryce began tracing circles over my back. The tenderness was such a stark contrast to his forceful nature during sex that it was disconcerting. Still, I knew I’d take whatever Bryce wanted to give me for as long as it lasted. And after the day we’d had, I truly believed I didn’t need to worry about this ending any time soon.

“Were you serious earlier about me moving in?” Bryce asked just as I was almost lulled to sleep.

“Of course,” I responded. My words slurred slightly as I fought to stay awake. “I don’t think any of us sleep well when we’re not together, and it makes no sense for you to have an apartment you’re never at. If the center is struggling to make ends meet already, that’s more money they could be spending elsewhere.”

“Oh, so it’s a sensibility thing?” Bryce teased. He shifted closer to me and dropped kisses across the back of my shoulder.

“No, it’s completely selfish,” I admitted. “We only have about two months left before Drew has to go to spring training, and I don’t want to waste a single minute of the time we have.”

“You do know nothing’s set in stone for me, right?” I hated that Bryce had to dump a cold dose of reality on my fantasy. I’d been trying to remain positive that he’d get the transfer he’d requested and we wouldn’t have to think about what happened when he went back to Portland.

“Yeah, but I’m sure you’ll manage to persuade the boss,” I told him. I refused to let myself believe anything else.

“I’m glad you have so much faith in my abilities.” Eric chuckled and then nestled in closer to my side. “Now, should we get up and go wrap those presents before the guys get back?”

“Fuck that,” I grumbled. “Can’t move. They’ll still be there in the morning.”

“I like the way you think.”

Basking in the afterglow was cut short by the shrill ring of Bryce’s cell phone. I’d learned this was the tone he’d connected to work related calls and groaned because I knew he was going to get up.

Bryce looked concerned when he looked at the display. As he answered the phone, he rummaged through my dresser for a pair of sweatpants. He motioned toward the door and the sense of dread grew. Bryce typically didn’t worry about needing privacy when he was on the phone, even when it was work related.

I grabbed the remote and tried to find something on the television that’d keep my mind off who he could be talking to. I pulled the sheet tight to my chest as I settled on Bon Vivant for an episode of A Cut Above. Jason and Cam were out of town this week, so we hadn’t gotten together as we did every other week to watch. My heart raced as I watched our friend present his dish to the judges. The arrogant ass Jason couldn’t stand picked at the food before finally taking a bite. I fist pumped as the man’s scowl turned into a wide grin.

“Now this is a dish any chef would be proud to have on the menu,” he praised Cam. “The plating could use a bit of imagination, but only because right now it’s lacking the appeal needed to hold up to what a diner will experience when they begin eating. Well done.”

That was the first time I’d heard the jerk congratulate Cam, and I wished I could reach over and pat him on the back. Cam had been vague whenever we’d asked him about how far he’d made it on the show, but as I watched the other judges agree with the first, I began to feel confident that he was holding back something huge.

The bedroom door opened and my enthusiasm waned at the fallen look on Bryce’s face. Just minutes ago, we were lying in bed ready to fall into a post-coital coma, and now he shuffled across the room as if he’d just been given bad news. Fuck.

“What’s going on?” I asked. I lifted the sheet so Bryce could join me and turned off the television. Whether or not he’d admit to it, Bryce needed me.

“I have to go back to Portland.” His tone was flat and lifeless. My stomach churned, and I buried my face in his neck so he wouldn’t see my disappointment.

“When?” I asked, not wanting to hear the answer. Now the guilt crept in and I thought about pausing the conversation until Drew came home.

“Sunday,” he responded. “That was Mike Borgwardt. He’s scheduled a meeting for eight-thirty Monday morning and wants me to be there.”

“Did he say anything about your transfer request?” As much as I knew in my gut that Bryce wasn’t coming back once he got on the plane, I couldn’t give up. Not now. Not when I was finally admitting that I’d fallen for both men.

Bryce shook his head and stared out the windows on the far side of the room. “I asked him and all he’d say is that he’d received the request and we’d talk Monday.”

“That doesn’t make sense,” I argued. “If you’re going to talk about it Monday, why not just do it over the phone and save money?”

“We both know why…” Bryce stopped himself from saying anything further. As we laid there, I wished it were possible to get back the high from earlier. Instead, I could practically feel Bryce pulling away from me.

Chapter 24

Sunday morning was somber for many reasons. We’d been careful to keep our conversations and speculation about my return to Portland behind closed doors, but Cody wasn’t stupid. He knew something big was going on even though he didn’t ask questions. Drew and I had driven to my apartment Saturday afternoon to pack my clothes. Refusing to believe this was it, Eric made room in his closet for my stuff. I complied rather than argue, because if nothing else it meant he wanted me to find my way back here. And I would. Somehow.

After lunch on Sunday, Cody sat down at the dining room table and borrowed Drew’s laptop to finish a final project for his Sociology class. As I watched him flipping back and forth between his notes, textbook, and different websites, I vowed to do whatever I could because Cody was a prime example of why what we did mattered. Less than a year ago, he was living on the streets and had given up on his dreams. Now, he was an honor roll student who’d managed to take as many classes as he could to ensure he’d graduate on time. He wouldn’t have that without Pot of Gold, and I wasn’t about to fail him.

“Whatcha thinking about?” Drew asked as he leaned over the back of the couch to hug me.

I turned and offered him a wan smile. The sexual energy between the three of us had cooled considerably since Friday night’s phone call. Feeling Drew’s arms draped down my chest reminded me how much I would miss these casual moments.

“I can’t shake the feeling that being sent back to Portland is only the tip of the iceberg,” I admitted to him.

Drew hopped over the back of the couch and curled into my side. “You can’t think like that. Aren’t you the one who kept telling me it was pointless to dwell on the bad shit that could happen?”

“You’re right.” What I didn’t tell him was that there was a difference between obsessing over what could go wrong and admitting what I knew was insurmountable odds. Every month, the center’s bank account became a deeper shade of red. Most recently, it seemed to be a deep crimson, not dissimilar to the blood most of us poured into keeping the doors open and the heat turned on. No matter how I’d tried to streamline, it felt as though every issue I resolved uncovered two more and it was hard to stay positive when facing such odds.