Chapter 40

But he backed away from the door, stepping on something. Curious, Xavier looked down—it was a piece of paper. It must have fallen out of Billy’s pocket. He picked it up and read it. Seven digits and a name.

Kyle? Who the hell was Kyle?

Xavier took a deep breath and placed the paper on the nightstand by the bed. Billy had never mentioned a guy named Kyle.

Moments later, Billy stepped out of the steamy washroom, wearing only a fitted blue tank top and white boxer briefs. His hair was wet and parted to the side, and he looked so damn lovely, that for a second, Xavier couldn’t articulate a word. “Feel better?” he finally said.

Billy dropped his bag in the corner of the room and walked over to the bed, then sat by Xavier, curling a leg under him. He smelled like cheap hotel soap. “What’s wrong?”

“Who’s Kyle?” Xavier asked, in a low voice. He wasn’t angry. Or jealous. He realized he was insecure. “Why do you have his number?”