them out in a few minutes. He dropped his backpack just inside his front door and took a bathroom break before heading back outside across the shared front porch and opening his landlady’s front door with the key she’d given him.
He knew Mrs. Salvietti was already asleep, and she slept like the dead, so he could have been an elephant trampling her furniture and she wouldn’t know it. The dogs, Italian greyhounds named Marco and Polo, yipped happily when they saw him and gleefully followed him down the hall to the door that led out to the backyard. He let them pass him so they could run and do their business while he waited patiently by the door for them to be done. Five minutes later, they trotted back up to him, having explored the same corners they explored every night, and he let them back in before heading back to his apartment again.
Planning for the next day wasn’t too difficult. It was mostly a matter of adjusting what was already scheduled to account for what he had been able to do with the class that morning so he could add what hadn’t been covered to the next day’s plan. Deciding that he’d shower in the morning, he stripped down to his boxers and slid onto his pillowy bed. But sleep wouldn’t come, although his body was tired. His mind kept whirring on an endless loop…the things he had to do before he made it to work in the morning, the meeting he was scheduled to participate in later in the week as they launched a new initiative to work with high functioning special needs students, and dinner with Mac and his family. He was happy that dinner with Mac was still part of his routine, even if those dinners would be less frequent.
The thought of Ryland’s best friend, Bennett Kincaid, also possibly being at dinner when he was there, snapped him wide awake. The first time he’d met the man had been at the rehearsal dinner. Jordan had done a double take when he’d first walked in, feeling almost physically slammed by the man’s stellar looks and presence. There was just something about his blond-haired, blue-gray-eyed, slender, good looks that grabbed Jordan’s attention.
Rolling over in bed, he tried to shut down his thoughts again, but now it seemed they had found something they really didn’t want to let go of…Bennett Kincaid.
“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Kincaid!”
The smile that had lit the golden man’s eyes had sparked a fire in Jordan that he hadn’t been able to quench for the rest of the evening.
“Same here,” he’d replied, extending a hand. “And please, it’s Bennett.”
The touch of their palms had been electric, and Jordan had held on to it a few seconds more than was appropriate. He had liked the weight of Benny’s — that’s what almost everyone else called him — hand in his. It was a strong man’s hand with long slender fingers that had cupped his own firmly and squeezed gently, not in a show of dominance but rather in acknowledgment of something shared between them silently.
“Mac has told me a lot about your work,” he’d continued, not wanting to step away just yet.
Something was drawing him to the younger man, something he didn’t feel like ignoring. He’d never experienced anything quite like it before.
Bennett’s brow had creased in a puzzled frown. “Mac?”
“Chandler,” Jordan clarified for him. “He was a student of mine for a semester in his sophomore year before he was forced to drop out. I called all my students by their last names. Once we became friends, it was just easier to shorten it.”
And why the fuck was he talking so much? And to a stranger, for Pete’s sake? This rambling fool wasn’t who he was. He had stepped back then, uneasy with the way Bennett Kincaid seemed to be able to get behind his walls. Not even the smile the guy had slanted his way had been enough to dispel his sudden skittishness.
Bennett’s voice was sultry…Jordan couldn’t think of any other word to describe it. It was smooth and dark, washing over his skin like silk and making him think dirty, dirty thoughts. Which were totally inappropriate about someone he didn’t know at a function for his friend. He had excused himself and gone off to find Mac, but then he’d had the misfortune of being seated right next to Bennett for the meal after the rehearsal.
Maybe ‘misfortune’ wasn’t the best word