“Do the weekend if you’re undecided. Make the cash. You must have nearly enough for school by now if you’ve been fucking Mr. Moneybags for over a month.”

“God, Marc, you make it sound so—”

Mark tsked. “Baby, you’re his rent boy. You can’t forget that.”

“You just told me to—”

“I told you to use your assets and work for what you want because you just might get it.”

Did Marc truly believe that? “You’ve never been an idealist, Marc.”

“No, but you are. It’s adorable and probably one of the things Thorne likes best about you.”

“How do you know he likes me?”

“You wouldn’t be having this conversation with me if you didn’t think he felt something more than lust for your hot-as-hell body.”

There were hints, Riley had to admit that. Like the way Thorne had touched him so reverently last Saturday morning. And the way he’d asked if he felt the connection between them. And he did, but he didn’t trust it. “This is crazy.”

“Sure it is, as crazy as moving all the way across the country with someone you’ve dated two weeks.”

“I miss you, you know.”

“I do know. Let me know what you decide.” He sounded sad, not like his usual animated self. Were things okay with him? He doubted Marc would tell him the truth if he asked.

“I will.” Riley ended the call. A few minutes later, he arrived home, glad, despite the expense, that he hadn’t found a new roommate. He wanted to be alone with his thoughts.

How much do I want this? Way too much. He’d never met anyone like Thorne, never felt a fraction of what he felt when he was with Thorne. He’d only known the man a month, a fucking month, and he was already this far gone. Walk away. That’s what he should do.

He imagined never seeing Thorne again, never feeling Thorne’s hands sliding up his back, never hearing Thorne beg when Riley was buried deep inside him, never kissing him again like they’d kissed last week—long and sweet and like they had all day. They would have all day if he spent the weekend.

He’d lied to Thorne. He didn’t actually have any other clients lined up. He’d intended to be on call for Sheila on Saturday night. But why do that when Thorne was a sure thing?

He’d promised Susan to help her on Saturday afternoon, but Thorne wouldn’t mind if he took a few hours to do that. He could even bake at Thorne’s place and then take the food to Susan if he needed to. Why was he even pretending he wasn’t going to stay?