Obsessed Read online Sloane Kennedy (The Protectors #13)

Categories Genre: Gay, GLBT, M-M Romance, Romance Tags Authors: Series: The Protectors Series by Sloane Kennedy
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Total pages in book: 92
Estimated words: 84939 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 425(@200wpm)___ 340(@250wpm)___ 283(@300wpm)
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I would have liked to tell him that he had no right to be ordering me around, but truth was, I really did need to sit.

And maybe the order didn’t rub me as wrong as it most definitely should have.

Matias returned a moment later and placed one of Ryan’s juice boxes in front of me. But instead of the straw sticking neatly out of the small hole in the top, the entire upper part of the box had been ripped open. I lifted my eyes to study Matias.

“Drink,” was all he said as he motioned to the box. Then he was moving past the table to stand by the window. He had his back to me. But even though he wasn’t moving, I got the impression that he wasn’t exactly still either.

I took a sip from the juice box but choked on it as soon as Matias said, “He was fussing in his sleep. You were still in the shower, so I gave it back to him and he settled down.”

I sputtered and gagged before I managed to say, “You knew I was in the shower?”

He didn’t answer me. I wasn’t sure I wanted him to. I chose to believe that he’d merely heard the running water and nothing more.

Yeah, I was pretty good at lying to myself.

“What are you doing here, Matias?” I asked with a sigh.

“You need better locks.”

“If I install them, will you stop picking them and knock on my door like a normal person?” I asked. If I hadn’t been looking at him, I would have missed the tightening of his shoulders and back. I considered the way he’d reacted when I’d accused him of scaring Ryan.

Had my words actually hurt him?

I took another sip of the juice, then abandoned the mangled box and got up so I could stand closer to him.

Not too close. Just enough to see his face and hopefully confirm some of the strange things my mind was coming up with. The idea that I’d hurt the man’s feelings was both insane and worrisome. Yes, his behavior was over the top, but he hadn’t done anything to hurt me or Ryan. I owed the man my life, for God’s sake.

“Matias,” I repeated, keeping my voice soft. To my surprise, Matias actually flinched. But not like he was in pain… more like he was… uncomfortable. “What are you doing here?” I asked.

He didn’t answer me. Beyond the strange flinching thing, he didn’t react at all. It was beyond frustrating, but I knew shouting at the man would get me nowhere.

“Elliot said you and your brother were out of town on business.”

No response. At least not at first. When it did come, it was a blink-and-miss-it thing because all he did was jerk his head in what I assumed was a nod.

“And you just got back?” I asked. “Was the trip a success?” I didn’t care so much about the second part as I did the first. But I was too much of a coward to ask him directly if he’d come here right after landing in Seattle. Cruz had notified Elliot as soon as he’d arrived home, but there would be no reason for Matias to come here—

“Did the glass come?”

“What?” I asked, surprised that he was once again using words.

“For your kid’s room. And the shed.”

“Um, I ordered it, but it hasn’t come yet. Tomorrow maybe.”

“And the contractor?”

Was he seriously more interested in talking about house repairs than addressing the fact that he’d broken into my home for the second time in nearly as many days?

“Matias—”

“Why’s your kid in a wheelchair?”

If there’d been any kind of animosity in the question, I would have channeled my inner Mama Bear and laid into the man, but he seemed genuinely curious.

“He has cerebral palsy. And his name’s Ryan.”

Matias glanced at me. I wondered if it was because I’d had the guts to point out that my son had a name that wasn’t “your kid.” I might not have been the bravest guy when it came to standing up for myself, but God save anyone who laid a finger on either of my kids.

“That why he can’t talk?”

“It’s why he needs an alternative method of communication,” I said, trying to hide my irritation.

Matias shifted his eyes to me and held my gaze. “It bothers you?” he asked. “When people say he can’t talk?”

Leave it to the man who had his own limitations when it came to speaking to pick up on my behavior rather than just my words in this case.

“He’s no different than any other little boy or girl. He loves junk food and watching movies and being outside and—”

Just like that, Matias was in my personal space again and I abruptly stopped talking because my body was going haywire. The man did that weird inhaling thing again that should have freaked me out but made me crazy in an entirely different way.


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