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tuck behind Chaz’s head.

“Are you going to join me?” Chaz peered up at Peter with a hopeful gleam in his eyes.

Peter shook his head. “No. You need to rest, and I need to get ready for bed. I’ll be back here in a few minutes.”

“Hey, don’t I get to decide where we sleep tonight? I think I remember you asking me

whether I wanted to share a bed with you.”

Peter ducked his head, swearing silently as his face heated yet again. He couldn’t

believe he’d been bold enough to ask Chaz that. If the man wanted Peter to stay, he would’ve said something. Chaz didn’t need to see Peter as a needy person who had to spend every

moment of every day with him.

“Yes, it is up to you. I’m sorry I presumed.” He backed away from the tub.

Chaz grabbed his hand, pulling him to a stop. “Oh, you didn’t presume anything. I

want you in my bed for as long as you’re willing to be there, Peter. Believe me when I say you’re the only man I’ve ever said that to.”

Was it the pain or exhaustion making Chaz say that? Peter had the feeling if Chaz felt

good he would’ve never said anything like that. Chaz didn’t seem like the type of guy who settled down or got involved in a serious way with anyone. Very much a player, as Max

would say.

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LEAVING HOME T.A. Chase 84

Yet didn’t it mean something that Chaz had chosen not to take more pills tonight after

riding had tweaked his back so badly? Could it mean that Peter really was someone more

than just a vacation fling, or a one-night stand?

He snorted silently. Yeah, right. It was all Peter’s wishful thinking making him believe

there was something more between him and Chaz. The only thing there was mutual liking

and almost overwhelming lust. When the two weeks were up, and Chaz had to get down to

Tulsa, Peter had no doubt the man would walk away without a second thought.

“Well, thank you, I guess.” Peter freed his hand and gave Chaz a smile. “I’m going to

get changed, then I’ll be right back.”

“I’ll be here, soaking. Hey, do you think you could bring me a beer when you come

back?”

Peter nodded. “I could probably do that, and it wouldn’t be nearly as bad as if you

mixed the alcohol with your pills.”

Chaz grimaced. “Probably true, but it helped dull the pain.”

Was the pain so bad that Chaz couldn’t deal with it unless he was drugged to the gills?

Peter wondered if he’d been to the doctors, and what they had said about his injuries. It didn’t seem right that the only thing Chaz could do was medicate the aches and pains.

He went to his room, and changed into sleep shorts and a T-shirt. After making a stop

in the kitchen to grab two bottles of beer, he returned to find Chaz half asleep in the tub. He tapped him on the shoulder with the bottle.

“Here you go, man.”

Chaz didn’t even open his eyes, simply held up his hand for Peter to put the beer in it.

“Thanks.”

“You’re welcome,” Peter said as he sat on the floor next to the tub. He took a sip of his beer, then leaned his head against the edge. “Can I ask you a question?”

“Sure. I’ve got nothing to hide.”

“Is that so? I think everyone has something to hide. You wouldn’t be human if you

didn’t.” Peter reached over to lay his hand on Chaz’s shoulder. “How bad is your back?

Could you have surgery or something to fix it?”

“The only thing they can do is fuse the vertebrae and, once that happens, I can’t work

anymore because I wouldn’t be able to bend or move fast enough to keep the guys safe.”

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LEAVING HOME T.A. Chase 85

Chaz shrugged, moving the flesh under Peter’s fingers. “I don’t know what else I’d do if I couldn’t be a bullfighter. It’s all I’ve ever wanted to be since I went to my first rodeo.”

“Oh, I’m sure you could find something else. Possibly just work as a cowhand

somewhere, or something that wouldn’t be so hard on your back.”

Maybe he could talk to Les about finding Chaz a job that didn’t involve too much

lifting. Yet it wasn’t his place to try to save Chaz, not after having only met him yesterday. Of course, he’d dragged Chaz out of an alley, so saving him might be what Peter was supposed to do.

“How did I injure my back? Which time?”

Peter lifted his head to shoot a glance at Chaz. “How did you know I was going to ask

that? You’ve hurt yourself more than once? I can’t believe you haven’t retired before this.”

“It’s not that great a leap that you’d want to know about it. No big deal. You get hurt

when you’re a bullfighter. There’s no way to retire from rodeo without getting injured at some point. If you do, then you haven’t been doing your job right. The other guys and I are there to ensure the riders don’t suffer the bull’s wrath.”

“I’ve never really understood why anyone would ride in any of the roughstock events

or be a bullfighter. Tony’s tried to explain to me why he did it, and the adrenaline rush he felt when he rode doesn’t make sense to me.”

Chaz drained his beer, then handed the empty bottle to Peter. “I get what you’re saying.

It’s hard to understand when you haven’t done it. I wouldn’t recommend it if you’re not

crazy, and a bullfighter has to have an extra dose of insanity.”

“When was your first injury?” Peter set the bottle on the counter with his. He moved

around so he could face Chaz.

After rolling his head over, Chaz eyed him. “Are you sure you want to go through the

list of my wounds? I think the water will grow cold before I’m done.”

“Fine. Just hit the highlights then. I don’t want to be in here all night.” He winked at

Chaz. “At least not while you’re not feeling good, though hanging out in the shower with

you would be fun.”

“We’ll try that

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