Hired Help, part 2

By the amount of yelling, cursing, and, well, general screaming, I knew that Shaw was unhappy—yet again. By the volume, I also knew that, of course, gorgeous Cole was near—and that Saw was most likely in his fist, again. “All clean,” Cole said in a light, sing-song manner.

“Good,” I replied. Gabe sat, unmoving. To see if he was paying attention to Cole, Shaw, or if he was lost in his own thoughts, I reached over and began to fondle his ankle, reveling in the sensation of the firm joint, his sweat wicked from inside his leather work shoe, and the sock’s ribbing that began at the top of his ankle.

“Get the fuck offa me!” he yelled and kicked at my fingers with his right foot. His shout also called attention to what I was doing.

“Oops.”