The Crush by K. Sterling

Fletcher Grant could have anything he wanted. Except his assistant. But, good lord, he really wanted his assistant. The only person who could get away with calling him Fletch was Rhys. He hated it, except when he heard Rhys say it. When Rhys said it, it made him feel like they were just a little more intimate. Not in an unprofessional way, of course. But more like they had a relationship outside the office. As much as Fletcher was in love with Rhys, he would never act on it. The idea of mixing his personal romantic life with his professional work life made Fletcher uncomfortable.

And there was the whole Zane thing. Zane Weatherly was a colossal asshole. If regular assholes were human assholes, Zane would be a blue whale’s asshole. He was that much more of an asshole. Fletcher did a Google search to see which animal had the largest asshole, just so he could accurately compare Zane to the rest of humanity’s assholes. He was also Rhys’ boyfriend.

Life was going really well for Rhys Patterson. He had a tiny yet comfortable apartment in New York City, a gorgeous boyfriend and he’d lucked his way into a great job as assistant to one of the most powerful men in the city. His boss was also the most beautiful man Rhys had ever laid eyes on. Which was a blessing and a curse. It was an utterly stupid thought but it made Rhys’ stomach tickle. Men like Fletcher didn’t date men like Rhys. He was the sort of man who’d date a progressive and quietly out gay politician or an uber wealthy yet internationally respected and adored philanthropist. If he was gay. Which he wasn’t. And Rhys was still just a personal assistant.