by Kensie King
“This is not gutter talk. This is important. And it’s been coming for like, what? Forever!”
I opened my mouth to deny it, but she was right. I’d been thinking about Tate, thinking about touching him, kissing him, and getting the same in return. And I’d been thinking about it since the moment I met him. Since I walked into the bar, looking for a job and desperate to get out of my dad’s house. From that moment, my feelings had only grown for Tate.
“Did he do this?” Bea pointed to my hand. “Bandage you?”
I nodded. “He was gentle.”
He’d taken care of me. He’d been there like no one had ever been there for me—not even my first crush. The one who’d changed my world.
“God, I’m so jealous right now!” Bea wrinkled her nose. “And so bummed he’s gay.”
I smiled at her. “Lucky me.”
And I did feel lucky. For just a moment. Then I let reality crash back over me. Tate was my boss and I was an employee. And one little kiss wasn’t going to fix my fucked-up life.
“I really do need to pee,” Bea said, hurrying for a stall.
“I should get back anyway.”
I left her in the bathroom mumbling about gay kisses and how she’d tried being a lesbian but it hadn’t worked out. And why were all the good guys gay?
My cheeks were still flushed, so I took a moment to grab the bag of trash someone had put at the end of the bar. A breath of fresh air would do me good.
I took it the back way behind the bar so I didn’t have to lug it past customers. The Exit sign at the back door buzzed. I shoved through, relishing the first feel of cool air on my cheeks. Staring up at the sky, I searched for the moon, only to find the entire sky had clouded over. It smelled like rain.
I swung the bag into the Dumpster. Something crunched behind me and I whipped around. Images of mice racing across my feet had me eyeing the ground warily. Around the corner, I heard laughter and talking as a handful of customers lingered on the patio with drinks.
Blowing out a breath, I walked back to the door. Jumpy. That’s all. I was jumpy because—
“Fancy meeting you here,” a voice said behind me.
I whipped around again, my stomach dropping when two men appeared from behind the Dumpster. Two familiar men.
No, no, no…not again. I nearly tripped over my own feet trying to back up to the door.
“Now, don’t leave,” one of the men said. “We just got here.”
“And we just want to talk.”
Yeah, right. The gleam in their eyes said they were here for something more. Probably money.
“I don’t know where my dad is, but your business is with him.” I was proud of myself for keeping my voice steady, even though the rest of my body was shaking.
“Can’t find him,” the man said. “But we figure he shares his money with you. If not, we can take a down payment until you come up with the rest.”
“I don’t—I don’t have any money,” I stammered, glancing behind me.
The door seemed impossibly far away, and they were getting closer.
“We’re not asking,” the other man said.
He nodded to his partner and they both rushed me. I held up my hands in defense, but the blow didn’t come.
“Get the fuck away from him,” a new voice snarled.
Tate.
He had one of the bouncers from the front with him, each one advancing on the two men.
Tate gripped the man’s collar and slammed him against the Dumpster, making me gasp. I’d never seen Tate look so tall, so muscular. So dangerous.
And again, he was protecting me.
Tate glanced in my direction. “Get inside.”
My mouth opened but he shook his head firmly.
“Get inside. Now.”
Without another word, I rushed inside and slumped against the wall by the back door, my heart thumping out of my chest.
Holy fuck.
Chapter 8
TATE
The assholes who had tried to hurt Liam weren’t ever going near him again. Once I was sure the police were on their way, I walked back inside, seeking out Liam. I didn’t find him in the break room, and when I reached the bar again, Mason stepped in my path.
“I sent Curtis for back-up,” he said, referring to the bouncer they usually had stationed at the entrance to the bar.
“Thanks.” I scrubbed a hand over my eyes. “We need to get that security system in here.”
“At least the cameras were working,” Mason said, setting his hand on my shoulder.
Thank God for that. When I’d seen Liam head outside, I went straight to the office and pulled up the view from the back alley. I’d seen the men before Liam had, called the police, and grabbed Holmes to help me.
Those men hadn’t had the chance to even lay a finger on Liam. My jaw clenched. I still couldn’t get the image of him standing by the door, pale and frightened, out of my mind.
“You okay?” Mason asked.
I swallowed hard, trying to shake the uneasy feeling that still sat heavy in my gut. Something horrible could have happened to Liam. But it hadn’t.
Before I could answer, Mason gave a curt not. “Go. Do what you need to do. Take a night. I’ve got this covered.”
“But the police—”
“No problem. They were trespassing—we caught them on camera. They were also harassing one of our employees—maybe longer than we knew. I don’t doubt they both have a record.” Mason shrugged. “Regardless, you don’t need to be here. And neither does he. I’ll give the police your number if they have any more questions.”
I debated for one split second and then nodded. “Thanks.”
I walked straight to the bar, already expecting that Liam would be back to work like nothing had happened. But not tonight. I needed to make sure he was okay. No, more than okay. Safe.
Liam poured two shots and slid them across the bar with a strained smile. I could see from his body language that he was still tense. Nervous. Probably scared this wasn’t the last of it. I was pretty sure these were the men who had bothered him before. The ones who’d given him a fat lip.
I wanted answers and I wanted to make sure the trouble he was in was handled.
When he turned and saw me, his lips parted. An explanation. I could see that’s what he was trying to come up with.
Or worse—an apology. Liam seemed to be endlessly apologizing to me.
“Don’t say anything,” I murmured under the heavy bass of the music.
“Are they gone? Are you okay? I didn’t—”
“It’s handled.” I touched his elbow. “Let’s go.”
Panic bloomed on his face. “Go? I—my shift isn’t over and—”
“It’s covered.”
“But…” Panic turned into resignation. He glanced at Bea as his shoulders drooped. “Okay.”
I turned him around, guiding him out of the bar. As we walked to the office, he stared at his shoes.
“I’m sorry about the mess,” he whispered. So low I barely heard him. “I understand you—you can’t have that kind of thing going on around here. It’s—it’s a business—”
I stopped at the office door. “Excuse me?”
He bit his lip, making my heart twist. “I’m just saying, I understand why you have to fire me.”
“Fire you?” The words came out louder and harsher than I intended. I rested my hands on my hips, trying to calm myself. What the fuck? Some assholes had bothered him, and he thought it was his fault? “I’m not firing you.”
“But—but—” He blinked, looking lost. He took off his glasses and rubbed them on his shirt. “I…”
“I figured you’d want the rest of the night. To regroup.”
He returned the glasses to his face, already shaking his head. “No. It’s not necessary. I can work. I need to work.”
“Not now. You can take one night off.”
“I really can’t. I’m sorry—”
“Don’t apologize!�
� I snapped.
He flinched, making me feel like complete shit. He’d just been scared to death out back and now I was yelling at him.
“Okay, wait.” I stopped an inch away from touching him. His chest moved up and down with quick breaths. It took everything I had not to pull him into my arms. “I’m—I just need to make sure you’re okay. I need…”
To take care of him. That’s what I needed. I needed his comfort as much as I wanted to give him mine. Getting out of here seemed like the best bet.
“What?” he asked, voice soft.
I reached out, my fingers tracing one of his cheekbones. His eyes dropped at the feel of it, responding to my touch in a way I craved. I wanted more than just safety for Liam. I wanted to make him mine.
“Come home with me,” I said. When his eyes widened, I gave a soft chuckle. “Just so you have somewhere to stay the night. No strings. Just a safe place.”
And somewhere he could shower. Somewhere he could let his guard down. Somewhere he might relax enough to let me be there for him.
“You don’t have to. I mean—I already caused enough mess tonight.” At the serious look on my face, he ducked his chin with a smile. “Okay, sorry. No—not sorry. Just…okay. I’ll go with you.”
Relief flooded my body. I opened the office door and grabbed my jacket and keys. “You need anything?”
Liam lingered in the doorway. “Just my bag. What I took from home earlier.”
“You went back there?”
He stared at his shoes. “I needed clothes.”
God, he looked so small. He was only a handful of inches shorter than me, but the worried look on his face, knowing he might not even have a dime to his name made my heart break for him.
I walked with him to retrieve his bag from the employee room, then led him outside. When he tensed, I linked my fingers through his. “It’s okay. It’s safe.”
He glanced down at our hands, surprise on his face. Then he squeezed my fingers and followed me to my car. He didn’t seem to care that we were leaving his car here. In fact, he was trusting me to take care of him, which was exactly what I wanted.
Once we were back to my place, once he’d had some rest, then we could talk. Sort it all out.
I opened the door for him, staying close to block the rest of the parking lot from his view. The last thing he needed was a reminder of what had happened earlier.
“Hey,” I said when he was seated.
Liam looked up at me, blinking tired eyes behind his glasses. He looked wary, unsure. And just plain exhausted.
“You can trust me, okay?” I asked.
He exhaled, and this time his hand came up to touch my cheek. His eyes searched mine—icy pools of question. After a long moment, he said, “I trust you.”
The words made my heart twist. I leaned in slowly, making sure he didn’t want to pull away. His breath touched my lips a moment before our mouths connected. His tongue moved against mine, making me moan softly. My whole body came alive, hope churning inside of me.
I hadn’t let myself feel anything like this for so long. It didn’t occur to me to take it slow. I knew Liam—deep in my gut, I trusted him, too.
His hand snaked up the front of my shirt, touch featherlight against my chest until he cupped my face between his hands. The taste of him lingered on my tongue even after I eased back to see his eyes.
We stayed like that for a long moment, the magic of a budding romance swirling around us, and the weight of the night starting to creep in.
I kissed him again briefly. “Let’s go home.”
Chapter 9
LIAM
So many emotions swirled through me, I was exhausted. The day had taken its toll, and so had what I’d started with Tate. It wanted it with my heart and soul, but Tate didn’t know the full extent of what he was getting himself into. Even if he understood part of it, he had no idea what kind of history followed me.
The guilt that haunted my dreams.
My lack of experience with men.
But tonight, just for once, I wanted to pretend I was whole. A man completely put together with normal wants and needs for another man. A man he trusted with his life.
Tate’s apartment was on the second floor of a historic building only six blocks from the bar. It wasn’t far, but it seemed like a completely different world from where I lived. Two different lives, two different histories, maybe even two different paths.
After all, I was barely making it through each day. Tate was put together. Confident. Driven. He had his life, his future, ahead of him. It was still making up for my past. And I might be forever.
But Tate didn’t know about all my holes. He took my hand again, and even the simpleness of my fingers linked with his was almost more than I could bear. I’d wanted to touch him for so long and now I knew he wanted the same.
He could seem to stop touching me. For tonight, I wanted to lose myself in that knowledge.
Just for tonight.
We hiked up a small set of stairs, Tate’s keys jingling in his hand as we climbed. He switched his grip on my hand instead of letting go when he opened the door. His hand settled on my back as he led me inside.
“I didn’t know you lived so close to the bar,” I said.
“It’s convenient. But yeah, I don’t tell a lot of people where I live.” He flashed me a smile that melted my bones. “The bar might as well be my home, I’m there so much.”
It made sense, but if I lived in his place, I’d spend all my time here. I looked around and he gestured when I paused, trying not to invade his space.
“Go ahead. Look around.”
I released his hand, missing the warmth immediately. But the place was intriguing. Brick walls that could have been cold, yet he had enough furniture to make it feel warmer. The kitchen was contemporary and huge, making my mouth drop open.
“This is great. It…” I gave him a smile. “I like it.”
“What were you going to say?”
He walked up to me, eyes inviting. None of the anger and stress they’d held earlier still lingered. He looked relaxed in this space. Relaxed even with me here.
“Just that I’d love a kitchen like this,” I answered, glancing away so I didn’t have to see that knowing look in his eyes.
Half the time I had no idea what Tate was thinking, and the other half of the time I didn’t want to know. Certainly right now, he had to be thinking that I was practically a child. Dreaming over kitchens and houses I might never own because I couldn’t get my shit together.
Tate pointed down the hall. “Two bedrooms that way—I used to use the spare as an office, so it’s got a desk in there. But there’s also a bed.”
Was it me or did his voice drop a little when he said “bed”? Did his voice grow a little husky? My heart picked up speed when I realized exactly what was happening here. I was spending the night at Tate Porter’s house. He was going to be sleeping in the next room, his strong body stretched out on the sheets.
And he’d kissed me. I’d kissed him back.
My cock throbbed, growing hard in my jeans. Fuck. What the hell had I been thinking coming here?
“You look like you’re about ready to bolt,” Tate said, voice soft.
I glanced up, surprised. I might not be able to read his expression, but he definitely knew what I was thinking most of the time. How could he read me so well?
“I…I feel like I’m imposing.”
His eyes darkened just slightly, disapproval in the slight frown on his lips. “I wouldn’t have brought you here if I didn’t want you here.”
I swallowed. He wanted me here. And I wanted to be here so badly, to forget everything and just live in the moment for once. With Tate.
“You’ll feel better when you get settled,” he said.
“I could use a shower.”
His eyes dropped. It was the first time he’d looked away first. Before I could analyze, he was guiding me down the hall and to a bathroom with a large shower.
&
nbsp; “Towels, shampoo,” Tate said, gesturing. “Should be everything you need. If not, let me know and we’ll figure it out.”
That easy. We’ll figure it out. Just like he’d figured out the problem tonight. If I wasn’t careful, I could get very comfortable here. I could believe that all my problems could be solved that easily.
“I’ll be fine. Thanks.”
But once he was gone and I’d undressed, I couldn’t stop thinking about how naked I was in an apartment with a man I wanted so badly.
Then I tried to wash my hair and the magic of the moment was lost. My hand throbbed and I didn’t want to get the bandage wet. I managed to wash my hair with one hand, but I did a terrible job. And the rest of my body got half a rub with soap for the same reason.
Even though the water felt like heaven, I got out quickly and wrapped a towel around my waist. When I reached up, I still felt soap in my hair.
Fuck. I gave a choked laugh that turned into something so close to a sob, it startled me. What the hell was I doing here? And where the hell was I supposed to go after this?
I’d gotten Tate into a mess tonight. I could try to ignore my problems all I wanted, but they were still there no matter what I did.
I braced my good hand on the counter, bowing my head and taking a few deep breaths. Get your shit together, Liam. This wasn’t the time to feel sorry for myself. I had a job and a close friend—an understanding boss. I knew for a fact that things could always get worse, so it made no sense to worry yet.
A soft knock sounded on the door.
“I’ll be out in a minute,” I murmured, enjoying the last of the warm steam that surrounded me.
But instead of hearing footsteps walk away, I heard the door open. “Liam? Sorry, I didn’t hear anything. I wanted to make sure you were okay.”
I kept my head bowed, afraid the conflict in my eyes would give me away. “I’m fine. Almost done. Just—” I gave a choked laugh— “had a little trouble with my hand.”
“Oh, sweetheart,” Tate said softly.
The endearment hit me right in the heart. How had I gotten so lucky? My boss actually cared—how many people could say that?
He didn’t say another word, just walked up behind me and put his arms around me. My breath caught at the feel of his body against mine. The strength in his chest and arms. The warmth of his cheek against my back, and the erotic knowledge that he was fully dressed, and I was practically naked.
