Into the Gloaming

by Mercy Celeste

  Something resembling disappointment flashed in her eyes, clearing just as quickly. The smile she plastered on, not quite as genuine as she intended. “I could. He doesn’t know I’m alive. He only sees you. And you’re in love with someone else.”

  “I don’t know him.” Austin tried to defend himself. He’d never led Rory on. And Rory had slept with whoever he wanted for as long as Austin had known him. If he wanted Jemma, and whatever secrets she hid beneath her skirt, he’d take her. “And I’m not stopping him from seeing you.”

  “I know you’re not, Sugar. And Austin… it doesn’t matter if you know him, or if he signs your paycheck. Fuck him. Get it out of your system. And don’t worry about what other people think.”

  “And you’re going to… what?”

  “Follow the band back to their hotel. Or go home, and play with B.O.B. Like any self-respecting good girl.”

  His gaze flickered over the other two interns making out near the stage. “And those two?”

  “Looks like they’re together until this job ends. Don’t know. Don’t care. They have nothing under their skirts that interest me.”

  “Who are you?” He asked as she flicked out her tongue to tease him. This woman was not the meek, mousy woman he’d suspected was after his job.

  “When I figure that out, Sugar, I’ll let you know.” She kissed him as the song ended and the band switched over to the Metallica version of Whiskey in the Jar. She held him close as the crowd jostled them. “It’s nearly midnight. Pick someone and go kiss them. Make a choice, Austin.”

  “What if it’s the wrong choice?”

  She shrugged and patted his cheeks. “One-night stand or the rest of your life. Doesn’t matter. It’s just a kiss.”

  And she danced away, leaving him at the edge of the dance floor. Rory disappeared into the back. Which left just one man to kiss when the time came.

  The one who’d kissed him so thoroughly just a couple of hours ago and left him lightheaded and wanting… someone he shouldn’t.

  But that was always the way of it, wasn’t it?

  Heath set his mug on the bar and stood straight when the band started counting down the final seconds of the year.

  Austin found himself standing on his toes with five seconds to spare. A storm brewed in Heath’s eyes. Austin wrapped around him and tasted the Irish coffee he’d been drinking as the crowd sang about all their troubles being forgotten.

  Heath held him close, his mouth hot and sweet and familiar.

  Troubles? What troubles? There were no troubles here. Austin closed his eyes, and let Heath’s kisses take away all his troubles.

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Maybe there was too much whiskey in his coffee. Maybe it was the heat. Maybe it was the strobing lights. Maybe it was the music.

  Maybe Austin’s mouth on his was the reason all sense fled the exact moment Austin pulled him in for a kiss. At midnight. And held that kiss from one year to the next.

  Maybe it was everything.

  Maybe he was just horny, and a beautiful, willing man wanted him. One who didn’t seem to care that a whole bar filled with people witnessed the kiss.

  Maybe that was the problem. His entire relationship with Clark had been secret. He’d watched his husband escort a person who was not him down how many red-carpet events? How many parties, had they attended after they’d started dating that they pretended the other didn’t exist? Even after they’d married. Why had he thought Clark would share their love with the world after they made it legal. His first clue should have been when Clark took his wedding band off as soon as they returned to Los Angeles after the honeymoon.

  Heath pulled the shorter man closer and wrapped his arms around him. Austin’s warmth engulfing him. No, inflaming him would be more accurate. Heath opened his mouth to welcome anything Austin was willing to give him. The old Scottish song he’d listened to from the bar while his husband kissed another last year played in the background. Large flakes of green and orange confetti floated from somewhere. Small flecks of glitter sprinkled Austin’s head and shoulders. Heath closed his eyes and let the taste of this man overwhelm his senses.

  “HAPPY NEW YEAR!” Someone shouted from nearby. Noisemakers took the place of guitars and violins for a short time, then Irish punk blasted with an off-key rendition of Kiss Me, I’m Shitfaced. Someone else jostled Austin from his arms and the moment ended.

  Heath lost the warmth, but sense didn’t seem to want to return. He stuffed his hands in his trouser pockets and rocked on the balls of his feet. “Is it…” he had to stop to clear his throat. “Always like this?”

  “Pretty much. Maybe a tad bit on the restrained side compared to down in Savannah. They’ll devolve into drinking songs and it’ll get louder until Rory has to shut it down.” Austin stepped back, putting enough space between them to let air in. He mimicked Heath’s posture, he could only get one hand into his pants pocket, he rocked backward on his heels. His face pleasantly flushed. “I usually stick around to help him, and I probably should tonight.”

  Heath watched as a few black T-shirt wearing toughs came from the back to flank the bar. “Looks like Rory’s called in backup.”

  “Yeah. I recognize a couple of those guys. They’re cooks. And I think one of them is from the original Callaghan’s. But… they sort of all look the same to me right now.” He blinked rapidly and swayed on his feet. “Fuck, I’m exhausted.”

  Heath fingered his keys in his pocket and looked over the dance floor for Jemma. She looked like she was having fun. Pressing her body tight against the singer who’d jumped from the stage, presumably for that purpose. If Heath had read his face correctly when Jemma had kissed Austin not even five minutes ago, Jemma wouldn’t be going home alone. “Would you like to get out of here?”

  Austin followed his gaze to the woman near the stage. “You have somewhere special in mind?”

  “No. Just maybe take a walk. I’ve had too much to drink to drive.”

  “Jemma seems sober enough. She could drive your Jag back around the block for you.”

  “How’d you know we drove it around?”

  “She said, and I quote… ‘I just died and went to heaven in a fucking Jaguar.’ That can only mean one of two things.”

  Heath thought about the hand up the skirt moment and what he’d found and shivered. “No. I mean, she’s… attractive. I just… she’s…”

  “A dude in a dress.” Austin raised an eyebrow, then winced. “Not how I meant it. And I didn’t even suspect until just a few minutes ago. I just… I’m an idiot.”

  “That’s not it. I… she seems… familiar. Like I’ve known her all my life. Kind of strange since I just met all of you yesterday… well, two days ago now.”

  “Yeah… strange how you all seem so…” Austin paused, his eyes vague for a moment. He shook his head as if to clear his thoughts and grinned. “You may never get the car back, you know that, right?”

  Heath shrugged, Austin’s faux pas seemed exactly that, his laugh tinged with fondness. “I’m insured.”

  “If you can peel her off that singer, I’d love to take a walk. I could use some fresh air.”

  Rory came by before he could locate Jemma again. He seemed distracted. He looked exhausted. Austin stepped in front of him to stop him from rushing past, but Rory looked through him, before recognizing his friend. “Hey, Aus, are you having a good time?” He sounded drunk.

  “I’m beat, Roar, so are you, dude. Time to shut it down. Send all these people home.” Austin, ever the worrier, forgot they were about to leave. “And get some sleep.”

  “What about you?” Rory, the other worrier, only worried about Austin. He followed Austin’s gaze to Heath. He blinked. Rapidly. Trying to hide what he was feeling. Heath had no idea why he could read the man he’d just met. He was trying not to show his jealous side.

  “Going to walk home, clear our heads. And go to sleep. Don’t…” Austin stopped talking and closed his eyes, dragging in a deep breath before he
opened them again. “Don’t come check on me, okay. Go upstairs and rest. I’m better. I’ll see you in the morning.”

  Rory made his entire face go blank as he nodded and stepped around his friend. “Yeah, sure. The city allowed me to stay open until two. I’m thinking I’m shutting down at one. We’ll clean up tomorrow. But you go, you look exhausted.”

  “Yeah,” Austin agreed, his face showing his guilt at leaving his friend. “I’m going. And you promise me you’ll rest?”

  “I promise,” Rory almost growled, the noise in the far corner growing louder and he stepped around Austin and was off at a run, through a dancing screaming drunk crowd of revelers.

  “Sucks to be him.” A new voice intruded, husky and sensual, and Heath had to wonder how anyone had ever mistaken her for a woman. And… he was just as much of a jerk as Austin had been.

  “Yeah, it does,” Austin whispered and leaned against the bar. He picked up the coffee mug Heath had abandoned just before the kiss and drained the last of his whiskey laced drink.

  “How drunk are you?” Heath asked Jemma as she slipped under his arm and wrapped herself around him.

  “I don’t drink alcohol,” she replied, smiling up at him. “In public, I mean. I can’t afford to be dressed like this and drunk. If you get my meaning. So… this is me sober.”

  “And the knockoff Bono?” Austin turned around, his face flushed from the whiskey now, instead of Heath’s kiss. “Is he going to…?” He slashed his hand in midair, the look on his face saying he was about to make a jackass out of himself. “Treat you, right?” Heath let out the breath he was holding when that didn’t go the way he expected.

  “If he doesn’t, I’ll kick his ass. Not kidding about all those black belts. Girls like me… well, I’d hate to lose a pair of expensive killer heels, the killer part being the operative word there. I can take care of myself Oz. But thank you for worrying about me. It’s sweet.”

  “Oz?” Austin cocked his head, her way, puzzlement on his face. “Like the wizard? Am I a wizard now?”

  “Easier to say than Austin, all the time. You need a nickname. You’re too…” she waved her hand as if she were waving a magic wand, indicating she’d change everything about him. “Academic… and those clothes are too big for you.”

  “They’re Rory’s. And I’m not too academic? What is too academic anyway? I am offended. I am—”

  Jemma grinned, her bright red lips stretching wide, her eyes sparkling. “Wearing another man’s clothes when you’re about to get laid, Oz? That is just wrong.”

  “Oh…” Austin looked down at the black short-sleeve shirt and black pants that were a bit too large, and very much not his style and winced. “Well. Who said I’m about to get laid? We’re not… we just met.”

  “And going for a walk in the cold to clear our heads, and sober up,” Heath shouted over the vigorous shrieking of something not in English coming from the stage. “And my head is starting to hurt. I think I’m too old for this much fun.”

  “You and me both,” Austin shouted back as the other two girls came up. Britney, barefoot with her heels over slung her shoulder, and Donna holding her up. “Are y’all drunk?”

  “Surprisingly, no,” Jemma answered when the girls fell over her, giggling like maniacs. “I think they’re just insane.”

  “Bitch, we’re the sanest people here. We make our own fun.” Britney pointed the finger that held her shoe strap. “Oh, there’s my shoes. I thought I lost them.”

  “They’re drunk,” Austin said, glancing over his shoulder to the bar, but there was no one tending.

  “So am I,” Heath remembered he’d planned to give Jemma the key fob to his car. He fished it out of his pocket and handed it to her. “Drive them home when you’re ready to go. Unless you have other plans.” He didn’t know if she wanted to be the designated driver.

  “Don’t know. Maybe.” Jemma held the fob, a wistful look on her face.

  “If you want to drive it… you know… somewhere… I’m cool with that.” Heath nodded, glancing over to the stage and the singer glaring in their direction despite jumping up and down and wailing at the top of his lungs. “Call if you need anything. Black belt or not.”

  Jemma slipped his key fob into her clutch and leaned up to plant a kiss on Heath’s cheek. “Thank you. That’s so… I hate to be trite and say sweet again, but really, it’s sweet. I… can’t think of a time when anyone worried about me.”

  Heath felt heat rise in his face. Or maybe he was just hot. The whiskey in the coffee hadn’t been his sanest idea this late at night. He’d be feeling both for a long time. “Yeah, well. Be careful on the ice. She’s touchy. The car, I mean.”

  “I understood,” she said, leaning up again. Heath thought she would kiss him again. Instead, she pulled him low and whispered in his ear. “Do not fuck in the main house. I swear to god if there’s cum on the wedding ring quilt again, I will… show you what these heels can really do.”

  “Yes Ma’am,” Heath said, the shiver racing down his spine had nothing to do with her warning. The room seemed to blur a bit as the strobe lights flashed right in his eyes. That’s what it was, just the seizure-inducing lighting effects, not one more massive case of déjà vu. With vertigo on top of it. Had to be the whiskey. “And on that note. I think I’ll say good night, ladies.”

  “Good night,” Britney and Donna called out, one waved, the other winked. Jemma smiled up at him, or smirked would be more accurate before leaning over to kiss Austin and whisper in his ear. The color he flushed indicated he’d received the same lecture.

  She sashayed away, the crowd parting for her as if she was the queen of the ball. Maybe she was.

  Rory came back before Austin could regain his composure. He stopped long enough to thrust a jacket out to Austin. “Stay warm. Get some sleep. Talk to you tomorrow.” He cast a sidelong glance at Heath before rushing off to take care of another group of rowdy revelers.

  Heath reached for the jacket when Austin did nothing but stand and clutch it while staring after his friend as if he were having second thoughts. Heath opened the jacket and held it out for Austin to slip into. Austin looked startled for a moment. As if he’d never had someone hold his jacket for him. “It won’t fit over the cast,” he said, looking away quickly.

  “Then just the one arm,” Heath hadn’t thought about that. “It’s cold outside.”

  “Yeah.” Austin nodded, his cheeks taking on a rosy tint. “Too cold for a short sleeve silk shirt.” He stepped into the jacket and slid his good arm into the sleeve. Heath fixed the collar over his shoulder and stepped back to give him room to arrange the jacket around his body as best he could. “This is awkward.”

  “Yes,” Heath agreed, though he didn’t know what was awkward. The jacket or the… they were not going off to fuck, no matter what everyone thought. They were just going for a walk. At midnight, on New Year’s Eve. Drunk. In the icy cold.

  “Well, okay then. Let’s go before Rory finds something for us to do. I’ve spent way too many New Year’s mornings washing dishes or mopping up after drunks who couldn’t make it to the toilet.”

  Heath turned toward the doorway at the same time Austin turned. They bumped into each other. Heath grabbed his hand to steady him. And forgot to let go.

  “This isn’t about sex,” Austin stated or asked, or maybe Heath thought it again, just as they stepped outside into the bitterly cold wind. “Fuck, it’s cold this year.”

  “It is,” Heath agreed. “I mean about the cold. It wasn’t this cold in New York when I left. I mean it is now, but… yes, this is cold. And… no about the sex. Unless you want to. I’m not pushing for anything.”

  “We just met.” Austin squeezed his hand and breathed deeply in the cold air. They stood on the sidewalk outside the pub. The thrum of the music, heavy in the air. There were a few people outside. Mostly standing around talking or smoking. No one seemed to pay them the slightest bit of attention. There wasn’t another business open on the street. Not t
hat Heath expected a twenty-four-hour coffee shop out here. He didn’t need any more coffee, anyway.

  “We just met. And I’m technically your employer.” Heath would give anything for pizza right now. “If we were in New York, there would be so many places we could go to talk.”

  “Maybe get a slice.” Austin turned right on the sidewalk, and Heath followed. “We need a pizzeria. There’s one empty store. If I had the ear of the property managers, I’d beg for a really good Italian place. Or maybe BBQ. But pizza would be awesome. I’m starving.”

  “I was just thinking that exactly. A wood-fired New York slice would be great. Or a burger. That would be good too. It’s only midnight and everything is closed.”

  They walked beyond the pub to the small gift store two doors down. “I’m from a small town in Middle Tennessee. I swore when I left to go to school, I’d never go back to a small town. Savannah wasn’t New York by any stretch of the imagination, but it was a nice sized little city with enough to do to keep me occupied. And then the four years in Atlanta taught me that there was such a thing as too much city with too much to do. So, I went back to Savannah for a semester here and there. I have no idea why I took this job. Not that this is a small town. But it’s not much more than a small town. Most of it rolls in its sidewalks at nine every night. Except the bars.”

  They moved past the gift shop to the dark windows of a vacant store. A coming soon sign hung on the door. Didn’t say what was ‘coming soon’ and Heath couldn’t remember what had been rented there. Not that he was in on the day-to-day dealings of the actual property management. That was not his department, even though he signed those paychecks as well.

  “I like a large city. I love New York. Most of the time. Lately… it’s been… I don’t know. I’d say almost suffocating, but that’s wrong. More like I don’t belong anymore.” Heath admitted to the reflections staring back from the dark windows.

  Austin met his gaze in the window, his gaze shifting to something over Heath’s head, his eyes growing large. He pivoted on his heel, and Heath had no choice but to turn or lose the warm hand clasped in his. He lost it anyway, as he followed Austin’s gaze to the sight that startled him.