by Kora Knight
SIDELINE SUBMISSION
UP-ENDING TAD
VOLUME THREE
KORA KNIGHT
Copyright © 2014
Kora Knight
ASIN: B00PYBITZS
Amazon Digital Services, Inc.
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form without written permission from the author. The characters and events portrayed in this book are fictional. Any similarity to real persons, living and or dead is coincidental and not intended by the author
SIDELINE SUBMISSION
“Quitting time, people. Clock out and get out.”
Tad looked up from his work station to catch the Morning Star’s mailroom supervisor standing in the doorway. Grey-haired and grinning, the guy was visibly ready to roll. Hot date or some shit?
“Aw. C’mon, boss man,” Tad drawled. “Just one more hour?”
“Hell, no,” the guy chuckled. “And especially not for you, Mr. Mitchel. You hit overtime and it’s my ass on the line.”
Tad smirked as the older man disappeared back into the hallway. He supposed he had been putting in more hours lately than usual. Guess he didn’t realize just how many. Truth was, he’d been using work to keep himself busy, his mind occupied, for the past month. Or more specifically, since the last time he’d seen Scott. Add those efforts to all the extra time he’d been spending with his friends and he’d say it’d been working out pretty well. Hell, he hadn’t called, texted, or stopped by the guy’s house once in four weeks.
How often he’d been thinking about the dude was another story entirely.
Sighing, he pushed away from the sorting counter and meandered over to an adjacent wall of cubbies. The frustrating truth of the matter was, his hopes to purge Scott from his brain via distance and time had failed bigger than shit. Even now, he’d yet to stop obsessing over the guy. In fact, his urge to see Scott had only become more persistent. With each day that passed, his restlessness got worse.
Tad frowned, shoving the last of his armful of office memos into their designated slots. If he was honest with himself, he’d admit that his irritating anxiousness wasn’t solely because he’d been depriving himself of Scott’s company—something he’d grown way too fond of way too fast—but also because of the unsettling fact that Scott hadn’t once tried to contact him either. He had Tad’s digits, so what was his excuse? Granted, Tad hadn’t told him to call, but so the fuck what. Scott was a proactive kind of guy, and considering what they’d engaged in together, Tad should definitely be worth the effort. Shouldn’t he?
Pivoting on his heel, he headed over to his employee locker to gather up his shit. Eyeing the acceptance letter he’d received earlier that day, he sighed. Just the sight of it alone should’ve made him smile—he’d been gunning for that internship for nearly a year—but his headspace just wouldn’t allow it. Why hadn’t Scott tried to get in touch with him? Had the guy’s heated promise, “Just one more time,” been a lot more literal than Tad realized?
His gut clenched tight. Jesus. Did Scott not want him around anymore if they couldn’t keep fucking? Swallowing down a cold lump of chagrin, Tad swiped up his keys and messenger bag. God, if that was the case… the urge to puke hit him like a sledgehammer. For some reason, the idea of being discarded by Scott was more than he could stomach.
He froze as something occurred to him. Was this the way he’d made Scott feel the last time they’d parted ways? The expression on the guy’s face would definitely have supported as much. Tad remembered thinking he looked not just pissed, but upset. Like he thought Tad was walking away from their “situation”—right after they’d had some seriously amazing sex. Had Scott felt like Tad had used him on some level? Taken what his body had wanted while disregarding the guy’s feelings?
He scrubbed his face with a groan. No wonder Scott hadn’t tried to contact him. He probably thought Tad was a massive dick. Hell, maybe on some level he kind of was. But he hadn’t meant to be. Scott just had a way of fucking with his reality. Both times they’d been together, he’d come out the same: head spinning and utterly floored. So, in his defense, he hadn’t exactly been thinking straight. But what if Scott hadn’t known that? What if he wrote Tad off as one big, self-centered prick?
Shouldering his messenger bag, he shoved through the mailroom doors and headed for the stairs. With countless businesses sharing office space in the same building as the Morning Star, this time of day’s mass exodus left the elevators way too packed. But that was okay. Tad enjoyed the stairwell workout. Though lately, anything cardio related—hell, anything at all that got his heart rate climbing—reminded him of Scott. Which was pathetic… but also fitting, considering how the guy always got his blood pumping. It was bizarre, really. Like the big fucker’s pheromones were laced with crack.
Regressing, Tad scowled and took to the steps. If Scott really did feel like Tad had used him—like some big ironing board to help him straighten shit out—then maybe he should call the guy. Just to reassure him that that wasn’t the case. Because it wasn’t. Not really. Unfortunately, now that so much time had passed without any communication, the idea of an out-of-the-blue “hey, how are ya?” made him want to cringe. Things would surely be different now… making a random call painfully awkward.
Tad rounded a turn in the stairwell and continued to climb, slowed down by a cluster of laughing, chatter-box women. Sighing, he shouldered his bag’s strap higher. He supposed he could always play pussy again and send the guy another text. That route was always pretty good at alleviating the awkward. But even then, what would he say? His little reach-out-and-touch-someone couldn’t be solely an apology for his curt departure after their fuck session. Hell no, he’d have to camouflage that shit with other legitimate matters.
But what?
Another round behind the camera? Honestly, revisiting that venture a second time would probably hit too close to home. And though he absolutely wanted to hang out with the guy again, he was afraid that suggestion might be taken the wrong way. At this stage in the game, the last thing he wanted to do was string the guy along and end up hurting him somehow. If he hadn’t already. And with that in mind, even though he really wanted to explain to the guy that his intensions had never been to fuck him over, what if reconnecting now only opened up old wounds?
Tad rolled his eyes, passing an exceptionally slow trio of stair-goers. Egotistical much, dumbass? Chances were Scott had shucked him from his mind weeks ago. Lord knew that guy had a pretty tight schedge with plenty of other people to keep his thoughts occupied. His roommate, his clients, all those classes he taught at the gym. Besides, a lot could happen in a month. Maybe the dude found himself another ‘buddy’ to hang with. He certainly had the personality and looks. All he’d have to do was work those baby browns and people would be lining up.
Tad groaned, feeling like a complete loser. Because while Scott had most likely been off making new friends, Tad had been scrambling for a whole fucking month just to stay distracted. Which hadn’t been easy in the beginning, and sure as hell wasn’t easy now. Hell, the mere act of relinquishing “their video” to a safety deposit box had nearly done him in. Yeah. How pathetic was that. All because he couldn’t bring himself to throw it away. Seemed that somewhere down the line, the option of getting rid of it had quietly slid off the table. So, he’d resorted to what felt like the next best logical solution. The tried and true old adage: out of sight, out of mind.
Problem was, he still needed a laptop for projects and homework. Which, ugh, made Scott’s blog site entirely too a
ccessible. Before long he’d visited the thing way too many times to count. Because, yup, he was indeed a total fucking loser. Sneaking glimpses of a guy he had no business pining after? Seriously, after trolling the site for the sixth time in a week, he had to be classified as some kind of stalker. And man, how lame was that?
But damn it, since he couldn’t see the guy in person, that was like his only other option. And fuck, did Scott look great. All well-groomed and buff, sharing his crazy brilliant mind with the world. Turned out he’d uploaded the video they’d made not long after they’d shot it. Which was cool. Tad liked watching them together. It made him smile. Because there was this underlying vibe going on that he was pretty sure no one else could see but him. But it was there. He was sure of it. Felt it every fucking time he watched the thing. Which, yeah, was a pathetically ridiculous amount of times.
But since then, Scott had put up another video. The abs video he’d asked Tad to help him with. The same one Tad had pretty much left him hanging on. So, he supposed it served him right to have to watch Scott with that other guy. Thankfully, Scott hadn’t stood too close, or touched the dude that often. But the times he had? It’d been all Tad could do not to chuck his damn laptop. In fact, he’d eventually shut the thing off. He couldn’t afford another computer.
Talk about a jagged little pill.
Shaking his head, he exited the stairwell and made his way through the bustling lobby. Scott’s new recruit wasn’t the only new development since the last time he’d seen the guy. He’d also run into those shithead jocks at another weekend frat party. Even now the memory made him grin. Seemed Scott hadn’t been kidding about giving them a piece of his mind. Hell, from the state they’d been in, he’d given them a piece of his fist and both feet, too. Because while only one had his arm all trussed up in a sling, all three were sporting shiners. And split lips. And busted noses. One dude even had a string of stitches above his eye.
Nice.
But the coolest thing of all was when their eyes had locked with his. He’d expected an immediate we’ll-get-you-for-this glare, but instead was only greeted with wariness. As if they were nervous to be in the same room as him. Tad couldn’t help wondering what the hell had gone down. What had Scott said to them? What had he done? God, to have been a fly on that wall when shit went down. Just the thought of Scott putting them down on Tad’s behalf made his insides all warm and gooey. Which seemed like a totally lame way to feel. Thing was, he liked the odd, new sensation. Too bad it only came around where Scott was concerned.
His train of thought shifted as he sidestepped a chick who’d stopped to dig through her purse. Cute and blonde, she reminded him of Tory, the co-worker he’d had drinks with a few weeks back. Though she’d been asking him out for ages, him finally accepting her invite had little to do with finding her attractive and everything to do with the disturbing little convo he’d had with his buddies the day before.
Ned had been going on and on about some brick house redhead he’d scored. Breck had chimed in a few minutes later, although seemingly just to shut the guy up. And though Jay was never one to kiss and tell, his preening face alone suggested he’d recently engaged in some serious hot sauce with Marcie. Yet none of them, not one, razzed Tad to add to the pot. He realized then that they rarely ever did. He supposed he’d always been too busy being grateful to ever wonder why. But now that those jocks’ “closet case” comments were rattling around in his brain, his friends’ behavior suddenly felt suspicious.
Did they secretly believe the same fucking thing?
Hell, the night he’d texted Jay saying he was out with a girl—when really he’d been tied to Scott’s Wall of Confliction—the guy never once ribbed him later for the lowdown. Yet he always did relentlessly whenever Breck and Ned scored. Had he thought Tad was bullshitting and just let it go?
The idea had unsettled Tad so freaking bad that he’d decided to test his theory. And man, had the results been less than reassuring. Because the second he’d piped in to their little hoochie heyday—informing them he’d decided to take his co-worker out on a date—his friends had nearly choked on their beer. He’d actually been insulted by their incredulous expressions.
“What?” he’d scowled, squaring his shoulders, hoping he was reading them wrong. “She’s cute. And nice. And… s’got a great rack.”
His buddies just stared… then swapped confused looks.
Finally, Jay shrugged, giving a nod. “Sure, brah, whatever. I’m sure she’s cool. Shit, you’ve never had a problem attracting the hotties.” He’d smiled and lifted his fist for a bump. “Knock it outta the park, Casanova.”
Tad had frowned, feeling nothing but placated. Breck and Ned’s halfhearted nods hadn’t helped, especially with the way they were suddenly eyeing him. Their blatant skepticism set him instantly on edge, solidifying his resolve to go on that fucking date. Because up until that moment, it’d been just hypothetical—a mere tool he’d used to feel out his friends. But their responses had turned it into something else. A way to prove he was willing and able to handle a stupid date. So, he’d called Tory up and asked her out.
And mother of God, what a mistake that’d been.
Exiting the building alongside the masses, Tad cringed at the memory. Their innocent outing for a couple simple drinks had swiftly turned not so innocent. Instead, he’d found himself in the disturbing snares of a heated game of cat and mouse. And fuck if he hadn’t been the goddamn mouse. Evidently, little Tory couldn’t hold her liquor… and had an aggressive side. After only two gin and tonics, her kittenish disposition morphed abruptly into a horny lioness.
Note to self: Never fucking ever buy a chick a goddamn drink without stuffing her full of food first.
Holy freaking shit, she’d been relentless. Frisky hands everywhere, hungry eyes eating him up. And, God, the stuff she kept whispering in his ear. He was pretty sure he’d blanched nearly half dozen times while frantically trying to ward her off.
Seriously. And people thought guys were the pervs?
Needless to say, he hadn’t been able to wrap things up fast enough. Dropping her off with a friendly smile, he’d even dodged her lunge for a kiss. Ironically, he couldn’t have been more grateful that his friends hadn’t asked for a recap.
As his feet hit the parking lot, bee-lining it toward the aisle that’d take him to his Jeep, his iPhone blared to life. Speak of the devils. Not that he was surprised. It was Tuesday, after all. The allotted day of the week that their little posse convened at the gym after class—or in his case, after work. And man, the distraction couldn’t have come at a better time. Tad needed a serious break from thinking. Working the mailroom allowed way too much time to ponder.
Digging out his cell, he accepted the call. “Yo.”
A low, amused timbre met his ear. “Yo?”
Tad stopped short, nearly dropping his phone. Just one syllable and he recognized the owner. “Scott… uh… hey, dude. Thought you were someone else.”
“Yeah,” he chuckled. “Kinda figured that.”
Tad’s insides went nuts. God, it felt good to hear his voice. Too good, even. Like a tidal wave of relief had just plowed him over. Which was kind of alarming. Never had a simple voice had such a powerful effect. Let alone a guy’s.
“So…” Scott prompted when Tad failed to reply. “Am I catching you at a bad time?”
Tad shook his head, stepping out of the flow of pedestrian traffic so he could take it slow to the side. With his undivided attention so fully on Scott, walking while talking might get a little tricky. “No, you’re good. Just heading out of work.” A big goofy smile curved his lips. Fuck it. He didn’t care. He was too busy reeling that the guy had actually called. “So, wow, it’s been a while. How’ve you been?”
“Meh. Staying busy. You know; same shit, different day. You?”
Tad nodded, shoving his free hand deep into his pocket. “Yup. Same.”
Scott’s soft, velvet tone turned teasing. “Mm. All work and no play.”
A shit ton of dormant fluttery things bombarded Tad’s gut. Gaze dropping to the ground, his smile turned boyish. “Yeah, man. When you gonna fix that shit?”
Scott laughed. “Workin’ on it, but cloning’s slow business.”
“Uh huh. Excuses, excuses,” Tad razzed. “Well, hurry your ass up. This school and job crap is getting old.”
“Haha. Well, at least now I know why you haven’t been around. Was starting to think you were avoiding me.”
Tad’s smile faded, a flare of guilt extinguishing the commotion in his belly. “Uh, no,” he chuckled awkwardly, wincing at the asphalt. “You know… papers for school… long hours at work.” Some big dude hustling by bumped him as he passed. Knocked off balance, Tad glared at the guy’s back. Rude much? Shaking his head, he cleared his throat and dropped his gaze back down. “Anyway, I was actually… uh… thinking about giving you a call.”
Not really, but he’d totally wanted to.
“Yeah?” Scott asked, his voice sounding lighter.
Tad’s smile returned. “Yeah. Figured, I dunno, maybe you’d wanna do another video.” Again, not exactly a hundred percent truth, but if it got that other dude out of the picture…
“Hmm. Well, as it turns out, I could use your help. But not with a video.”
Slowing his pace, Tad lifted a brow. “Yeah?”
“Yeah. You heading off to class soon?”
“Uh, no. Tuesdays are actually my one night off.”
“No shit,” Scott murmured, a smile palpable in his tone. “Mine, too. Which is why I’d kinda need your help tonight.”
Tonight?
Tad’s heart gave his ribcage a happy kick as those stupid fucking fluttery things roared back to life. What kind of help, exactly, did Scott need? Not that it really mattered. Chances were good that any kind at all would be totally fine with Tad, especially since the last time he’d “helped” the guy out, it proved to be far from a chore. Hell, Scott had even “helped” him, too.
