Fast Connection (Cyberlove #2)

by Megan Erickson

  Dominic had said he planned to “broaden his scope.” I’d rolled those words around my skull for the last week, and every time, they made me queasy.

  I opened up my messages and fired one off to him.

  Luke: what are you up to?

  He didn’t reply for a minute.

  StaffSgt: figuring out where to meet someone

  Fuck, that sick feeling was coming back. Play it cool, Luke.

  Luke: Who?

  StaffSgt: This guy has been messaging me for like… a month. He’s a little younger than me, but built like a fucking truck from working on the docks. I finally figured, what the hell, and wrote him back. And he wants me to go to this halloween party at some club with him. I’m trying to think of an alternative but I got nothing

  Images of Dominic dressed up flashed through my mind. Eyeliner wearing, cape-slinging vampire. Sexy, suspender-clad firefighter. Shirtless, dirty construction worker. I was a one-man Buzzfeed article on slutty costumes.

  Luke: Sounds pretty rad. When is this?

  StaffSgt: Uh, Halloween? Tomorrow night. So it doesn’t interfere with our thing.

  Our thing. I was going to hit something.

  Luke: Oh right. Forgot.

  StaffSgt: You should come!

  Luke: Hell no

  StaffSgt: Ha. that’s what I thought.

  Luke: So…

  StaffSgt: I need a costume. What should I be?

  Helping him pick out clothes to wear on a date with another man was over the line for me. And I was smart enough to realize that was a problem. A huge fucking problem. I’d been the one to tell him to date and now I wanted to club him caveman-style and drag him back to my lair.

  I was so fucked. My stomach cramped, my head spun, and I was seeing red. I needed to end this convo now.

  Luke: You’ll look good no matter what you do, Captain America.

  Then I turned off my phone.

  I bent my head, gripping the tailgate as I took deep breaths. This hadn’t happened since… shit, I wasn’t sure this had ever happened. I wasn’t a jealous person. I didn’t get heated. Apathy was my armor. And right now, I was anything but apathetic.

  “Hey—”

  I whirled around at the sound of a voice to see George with his hands up, palms out, eyes wide. “Whoa, easy there.”

  I wiped my face, wishing I had cold water to douse myself with. “Sorry, I was…” I waved a hand. “What’s up?”

  George mopped his brow with a bandana. “You okay?”

  “Sure.”

  He jerked his head toward the yard behind us. “All done. Wanna grab a beer?”

  “Yeah, that’d be great.”

  George clapped me on the shoulder. “Meet you at Murph’s.”

  I texted the kids I’d be late and climbed into my truck. The best thing about Murph’s was that it was a blue-collar bar. I didn’t have to shower or even wipe the dirt off my face, because just about every patron in there worked with their hands for a living.

  When I pulled into the parking lot, George was already standing by the front door with his cell to his ear. When I approached, he ended the call.

  “Everything okay?” I held open the door for him.

  “Stella and Cyn are fighting over how long to cook linguine. Swear to Christ, I’m going to strangle myself with al dente pasta.”

  I laughed as he sat down at the bar. “Sounds really ineffective.”

  “Bah.”

  He signaled the bartender, who plunked down our usual IPAs. I drank half of it in one go. When I lowered the bottle to the bar, George was staring at me.

  “What?”

  He took a pull of his beer before speaking. “You’ve been a little distracted lately.”

  “Look, I’m sorry—”

  “Don’t apologize to me. You’re still doing your job. Just saying you’re usually quiet because you don’t have anything to say. Lately you’re quiet because it seems like you have too much going on in your head.”

  I gaped at him. Sure, George and I were friends, but I’d never realized he was that observant. “Wow.”

  “This about the kids?”

  I shook my head.

  “Nadia?”

  “Nah, she’s great. New man and everything.”

  “Your boyfriend?”

  I snorted. “He’s not my boyfriend.”

  As soon as the words were out of my mouth, I froze. I’d never told George I was bisexual. There’d been no need.

  Slowly, I released the tension in my muscles, then drained the rest of my beer before asking for another. Whatever. George couldn’t fire me. I was the one signing his paychecks. I risked a glance at him, and he was nodding, his brow furrowed.

  “Is that the problem then? You want him to, uh, be your boyfriend?”

  This conversation was surreal. “So we’re just going to have a normal conversation about me being into dick? That’s how you’re playing this?”

  George’s complexion went a little ruddy, but he didn’t flinch. “Yeah, it’s not like it’s a surprise.”

  “How is it not a surprise? I was married to a woman and we have two kids.”

  He frowned at me. “Well, there’s a thing called bisexual, where—”

  “Are you seriously explaining bisexuals to me?”

  George began to laugh. I plunked my head onto the bar, muttering about straightsplaining. I nudged him with my elbow. “How’d you know, though?”

  “Remember the son of that lady in Tottenville? The one with the yellow Corvette? We did the landscaping around her pool.”

  Ah, yeah. Paul. He’d begged for it and I’d taken him up on it. “Yeah.”

  “Come on, you think I’m blind? You two were making eyes at each other.”

  Now it was my turn to laugh. “Okay, okay.”

  “So what’s got you messed up?”

  Relationship talk with George. Never saw that coming.

  “Told this guy he could see other people. He’s actually doing it. And I’m not okay with it after all.”

  George stroked his beard. “Huh. Well, guess that’s your own doing.”

  I gulped my beer. “Yup.”

  “And why did you tell him to see other people?”

  “So it wouldn’t get serious.”

  “I see. And it happened anyway.”

  I shrugged.

  “So what’re you gonna do?”

  I hadn’t thought that far ahead through my green haze of jealousy. “No idea, man.”

  George tapped the bar with his fingers. “So the way I see it. You have two options. Don’t stop him from doing his thing and, since you can’t handle sharing, cut him loose. Or put your cards on the table, be honest with him, and be happy. Right now, you’re a real sad sack.”

  I nearly spit out my beer. “Am I that bad?”

  “I see you every day. I’m used to you. So when you’re off, I feel it. And I don’t like it.”

  “You’re a good man, George.”

  “You think so? Then go out for beer with me more often so I can escape my house.”

  I paid his tab and spent the rest of night the waffling between the two options. Forget about Dominic or convince him I was a better bet than some mid-twenties Staten Island meathead?

  Staking a claim to Dominic would mean letting him further into my life. Once my kids found out I was seeing Adriana’s brother, there’d be no stopping our families meshing together. Who knew how that could ripple?

  The idea should have caused me to break out in a cold sweat, but picturing Dominic on my couch playing video games with Micah didn’t make my stomach turn.

  Was I ready to do that?

  Of course the one man I was willing to abandon my principles for was the brother of my son’s girlfriend. Jesus fucking Christ. My situation was Days of our Staten Island Lives.

  By the time I got home, I’d half convinced myself I didn’t need the drama. I didn’t need Dominic.

  But I knew I was fooling myself.

  Chapter
Twelve

  Dominic

  TheDon: so, what’re you wearing tonight?

  StaffSgt: You really wanna know? I thought we said it was gonna be a surprise

  TheDon: ehhhh that’s kinda gay. Just let me see.

  StaffSgt: I’m not wearing it just yet, boo. Party isn’t for three hours.

  TheDon: fuck. Im anxious. I want to fuckin see you.

  StaffSgt: ;) You must really like costumes.

  TheDon: when theyre on twink bitches who want their asses fucked open? Fuck yes.

  I was pretty sure I was too big to qualify as a twink, but what the hell did I know about Grindr lingo? Nothing. I did know that this dude was fond of calling me his bitch and that during our first sext exchange he’d referred to my ass as a boy pussy. Maybe that was a thing for some people, but it had confused me just enough to take me out of the whole convo.

  Not that I’d been in it. While he jacked it and typoed breathlessly, I’d been eating a hero sandwich from Belfiore’s (the better sandwich spot) and watching football. Faking sexting was a new low for me, but my interest was literally in the negatives. Don’t get me wrong—the guy was hot. First of all, his name was Calogero. I was convinced his parents had named him after the character in A Bronx Tale, because I’d never met another human with that name. Second, his body was sick. He probably spent his every free moment in the gym. He was also covered in tats. And he had long hair. Everything about him should have been right up my alley, but… wasn’t.

  He just seemed like a dumb hot guy who would piss me off at the gym by tossing around the dumbbells. And calling me his bitch. What was that about, anyway? Like me wanting to get nailed made me less of a man than him? That was bullshit. He seemed kind of sexist. I bet he was a fucking Republican.

  I typed out the question and deleted it. No. It was better not to know until after the date. The date which I was only going on since Luke had offered up absolutely zero resistance. I hadn’t expected him to, but I’d at least hoped for a reaction after I’d mentioned potentially getting some dick a couple days before riding his.

  Which brought to mind questions of my own—was he fucking with other dudes? There was no way. Unless… I was his Friday night and he’d had a Saturday night date with someone else this whole time. The thought had never crossed my mind until now. I’d have to do some scoping next weekend.

  And now I was planning to spy on him. As if trying to see if he’d get jealous wasn’t bad enough. Especially since I hadn’t started talking to Calogero with the intention of using him as a big dumb ploy in a grand scheme to get a reaction out of Luke. I’d really wanted to hang out with someone who wouldn’t mind being seen in public with me. And that had been the first thing Mr. Bronx Tale had suggested. Not a handjob or a quickie. A date.… Followed closely by a handjob and a quickie.

  Yet here I was, using the poor bastard and internally mocking him at every given moment.

  StaffSgt: I’m gonna go get ready. I’ll send you a pic.

  TheDon: you btr

  Why couldn’t he just type “better”? Jesus.

  Scowling, I switched messages and stared at Luke’s profile picture. He was online.

  StaffSgt: Help me out

  Luke: With?

  StaffSgt: My costume. FDNY T-shirt, or suspenders and no shirt?

  Luke: Whatever is easiest.

  StaffSgt: To take off?

  Luke: …

  Luke: Dominic, are you fucking with me?

  Now that was an interesting response…

  I slumped on the ratty armchair in my basement haven and stared at the words. He was either getting annoyed, or he knew I was trying to get a rise out of him. It was probably a combination of both, which meant it was time to cut the shit.

  StaffSgt: Nah, I’m just joking. ;) I know you’re not interested in my stupid costume.

  Luke: Uh huh.

  StaffSgt: what are you doing tonight?

  Luke: Putting a ‘no candy’ sign on my porch.

  StaffSgt: You fucking grinch.

  Luke: I’m not fond of a tradition that requires people to open the door for strangers. Or for kids to take candy from strangers.

  StaffSgt: Geez. You must have been a blast for the kids when they were little.

  Luke: Their mom didn’t let me ruin their fun.

  StaffSgt: So… you’re the disciplinarian? I’d expect the tough lawyer lady to be

  Luke: How do you know she’s a lawyer?

  StaffSgt: Adriana mentioned it when she was talking about Micah

  Luke: I see.

  StaffSgt: Sorry

  Luke: It’s fine. I just wondered. Anyway, Nadia is laid back. She’s lax on rules that she thinks seem too helicoptery. Her word not mine.

  StaffSgt: I wish my father would take a tip from her and ease back on Adriana… I swear to God shit wasn’t this bad when I was younger. He was always shouting, but I thought it was normal back then, you know?

  Luke: I do know. What was normal back then isn’t anymore, and that’s a good thing.

  StaffSgt: Agreed, dude. Fuck. I don’t know how I’m going to leave her here. He’ll need a new verbal punching bag once I move out. She already gets it almost as much as me.

  Luke: I don’t like the sound of that. I really don’t.

  Holy hell, how the hell had I gone from wanting to make him jealous to textual vomit about my messed-up family? And how the hell was someone so taciturn so good at making me comfortable enough to spill my guts? It was a phenomenon. An unheard-of plot twist. Made no sense. Especially since it was my family, and my lack of… anything, that had me convinced me and him would never work out in the long run. He was a real person with a real life, and I just sort of… existed in the world and took up space.

  Luke: Did you register for the EMT class yet?

  StaffSgt: no but I plan to soon

  Luke: Good for you.

  StaffSgt: Thanks, man. I figured I should stop being scared of failing, and worrying about what my dad thinks, and make something of myself. Give Adriana at least one person she can use as a role model, you know?

  Luke: You’re a good role model anyway, Dominic.

  StaffSgt: Heh. Yeah. Riiiight.

  Luke: I wouldn’t bullshit you. You know that. The fact that you want to do right by your sister proves it. I respect that.

  He was making me feel things that I had no business feeling when I was about to go on a date with another guy. Every time I tried to give him space and take a step back, something happened to pull me even closer. This back and forth was a dangerous game that I couldn’t keep playing. Especially not when I figured I’d come out with a loss.

  Luke: Hey, kid. Why don’t you swing by before your date? I want to see you in your firefighter getup.

  StaffSgt: Seriously?

  Luke: Yeah. The kids are at the parade with their mom. Probably gonna sleep in Hoboken and she’ll let them take off school tomorrow.

  StaffSgt: Nice of her

  Luke: yeah yeah. You coming?

  StaffSgt: Uh… yeah. Of course. Anything you want.

  Luke: See you soon.

  I closed out Grindr but kept staring at my phone.

  This was the opposite of a good idea, but there was no way I was going to be able to stay away.

  Luke had me whipped, and I couldn’t do anything to stop it.

  * * *

  Luke

  I stared at my phone in horror long after I closed out Grindr. I’d… invited him over.

  Before a date with another guy.

  I was either into masochism or sabotage and I wasn’t sure which would win. I’d told myself all day I’d let him do his thing. Meet other people. Quit hanging onto hope that my complicated ass would give him more than a fuck every weekend.

  There was a knock at the door, and I considered for about point-two seconds pretending I wasn’t home. But it wasn’t time for trick-or-treating yet.

  I placed my hand on the doorknob and took a deep breath. I could do this. See him all hot
and send him on his way with another man. I was an adult. Dominic wasn’t mine.

  I opened up the door, and the mantras I’d recited all day went right out the window.

  Dominic stood on my front porch, blond hair sticking out from underneath a black FDNY ballcap. He wore a pair of boots, bunker pants, and red suspenders over his bare chest.

  Bare.

  All that Dominic flesh I’d mapped with my fingers and tongue, that body I’d felt under mine for the last couple of months, that goddamn smirk I’d dreamed of, was all right there on my front porch.

  For someone else.

  The rush of blazing heat roaring through my body culminated in one single thought: No. Fucking. Way.

  I gripped a red suspender, tugged him inside the house, and threw the door shut. I probably looked lust-crazed if I judged by Dominic’s jaw-dropped expression. All my thoughts mashed together with protectiveness and possessiveness and emotions I hadn’t felt in… ever.

  He wasn’t like Jake—a man who’d gone to terrifying lengths to keep me from drifting away. And had ultimately only pushed me away even faster. And I wasn’t the same man who’d let Jake take it that far. Nadia was right. I didn’t have to be like this.

  Within a few seconds of him being in the house, I was gripping his face and digging my fingers into his skull as I kissed the living fuck out of him. It was the only way I could communicate when I had this traffic jam of pleas in my throat.

  And Dominic… he kissed me back, warm and alive and so fucking him, grinding against me without hesitation. I was such a prick for doing this to him, but I couldn’t stop myself. It was one of the few times I’d been out of control in the nearly four decades I’d been alive.

  All because of him.

  He tugged down my sweats and gripped my cock. No finesse, just rough strokes. I managed to tug down his suspenders so the bunker pants pooled around his ankles along with his boxers.