Tied to Trouble (Gamers)

by Megan Erickson

  Owen blinked, a flash of disappointment over his face, then he stepped back, that guard flying back up in an instant, so quick, Chad swore he heard a clang. Owen’s body tensed, and Chad missed the content Owen as soon as he was gone. Owen nodded stiffly, lifting his hand to his throat, then dropping it awkwardly when he realized nothing was there. “Right, uh, right. That’s not us, is it?”

  Chad opened his mouth, because shit, he’d fucked up again, but Owen was shaking his head. “I’ll email Austin and I guess I’ll…see you when we get our next assignment.” He used air quotes when he said “assignment,” then seemed to stare at his hands like they embarrassed him. He shoved them in his pockets. “So, I’ll see you. When I see you.”

  When he walked away, Chad didn’t call him back. Because frankly, for the first time in his life, he didn’t know what to say.

  Chapter Eight

  Owen managed to avoid Chad for two weeks. Two weeks during which he accepted Austin’s emails and delegated jobs to Chad by emailing him in as few words as possible.

  Which he was good at. He was a copy editor, after all.

  But that didn’t stop him from thinking about Chad, oh, no. Hell, no. Because Chad was all he thought about—that smirk and those lips and those hands and that perfect, perfect ass that was out of Owen’s dreams. Although he couldn’t get over the fact that he’d had his hands down the pants of a guy whose email address was chadtothebone. Jesus Christ. That should have been his first clue they weren’t compatible for anything out of the bedroom.

  Still, even though he hated to admit it, he missed Chad. The guy was smart, always had a comeback or sarcastic comment. At first, it annoyed the hell out of Owen, but now he found himself wishing for the conversations that always kept him on his toes.

  He missed Chad’s voice calling him O and making fun of his slow driving and his fashion choices.

  He’d broken down after three days and begun wearing a bow tie again. And he had every day since.

  This was crazy—lunacy, even. Tyler would die if he knew straitlaced Owen was fucking in a public park with a bow tie wrapped around his dick like the kinkiest gay present that ever was.

  Tyler had been safe and calm and everything Owen thought he wanted. On paper, Chad was everything Owen disliked, but in the flesh, Chad was…Chad. Funny and hot and a lot of things Owen missed now that he wasn’t around.

  Owen closed his eyes and clutched his red pen so tightly in his fist, he had to ease up the pressure before he snapped it. Here he was at work again, his mind wandering. Marley had mentioned his sour mood, and it’d been hard not to snap at her and tell her it was all her brother’s fault. He had no idea what she’d do if she found out.

  But he and Chad were done. Completely. So all he had to do was tough this part out, the part where the image of Chad was fresh in his mind. As soon as that image faded, he’d be all right. He’d be himself again.

  Plain, mystery-reading, workaholic Owen.

  That was what he wanted, right?

  His phone rang and he picked it up. “Copy desk, this is Owen.”

  “Can you come to my office, please?” Marley asked.

  “Usually you email me with this type of request.”

  “I’d also like a Diet Coke. Can you grab one from the vending machine for me?”

  Owen smiled. “Sure, there’ll be a fifty-cent travel tax.”

  Marley whistled. “That’s a steep tax. What is that, like 50 percent?”

  “I’m tired today.”

  “Owen, just get your butt in here with my freaking soda.”

  When he arrived in her office with a soda and bonus pack of chips in his hand, she forgave him. He waived the tax.

  “So,” Marley said after taking a sip of her soda. “Good news! Grant will be here to entertain the Esher clients.”

  He nearly melted into his chair with relief. Until Marley kept talking. “Bad news is that I won’t be here, so Grant wants you along.”

  He worked on yoga breathing even though he’d only taken one class and nearly twisted his ankle doing the downward dog. He could do this. This was what he wanted, and now he was being asked to step up, by the owner of the magazine, no less. Get it together, Owen. “Oh, well, that’s an honor.”

  Marley raised her eyebrows, like she didn’t trust his stiff, formal tone. “It won’t be all on your shoulders. Grant will take the lead, but he wants another employee there with him, and that’s you, my boy.”

  Owen had the knowledge about the magazine and the industry in that gray matter in his skull. That was for sure. Whether he could convey that in a way that attracted an advertiser? He wasn’t so sure. He’d have to get his nerves under control and act like a professional.

  His nerves must have shown, because Marley leaned forward, giving him her best pep-talk voice. “You’ve been here for eight years—you know the magazine. You’re like an encyclopedia of Gamers knowledge.”

  He blew out a breath. “I don’t doubt what I know. I doubt my ability to impress strangers.”

  Marley smiled. “Just take Grant’s lead, and it’ll be fine. Your main goal is to impress them. Grant’s is to keep them happy. But no matter who they’re talking to, their wish is your command, okay?”

  Owen nodded.

  “You look like you’re going to vomit.”

  He waved a hand and deadpanned, “I just had some bad tuna.”

  Marley snorted a laugh, and Owen joined her, his chest finally filling with air again. He could do this. He could use this opportunity to impress clients—and Grant.

  Marley’s cell phone beeped, and she glanced at it with a frown.

  “Everything okay?” Owen asked.

  Marley shook her head distractedly. “Yeah, it’s just my brother.”

  Retreat! He started to push up from his seat. “Oh, uh…”

  “I don’t know what’s been with him lately. He usually texts me novels, but the last week or two, I have to practically beg him to text me back. When he does, it’s all one-word answers.”

  Owen swallowed and sank back into his chair. “Have you called him?”

  Marley waved a hand as she opened up her chip bag. “No, Chad is Chad. He’s probably off doing someone or something. It never lasts long. He’ll eventually show back up at my place to eat all my food and play with my cat.”

  It never lasts long. Yeah, that was about right. Owen was just one of Chad’s flings. One in a long line. And man, that hurt, because to him, the time they’d spent together had been more real than he wanted to admit.

  “Well, I’m sure you’ll see him soon.” Owen’s voice sounded hollow in his ears.

  Marley didn’t notice, her gaze on her computer screen. “Yeah, I love him, but he’s something else.”

  Owen stood up, his chest feeling hollow. “He must be.”

  “I should introduce you two sometime,” Marley called as he made his way toward the door. “Chad can help you get your social life off the ground.”

  He already had, damn it. Owen scowled. “I don’t need it off the ground.”

  “Okay, so he’ll help you make a social life…exist.”

  “Marley…”

  She pursed her lips. “Okay, sorry, I’m meddling.”

  “Yes.” And this conversation was making him sick to his stomach.

  “Thanks for helping out Grant on this, Owen.”

  “Sure.” And then he was out of there, back to the safety of his desk and articles about video games and his red pen.

  …

  Marley propped her feet on the seat beside her and leaned back on her stool.

  Drying a glass, Chad smirked at her. His sister hardly ever stopped by Blue Moon, and certainly not during the day. “Getting comfortable?”

  “This is my day off,” she said, sipping her iced coffee through a straw.

  “You know we don’t allow outside beverages.”

  “You’re not even open.”

  “Good point, so why are you here?”

  “I too
k a mental health day.”

  “So go take care of your mental health away from my bar.” He didn’t mean the words, really. He was pleased Marley came to visit him. And anyway, if he got all mushy on her, she’d think something was wrong.

  She grinned at him and scanned the dance floor. “This is fun. Kinda looks weird during the day without a bunch of drunk people grinding on each other.”

  Chad snorted and picked up another glass to dry.

  She rested her chin on her hands. “So what are you doing here so early? Your boss isn’t even here yet.”

  “I offered to pick up some more shifts.”

  Marley frowned. “You need money?”

  No, but I do if I want to go back to school. “What? I can’t do something proactive?”

  “I didn’t mean it that way, don’t get defensive.”

  “I’m not destitute, but why not work more if I have the time?”

  She looked confused, which irritated Chad. But he couldn’t blame her. He’d never done something like this before—actively worked to move ahead.

  “Okay,” she said finally. “You’ll let me know if you need anything, right?”

  “Of course,” he said, turning away so he didn’t have to see the concern in her eyes. He began to wipe down the shelves behind the bar, consciously aware Marley was behind him, staring at his back.

  There was the sound of her straw draining her coffee. “So, are you seeing someone?” she asked quietly.

  “Why do you think I’m seeing someone?” he asked.

  “Because you’ve been a little distant lately. I called you and told you that I bought that cool mortar and pestle thing for guacamole and you haven’t shown up once to use it yet.”

  Shit, she knew him so well.

  “Chad?”

  He thought about Owen and their fuck in the park and wished he’d done some things different that day. Well, not the sex, but after the sex. Owen had made it clear with his silence that he had no interest in a repeat. His emails were so business-like that it stung. And it pissed Chad off that it stung. It didn’t help that he still hadn’t deleted the damn Dapper Dick. In fact, he’d changed the bow tie to green with white polka dots. Because he wanted to torture himself, apparently. He sighed. “I hooked up with a guy.”

  Marley didn’t move. “Oh?”

  “He’s hot. Great sex. But…” He turned around and leaned on the bar, biting his lip.

  “But you got bored,” Marley finished for him.

  He clenched his jaw. “No, I didn’t get bored of him. Not at all.” That was the fucking truth. “He’s just nothing like me. We’re not compatible in any way, really.”

  He glanced up at Marley, who was frowning. “What does that mean, not compatible? You’re compatible with everyone.”

  “No, I mean, he’s all serious and kind of uptight. He thinks I’m an idiot. In bed, he likes me; after that, he can barely tolerate me.” Even as he said the words, he wondered if they were true. He remembered the tender expression Owen had given him when Chad brushed his hair off his forehead, when Owen had given him his bow tie and asked if he wanted to get something to eat.

  Marley seemed to choose her words carefully. “I think your perception of how people view you is off. No one thinks you’re an idiot.”

  “You haven’t met this guy,” he muttered.

  “So maybe he’s a total asshole and does think you’re an idiot, but you need to stop thinking that’s everyone’s default and that you have to prove them wrong.”

  He hadn’t thought of it that way. He leaned on the bar across from her and picked at his nails.

  “Do you like him?”

  “It doesn’t really matter—”

  “Yes, it does.” She gripped his hand. “It matters how you feel.”

  “Sure, I like him.”

  “So what’s the hang-up? Call him.”

  Chad looked at her. “He’s this professional guy with a great job, and I’m a bartender. Not that there’s anything wrong with that, but we’re not on the same plane in life.” Marley opened her mouth, but he waved a hand. “Can we change the subject? This shit is depressing.”

  “Okay.”

  “Okay?” He smiled at her. “You’re going to let a subject drop?”

  “Oh, knock it off.” She shoved his shoulder playfully. “Maybe I’m just on a caffeine high.”

  “So is this a good mental health day, then?”

  She threw her hands in the air. “Yes! I’ve been working my ass off because Grant is crazy and Austin is…well, Austin. I love him, but he can be a little exhausting to deal with on a daily basis. Sitting here talking to you about your love life—”

  “Failed love life.”

  “—is actually much more entertaining.”

  He laughed. “I’m so glad my failures are your happiness.”

  “I didn’t mean it that way.”

  “I know. I love you, Mars.”

  “Love you, too.” She grinned at him, then sobered. “You know you can talk to me anytime, right?”

  He threw away her empty coffee cup and wiped the condensation ring on the bar. “Yeah, yeah, I know.”

  She left shortly after that, after making him promise to check in with her. He said he would. He hated being vulnerable, with all these emotions and feelings so damn close to the surface.

  Time would heal all, right? He just needed time.

  He pulled his phone out of his pocket and checked his email. Because even though Owen’s emails were a kick in the gut with no warmth, it was still something. He still felt like it forced Owen to acknowledge he existed.

  No new emails. He had gotten an email last week about a scholarship available to students like him—older and part-time. He hadn’t filled out the application yet because that felt like a big step.

  He wasn’t going to kid himself—the money aspect of going back to school freaked him out. But to get a better job, he needed the degree.

  He wanted to do this for himself. Not for Owen. Not to be good enough for Owen or to make Owen want him. He wanted to be the kind of guy Owen could want.

  And to do that, he had to be proud of himself. Going to school to learn more about doing what he loved? Yeah, that would make him damn proud.

  Maybe he could talk to his boss about more job opportunities. He knew he also owned some other businesses, so maybe he had other work for Chad. He wasn’t putting off school. No, he was being smart, right? Giving himself a bigger cushion?

  That’s what he was telling himself.

  Later that afternoon, before the bar opened, Chad spotted his boss, Braxton, chatting with Ace. “Hey, B,” Chad said as he removed his shirt and fixed his cuffs. “Can I talk to you about something?”

  Braxton turned from his conversation with Ace and leaned back against the bar, arms crossed. “Shoot.”

  Chad shifted his gaze to Ace, who stood within hearing distance, prepping the bar. “Uh, maybe in your office?”

  “What, you need privacy? Come to tell me you’re pregnant? Spit it out, Lake.”

  Chad growled under his breath. “So, I’m looking to make some extra money. Is there anything else you could give me?”

  Braxton stared at him, past the point of comfort, his eyes roaming Chad’s groin area and bare chest. Brax glanced at Ace, who nodded back at him. Chad had no idea what was going on. Braxton stepped forward and tugged a card out of his pocket. The card said The Peach Pit in pink. Chad frowned. “What’s this?”

  Braxton pointed at the card. “Talk to Ace. Think about it. If you’re interested, come on by next weekend.”

  With another glance at Ace then Chad, Braxton headed down the hallway to his office. Chad flicked the business card in his fingers and then shoved it into his pocket. “So what was this all about?” he asked Ace. “I’m not so hard up that I want to do anything illegal.”

  His coworker laughed. “It’s not illegal.”

  “Okay, so what is it?”

  “The Peach Pit is an exclusive, in
vite-only club.”

  An invite-only club in Willow Park and he’d never been there? That was a travesty. “And what do you do at this club?”

  “You dance.”

  Chad cocked his head. “I dance?”

  Ace grinned. “Yeah, in your underwear.”

  Chad held up his hands. “Wait, like a strip club?”

  Ace shrugged. “No nudity. It’s more like entertainment.”

  “Um…”

  “I’ve seen you dance. You can move. You’d make good money at the Pit.”

  “So you work there?”

  “Yeah. Normally it’s chicks dancing, but one weekend a month, it’s ladies’ night, and that’s when we shine. I’m saving up for a down payment on a house.” Ace glanced at the clock. “Doors are going to open here soon. Just think about it and let me know. No rush and no pressure.”

  He chewed on it all night. On the outside, he was the same jovial bartender the customers expected, but inside, his stomach was rolling and his head was spinning.

  The whole reason he wanted more money was so he could do something respectable with his life. Maybe a year ago, he would have jumped at the chance to dance on stage. But now he wasn’t so sure it was something he wanted to do at all. Once he danced on stage and stripped for an audience, he couldn’t undo it. It’d always be there, a part of his past. Not that he wanted to impress future partners, but he’d always know. He’d always know he’d done it.

  Was that something he wanted to live with?

  But Ace had said no nudity, so really, how different was this from that time he danced on the bar in Cancún in his briefs with Marley? He hadn’t even gotten paid for it then. Maybe he did if he counted the free drinks and the hand job in the cab with the bartender.

  Jesus, he was one step away from a stripper anyway.

  By the time his shift was over, he wasn’t any closer to figuring out if he could bring himself to work at the Pit. He did know, though, that he definitely wanted to go back to school.

  He just had to figure out a way to do that without losing himself along the way.