“So you bought bow tie mugs after you met me? Or have you always had these?”
“After.”
“Was that before or after you turned me into a superhero?”
“The Dapper Dick.”
“Yes, I’m aware of his name.”
Chad squinted, like he was remembering. “I made you into a superhero first. Right after we met. Then after the park incident, I bought the mugs to brighten my mornings.”
That shouldn’t have warmed Owen’s chest, but it did. “You’re a little ridiculous.”
Chad leaned in and pressed a kiss to Owen’s jaw. “Aw, but you like it, so what does that make you?”
Owen squeezed Chad’s hip. “I’m ridiculous, too.”
Turned out, Owen realized, other than the coffeemaker and video games, they didn’t have much in common at all.
Chad liked action movies, particularly ones with cars and explosions. Owen liked quiet indies. Chad listened to pounding club music while Owen had a fondness for Ed Sheeran and also admitted he liked Taylor Swift.
Every time they discovered new ways that they were completely incompatible, Chad would go on a laughing jag for several minutes. And then he would gleefully kiss Owen on the cheek and ask him to play another round of Aric’s Revenge.
They sat on the floor and played Uno, then they organized Chad’s bookshelves, resulting in Owen gagging when they found a leftover plate of something moldy on the top of the shelf. Chad had shoved it under his nose, and Owen shoved it back, so they were both dry heaving and laughing and leaking tears.
At one point, Chad dozed, his head on Owen’s lap while Owen read a dog-eared mystery paperback that he was sure Marley had left behind, because it looked out of place among the graphic novels and comic books.
When Chad squirmed awake, Owen put the book down—which surprised him, because he put books down for no one—and settled onto his side beside Chad. Chad’s hazel eyes were a little hazy from his nap. He yawned and scratched his head. “I fell asleep?”
“Not long.”
“What did you do?”
“Drew on your face with Sharpie.”
Chad bolted upright and ran to the bathroom then returned in a rage after finding his face devoid of doodles. He flung a pillow at Owen, whose gut was cramping with laughter. “You’re a dick.”
“Your face!” Owen laughed, wondering when he’d had this much fun, lounging around, joking with someone like he was a teenager again.
“I’m going to draw a damn bow tie around your neck next time you’re sleep. You just wait.” Chad sat down in a huff, elbowing Owen in the ribs. “I did it to my dad once, so don’t think I won’t.”
Owen settled his head on Chad’s shoulder and ran his hand over the letters on his sweatpants. “So, your parents—”
Chad’s entire body stiffened. Owen lifted his head and met Chad’s eye roll. “You gotta be kidding me.”
“I’m sorry for trying to get to know each other—”
“Look, I get what you’re trying to do, but talking about my parents will just annoy me. I had a good childhood, I love my sister, and I love my parents. But Mom and Dad think marriage should last as long as a roller coaster.”
Owen stared, unsure what to say next.
Chad held up a hand. “And please don’t psychoanalyze me, trying to find out if my parents made me like I am. I don’t know, and I don’t care. All I know is that if I do commit, I fucking commit, okay? I just haven’t had the urge to do it.”
It was on the tip of his tongue to ask if Chad could commit to him, if Owen was worth it. But then Chad shrugged off the topic. “So what about your parents?”
“What about them?”
Chad smiled. “Tell me how they raised little gay Owen.”
He chuckled. “It’s all rather boring. I grew up in Connecticut. I was an only child. My mom was a teacher, she’s retired now, and my dad is a family physician.”
Chad blinked. “That’s all rather Lifetime.”
“Yes, I suppose it is.”
“And the gay thing…”
“They figured it out very quickly. We lived in a liberal area, and one of my best friends had two moms. It wasn’t really an issue. You?”
Chad dug his toe into the carpet. “I thought I was straight until I kissed my high school best friend.”
“How very young-adult novel of you.”
Chad snorted. “And I freaked out and told Marley, and then it ended up being this whole family meeting thing where we discussed Chad’s sexuality over meatloaf and mashed potatoes.”
“That sounds painful.”
“It was, but my parents were supportive. Still are, obviously. And all my sister wants is for me to be happy.”
“And what do you want?”
Chad thought about that for a minute. “I want…to be wanted.”
The earnestness in Chad’s expression nearly broke Owen’s heart. “You don’t think you’re wanted?”
“I think I’m wanted a lot but not…wanted.” He drew out the word, eyes pleading for Owen to understand.
Owen gripped Chad’s face, looking directly into his eyes. “For fuck’s sake, Chad, you’re wanted. You’re wanted so badly I’m surprised you aren’t overflowing with it.”
Chad gripped Owen’s wrist. “Yeah? Who wants me, O?” His voice was a whisper.
Owen answered it with a whisper of his own, watching as Chad’s dark lashes blinked. “Me.”
And then, of course, a cell phone went off, loud and shrill in the quiet of the moment, jolting both of them where they sat on the couch, inches from each other, slicing like a knife through the conversation Owen didn’t think either of them was prepared for.
Chapter Eleven
Chad pulled out of Owen’s grip, cursing his phone for breaking up the moment and also thankful. Because that moment had been too much, too intense, and he needed to regain his bearings before he could continue it.
Which was why he didn’t ignore his phone and instead scrambled for it, knocking it to the floor before picking it up and answering it with a hasty, “Hello?”
“I need you here.”
Chad’s brain took a minute to catch up before he realized who was talking. “Brax?”
“Of course it’s fucking me.”
Chad blinked at the clock. “What do you mean you need me there? It’s noon.”
“You wanted extra hours, yes?”
“Yeah, but—”
“So I have extra work for you. Be here in ten and I’ll pay you time and a half.” And then he hung up.
Chad growled at his phone because while he liked the interruption, he didn’t feel like going in to work early. He dropped his cell onto the table with a clatter. “Uh, so that was my boss. I have to go into work.”
Owen didn’t answer, and Chad looked at him over his shoulder. Owen’s brows were furrowed. “You have to go in to work?”
“Yeah, you know, that thing I do? How I pay my bills?”
“I called out to spend the day with you, and you can’t tell your boss you can’t come in at a minute’s notice?”
True, but no, he couldn’t. Not now that he’d committed himself to a big fat tuition bill. “I’m not salaried. I get paid by the hour, and I need the damn money, okay?”
“But you’re a bartender, what do you have to do now?”
Chad shrugged. “Who knows, but he’s paying me time and a half.”
Owen didn’t look convinced. “Can’t you tell him—”
“I get that you think I just smile and make drinks, but it’s still a job, okay?”
Owen stared. “Why are you getting defensive?”
Why was his temper flaring? The fact he didn’t know only pissed him off more. “Just because I’m not some big, um, whatever you are at a magazine doesn’t mean my job doesn’t matter.”
Owen’s eyes narrowed as he stood up. “I never said that. You really have a habit of putting words in my mouth. Unless I tell you exactly what I think of you and
your job, don’t assume, okay?”
“Fine,” Chad spat back. He knew he was being an asshole, but everything about the last twelve hours had left him raw. He didn’t have his armor of leather and sarcasm. “Look, I gotta get ready, so…”
“So I’ll be leaving.” Owen walked down the hallway to the bedroom.
Chad followed, feeling like a puppy with his tail between his legs. He opened his mouth to say something at the same time Owen turned around, with an accusing finger pointed at Chad’s chest. “You know what? No. No, I’m not leaving like this. Not after the night we had and the morning we spent in this apartment. I’m done getting into arguments with you that are utterly ridiculous.”
He wasn’t the only one. “I’m sorry, all right?” Chad leaned against the wall and tugged on his hair. “This morning was nice. And now I got this phone call, and the real world is back in my face, and I’m pissed about it, okay? I’m pissed.” He crossed his arms over his chest and stared at his bare toes.
Another set of toes came into his sight line. Then a hand rested on the back of his neck. “Is that all?”
Chad shrugged, but it felt off. “And I guess I’m getting used to this. You. Us.” He gazed up at Owen from beneath his lashes. “Being wanted.”
Owen pressed forward and kissed him then. It wasn’t like any kiss they’d had before. Those kisses had been a little angry and a little prideful and a lot of lust.
This kiss was soft. And slow. And had no purpose, no goal, other than tasting each other, enjoying the feel of lips and skin and tongue and teeth.
By the time the kiss ended, Chad was breathless and Owen looked shocked, his glasses crooked on his nose.
“Wow,” Chad said.
“Yeah,” Owen murmured.
Chad reached out and linked his fingers with Owen’s. “Sorry for snapping. That was dumb. And immature.”
“It’s okay, it was a defense mechanism.”
Chad squinted at him. “Are you psychoanalyzing me again?”
Owen grinned. “Never.” He squeezed Chad’s hand. “Thanks for being honest.”
“You’re right, I’m tired of arguing with you over stupid words neither of us really mean.”
“And hey, I’m proud of you. You’re going back to school to do something you’re incredibly talented at. Don’t for one second think I’m looking down on you.”
Which made Chad even more determined to get his ass in school. “Yeah, okay.”
They parted ways ten minutes later, after a little groping session in the hallway. Owen kept Chad’s sweatpants because he was leaving hard and said he needed extra room in the crotch. And Chad had a good time watching Owen’s ass in those sweatpants as he made his way to his car in the parking lot.
Chad ran his hands through his hair and tugged. He’d loved that look in Owen’s eyes—the one where he seemed proud of Chad for going back to school. In fact, he’d loved it a little too much.
And he wondered how bad it would feel if he let Owen—or himself—down.
…
By five o’clock, Chad was exhausted and he still had to work the bar shift. At least he had a break, which he was using to drink his weight in water and house a meatball sub. Braxton stood behind the bar, eating his own sub.
They’d spent the entire afternoon cleaning out the basement. Braxton had a new shipment of tables coming in the next day, and he needed a place to store them until he had time to set them up. Cleaning out the basement at the last minute was a pain in the ass, but Braxton was paying him, so he shut up and he hauled crap until his muscles were liquid. Hell, he could barely lift the damn sub.
Braxton gestured to Chad’s chest with his chin. “You’re gonna look jacked behind the bar tonight after all that lifting you did today.”
Chad didn’t say anything, suddenly—and rarely—a little self-conscious about someone commenting on his body. Was this what happened when he was…with someone?
Was he with Owen?
“So…” Braxton leaned on the bar. “Ace said he talked to you about the Pit. Have you thought more about the job offer?”
Chad poked at a meatball that threatened to abandon ship. Yeah, he’d thought about the job offer. Other than Owen, that was all he’d thought about as he hauled dusty boxes in the basement of Blue Moon all afternoon.
The Peach Pit was this tempting fruit dangling in front of his face. If he reached for it, he might get what he wanted—more money to go to school. But at what price? Because no way could he tell Owen he’d danced for money.
Owen had been so encouraging and eager to hear about Chad going back to school. He had to make it a reality now, come hell or high water, and money was the way to do it. And part of him wanted to show Owen he could do it all on his own, without needing him to call his professor friends.
Chad prided himself on letting things roll off his back, but the idea of a guy he liked thinking he needed help had made his hackles go up. Big-time.
He swallowed. He could see how the job at the Peach Pit went. Just one time. Owen would never know. And if the money was really good and Chad decided to work more, then he’d find a way to come clean to Owen.
Somehow.
Because this was it, his future was there, right in front of his face. So he just had to put himself out on a ledge a little and reach for it, right?
So he nodded and looked Braxton in the eye. “Yeah, actually, I wanna do it.”
Braxton’s eyebrows lifted. “Yeah?”
“Yeah.”
His boss smacked his palm on top of the bar. “Excellent. Can you come Saturday? It’s ladies’ night.”
“I have a shift here—”
“Yeah, till eleven, then you’ll come to the Pit after. Can you handle all that?”
He’d take an afternoon nap. “Sure.”
Braxton nodded and went back to eating, but not without shooting Chad another look. “You’ll do well there, you’ll see. Clients will love you. Men and women.”
It was a pretty bad sign that those words made his skin crawl.
…
Grant leaned on Owen’s desk, his arms over his chest. “Do you have any questions about the meeting?”
Owen swallowed. Grant was taking the time to go over the game plan for that Saturday while Owen was making what he considered a pretty valiant effort at not appearing freaked out. “Are there any materials I need to bring?”
Grant shook his head. “Just that brain of yours. Look, I want a more technical guy with me who knows the ins and outs of production of Gamers. The stats. Who’s been in the trenches of the magazine and cares about its success. That’s you, buddy.”
Owen made a note to go over the subscription numbers. Maybe he’d make a couple of graphs on his phone. Damn, he was a nerd. “I can handle that.”
Grant clapped him on the shoulder. “I made reservations for you, me, and three employees of Esher at Catalina’s Saturday night. We’ll have dinner, drinks, and keep them entertained. Okay?”
Owen tugged at the edges of his bow tie and blew out a breath. Was it getting hot in the office? “That sounds great.”
Grant smiled at him. “Hey, I talked to Marley about you, and I realize this isn’t really your thing. But I think it could be your thing. Do you understand what I’m saying? You have it in you, Owen. I wouldn’t ask you if I didn’t think so.”
Were his nerves showing that badly that everyone around him thought he needed a pep talk? Regardless, he appreciated it. Gamers was his dream job not only because of the work, but because the people around him were amazing people. He looked Grant in the eye and straightened his spine. “I appreciate you saying that, and for giving me this chance to step up. It makes me feel like an important part of the company.”
Grant straightened from the desk and knocked on it with two knuckles. “You are, Owen. You are.”
As Grant walked away, Owen worked on his breathing so he didn’t pass out, then turned back to his computer. He was thinking of sticking his head in the break room
freezer when his phone rang. It was probably Marley calling from out of town to give him a hard time. He picked up the phone. “Copy desk, this is Owen.”
There was a pause. “Chad’s couch, this is Chad.”
Owen’s gaze immediately dropped to his desk so he could hide his smile from his coworkers. “Hey, you.”
“Whatcha doin’?”
“Working.”
Chad made a sound, like he was stretching. “So boring.”
“And you’re calling because…”
“I can’t call to say hi?”
“Chad, I’m working. I can’t really just chitchat.”
“Aw, bummer.”
Owen wished he was there with Chad. He hadn’t seen him since the afternoon Chad was called into work. It was now Friday, and he wondered when the hell he’d get to see him again. “What’s your work schedule like this weekend?”
“I work tonight and tomorrow night.”
Owen chewed his lip. “I have a work dinner tomorrow night, but maybe we can hang out after your shift?”
A long pause. “Uh, I’m sorry, I work really late that night. I have to help close. What about Sunday?”
“If you work late, are you sure you’re going to want to hang out Sunday?”
“You’re killing me, O. I wanna see you.”
Owen closed his eyes and swallowed, the bow tie around his throat a welcome pressure. “Okay, Sunday then. Want to call me when you wake up?”
“Sure.”
“Okay, and, uh, don’t get weird, but I was looking around and printed out some scholarship applications for you. And other information about William Penn and programs they offer for second-time students.”
Chad didn’t say anything for some time, and Owen worried he’d overstepped the boundary. But what even was the boundary between them? Owen wasn’t sure there’d ever been anything defined, and by now, what line had been there was washed away.
When Chad spoke again, his voice was soft. “Okay, thanks.”
“I’m assuming you have to fund this. I did speak to my friend who is a professor there—”
Tied to Trouble (Gamers) Page 11
