by Jen Davis
Eh.
He paused outside of the door and almost hightailed it back to the car. But Kane’s voice echoed in his head, telling him to nut up or shut up, and it gave him the push he needed to grab the handle and venture inside.
Only to stop in his tracks at the scene in front of him. Matt—on a barstool with his eyes closed—with a woman sitting beside him. She was black, her skin just a shade lighter than Matt’s. Her hair was natural: with little twists pulled away from her face with a cloth headband.
Not beautiful but striking. Her eyebrows were lined and perfectly arched. And the way she stared at Matt—her brown eyes were liquid and reflected a longing so deep, it made Robby’s stomach clench.
Slowly, she leaned forward, and a smile blossomed on Matt’s face.
Robby turned on his heel before he had to see their lips meet. His mouth dried up like a desert, and his heart dropped to his stomach.
It didn’t matter how many times he’d reminded himself Matt was unattainable. That he was grateful to have just their friendship. He’d only lied to himself. Well-intended lies, perhaps, but still patently untrue.
If anything, the time he’d spent with Matt only added fuel to the fire, and their kiss leveled it up to an inferno. Now reality smacked him square in the face.
His body went on auto-pilot, his mind checking out while his heart screamed for comfort. He blinked as he found himself standing in front of Nitro. Somehow, he’d missed how close Matt’s bar was to his old haunt. Just a half a block away and across the street. Obviously, some part of him had taken note, because here he was.
It wasn’t hard at all to walk in—mostly because he’d broken the ice with his recent return and, even more importantly, because John never hit the bar scene this early in the day.
The music thumped across the walls and from the floor up through the soles of his feet, pushing a constant, reverberating tingle into his legs. The familiar sensation comforted him, born of a hundred nights experiencing the same thing.
He settled at the bar and lifted a finger at the bearded bartender serving a couple a few feet away. Even in the early afternoon, most of the bar seats were filled and more than a dozen men were grinding against each other on the dance floor.
“What can I get you, sugar?” The bartender hooked a thumb in the suspenders he wore over his bare chest, drawing Robby’s eyes to his smooth pecs and pierced nipple.
“Hook us up with some lemon drops, Lucas.” Parker put a hand on his shoulder before perching on the stool beside him. “Leave the bottle and just put it on my tab.”
The bartender winked, then turned to the wall of liquor bottles displayed behind him. He pulled down a bottle of Absolute Citron and set it on the bar before pushing forward a box of lemon wedges and a shaker, presumably filled with sugar. “Can I get you anything else?” Lucas leaned toward Parker, covering the man’s hand with his own.
Parker smiled, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “Just some shot glasses. We’ll call you if we need you.”
Nodding, Lucas pulled the glasses from under the bar. His eyes moved from Parker to Robby, then back again. He blew Parker a kiss as he backed away toward the men gathered a few feet down.
Robby tugged the glasses toward himself. He could have a drink, dammit. It wasn’t the same as using. “I always associate these with you, you know.” The vodka made a satisfying splash as he poured it.
Parker licked the top of his hand and sprinkled the sugar on his damp skin. “Remember when we killed the whole bottle? The last time the gang was all here.” He reached into the box for a lemon wedge. “Five years ago, maybe? I think it was my birthday.”
As he’d done so many times in the past, he mirrored Parker’s actions, smattering his hand with sugar and grabbing a lemon. He didn’t wait to play out the ritual, licking the sweetness before tipping back his shot. The citrus flavor played across his tongue for a moment before he followed it up with the tart lemon.
A shiver rolled down his spine, but he shook it off impatiently and poured another shot. “I can’t believe you still come here.”
Parker lifted his brows, his eyes mocking. “I saw you here not so long ago. It’s not like I’m drinking by myself today, Lambchop.”
Jerk. He hated the nickname, and Parker knew it.
As the second shot warmed his chest, he shook off the irritation. He’d come here to feel better, and dammit, he would.
Parker put a hand on his arm. “Grab the bottle. Come with me. There’s a private room in the back.”
Why the hell not? He clutched the bottle to his chest while Parker grabbed the shot glasses and lemon wedges, then led him to a roped-off back door. The security guy standing there didn’t so much as blink as they passed.
His thoughts drifted back to Matt and the woman at Closing Time. What were they doing now? Did Matt leave with her? Did he take her home?
Parker snapped his fingers three times. “Are you high right now, dude?”
Robby swatted the guy’s hand out of his face and joined him in a shiny leather booth. “Cut it out. I don’t do drugs anymore. Just give me my shot glass.”
Parker slid it across the table, then reached out and rested a hand on his arm. “It’s still kind of unreal seeing you again. When you stopped coming around, I thought maybe you’d found a new Daddy or you moved back to where you came from.”
His skin itched beneath Parker’s touch. He pulled his arm away. “I don’t need a Daddy. And I’m never going back to where I came from. You know better.”
Not many people knew the whole of his story, but Parker had been one of the only friends he’d been able to talk to during his early years in Atlanta. When Robby had been with John, Parker’s boyfriend had been older as well, though markedly different from John in other ways. They’d gone to all the same parties, the same clubs. They had the same hardships, the same…restraints, though in many ways, Parker’d had it worse. At times, it seemed like no one could understand what his life had become more than the man sitting with him now.
It had felt natural to share secrets back then. Dreams. Hurts, both past and present, of the body and the heart.
Parker knocked back a shot, not bothering with the sugar. They’d left it in the main part of the bar anyway. He stared at the glass as he set it back on the table. “Never say never, my friend. Sometimes, new problems can make the old ones seem a lot simpler by comparison. Your old man might’ve thought you were property, but he never tied you to the—”
“Don’t.” He barely recognized the low timbre of his own voice. It brooked no room for argument. He ground his teeth against the vicious words rising in his throat.
His old friend held up his hands in surrender. “Okay,” he agreed as he poured them both another shot. “You didn’t stick around here. You didn’t go home. Where did you go?”
Robby downed his drink, then sucked a lemon wedge. Going through the motions gave him the chance to calm his pounding pulse. He dropped the rind on top of the small pile growing in front of him. “I didn’t go anywhere.”
Parker raised a skeptical eyebrow.
“I didn’t,” he repeated. “When I left John, I didn’t have any money. I didn’t have much more than when I left my parents’ house.” But there was one major difference.
He turned to face Parker fully. “Only it was my choice to leave John. I didn’t even recognize myself anymore. I couldn’t live that way for another second.”
“I get it. You weren’t happy, but when you left, John was really hurt.”
Robby laughed darkly. “John was hurt.” He shook his head. “Do you have amnesia or something? They treated us like toys. To be played with and traded off.”
Parker rolled his eyes. “Maybe it got worse in the end, but you’ve got to admit, it was a sweet ride in the beginning.”
Heh. Not sweet. Livable, but not sweet. “The first time I walked into his apartment, I thought I had it made. It was the nicest place I’d ever been in. Big TV mounted on the wall and everything c
ream colored and perfect. But he let me know from the very beginning, I was there to cater to him. His hands were gentle, but don’t fool yourself. The first night, he had me naked and crawling just for the honor to suck him off. And the worst part—I was so grateful, I thought it was a gift. Because I could have a hot shower and a soft bed. I didn’t think I deserved anything better.”
A shudder went down his spine. “John cared more about his knock-off Rolex than he did about me. God knows, he took better care of it.”
Another shot slid down his throat before Parker clutched his fingers around the bottle.
“Please.” Parker sneered. “You don’t even know how good you had it.” His hand shook as he tipped more vodka into his glass, and a few drops spilled. “John has a reputation for taking care of his own. You always had food to eat, new clothes to wear.”
Heat climbed the back of Robby’s neck. “But at what cost?”
Parker slammed a fist against the table. “Not the kind of cost I had to pay with Harry, that’s for damn sure!”
“Then, it’s a good thing Harry’s dead.” His own time with Parker’s ex had changed him in ways no one knew about to this day. They never would.
Parker sighed in agreement. “Yeah. Best thing that ever happened to me. But John never got off on hurting you. Even when you started acting out. He loved you.”
“He owned me!” Robby roared, jumping to his feet. The abrupt motion paired with the lemon drops made his head spin, but he forced himself to stay upright. “Maybe nobody has ever loved me. Maybe nobody ever will. But I will not be desperate enough again to accept some sick, selfish imitation. Not again.”
Pulling the vodka bottle from Parker’s hand, Robby gulped back the booze. The bottle thunked against the wood when he released it on the table. “Stop selling yourself short. You deserve better too. Why are you defending him anyway?”
“Maybe I wanted him for myself. After you left, he wouldn’t even look at me, said I reminded him too much of you. Do you know how much better my life could’ve been with him?”
Disgusted, Robby stumbled away from his old comrade, intent on escaping the demons of his past. He made it two steps before he realized just how deep he’d fallen down the rabbit hole. This back room hadn’t existed five years ago, but he’d been in plenty of places just like it.
Older men on leather chairs or sofas, their pretty young pets at their feet. Teenagers, he’d bet, in barely there briefs or tiny shorts and nothing else. Nothing but the occasional collar and leash.
He spied at least one guy crouched beneath a table, his head buried in some other man’s crotch. Another sat on his partner’s lap, their table doing nothing to hide the swivel in his hips or the glazed look in his eyes.
The boy could’ve been him—was him at his lowest point—same curly brown longish hair. Same pale skin and long lashes.
He froze as the dead-eyed boy’s gaze trained on his face. They locked stares for a minute before the teenager looked submissively to the floor. How many times had submission saved him? Saved any of them? Hell, he still defaulted to the compliant, wide-eyed innocence most men had left long behind by his age. Because the strong protected the weak.
Unless they preyed on them. A lesson from a stranger in the shelter he never forgot.
If he asked any one of these young guys if they wanted to be here, he doubted he’d find a single one who said no. After all, they’d all have a place to sleep tonight. And even without seeing them, he knew the drugs would be plentiful.
Hell, some actually did like it. Or let themselves believe they did.
John had loved to show him off at parties like this. Made him—
Covering his mouth with his hand, he stumbled toward the door. He’d almost reached it when he heard Parker call out.
“You think you’re out, Lamp Chop. But you just don’t get it. You might leave this place…but it never leaves you.”
Chapter ELEVEN
Matt
Matt rolled his head from side to side, stretching the tight muscles in his neck. The clock ticked at a maddeningly slow pace as the end of his shift drew closer. The nightshift guys were due to relieve him any minute, which would be a blessing because he could barely think straight after his encounter with Patty.
The way they’d hung out and just talked reminded him of the years they’d spent as best friends. They could tell each other anything. With her, he could just be himself.
If only he understood who the hell he was.
Patty acted like she found the answer obvious. Like he could just rip off some cosmic Band-Aid and proclaim himself gay once and for all. It wasn’t as simple as speaking it into reality, though.
True, he didn’t sit around at night fantasizing about women, but he didn’t sit around fantasizing about guys either. One particular guy, maybe, but it was more about the man himself than whatever hung between his legs.
His breath caught at the direction of his thoughts, and an unfamiliar stirring forced him to subtly adjust himself in his khakis.
Wouldn’t Patty just love that?
He’d been downright positive she was going to kiss him earlier, and the relief he’d felt when she winked and pulled away damn near overwhelmed him. He could still hear the low chuckle she made as she sauntered out the door.
Nothing like he’d felt with the anticipation of Robby’s kiss. With her, he’d wanted the world to swallow him whole. With Robby, his body sang with the rightness of it all. Remembering it now, he practically vibrated with pleasure.
And confusion.
Why Robby? Why now?
And, most importantly, would it last?
So far, the attraction seemed to grow stronger the closer they became.
He almost jumped out of his skin when a finger tapped him on the shoulder. His tight muscles relaxed as Jessica’s tinkling laughter sounded behind him.
“Sorry I startled you.”
When he glanced over, she’d tied a short, white apron around her waist.
“Why don’t you hit the road? Tom’s a good guy, but he won’t pay for extra time on the clock unless he approves it first.” She flashed him a grin and pulled her straight brown hair into a ponytail.
Thank goodness.
Matt returned her smile and gave her a small salute before he stepped out from behind the bar.
Maybe he could swing by Robby’s place before he picked up Jimmy. No doubt, his mom would love the extra time with her grandson.
Just an hour or so. It didn’t have to mean anything. After all, he’d promised to introduce Robby to The Expanse before the whole kissing thing went down. What better way to convince them both things were totally normal between them?
Satisfied with his justifications, he walked out the front door and nearly tripped over the man sitting in front of him on the sidewalk.
He recognized the unruly brown hair and Oxford shirt instantly. “Robby?”
He looked up at his name and gave a wavering smile when he recognized Matt. “Fancy meeting you here.” Robby blinked twice before accepting the hand Matt offered to pull him up.
Instantly, he knew Robby was wasted. Even without the telltale smell of alcohol, the soft focus of his eyes and his unsure footing gave him away.
Matt felt a pang of worry. Had he pushed Robby into this drunken state? Was it their kiss? Their decision to stay friends? The questions barely had time to register before his awareness focused on something earthier and more consuming.
Robby slung an arm around his neck and leaned against him, his body languid and loose. “I’m sorry to crash your party, but I’m in no shape to drive.”
The man’s body clung so close, he could smell a hint of the CK cologne on his skin. The urge to bury his face into the crook of Robby’s neck nearly overwhelmed him.
He locked his body into a rigid line to resist the compulsion, but Robby seemed oblivious, boneless against him.
“Can you give me a ride?” Robby murmured.
No way he meant the words
as dirty as they sounded. He swallowed. “Sure,” he croaked. “Let’s get you home.”
The drive back to the apartment seemed to last forever. Robby’s head lolled against the passenger seat and stared at him with slow-blinking eyes and an unreadable expression. The air weighed heavy in the confined space, prompting him to crack open a window to breathe.
Something had changed, whether they would acknowledge it or not. He hadn’t felt this awareness last night before their kiss. Maybe not ever.
He stuffed it down as he helped Robby to his front door and eased him down to the sofa where he’d slept the night before. “What’s going on, Rob? I thought you didn’t drink.”
Robby didn’t look at him. “I didn’t plan on it. Just sort of happened. ‘Course, that wouldn’t fly with Thomas.”
“Thomas?” Jealousy might be unfamiliar, but Matt recognized it right away.
“The guy who leads my N.A. group. Apparently, booze is a gateway or whatever.” Robby shrugged. “I wasn’t looking to use, though. Just…to take my mind off things.”
He bit the tip of his thumb gently and glanced at Matt from the corner of his eye. “I came to see you first.”
Matt shook his head, trying to dislodge his immediate thoughts of Shawn. His addiction. His death. Robby had given him too much information—and not enough. He took the easiest route. “You came to my bar? I never saw you.” Closing Time had a steady stream of people all day, but it never got so crowded he could’ve missed his friend.
Robby dropped his hands to his lap, lacing his fingers together. He scowled as he spoke. “You were probably too busy with your lady friend.” Blinking, he relaxed his features and smiled, but it didn’t look like it happened naturally. “But, hey, it’s cool. It’s not like you knew I was coming, and, uh, you’re trying to figure things out, right?” Even with the corners of his mouth turned up, his eyes were hard. It was very un-Robby-like.
Obviously, his friend had caught part of his heart-to-heart with Patty. “I guess we must have looked pretty intense. I was talking with Jimmy’s mom. We have a…complicated relationship. I think I mentioned it last night.”
