Burning the Midnight Oil: A Single Dad Small Town Romance

Chapter 19

The bar is crowded for a Thursday night, nearly wall to wall with patrons. As the guys and I all shoulder through the crowd, we make our way toward the bar so we can order some drinks. I can’t speak for everybody, but I’m already walking the line to tipsy after our little pre-game at my place. A handful of the guys came over this afternoon to help me put together the new bedroom set Jade and I got for Suzy. They’re both out of town with Jade’s sister, so it was the only time I could get it done.

Reaching the bar, Colt turns to face all of us. “What are we getting?” he asks. “Shots?”

A general grunt of acknowledgement rolls through all of us, and he turns toward the bartender and orders a round of Jameson. The whole gang is here tonight, and it’s nice that we’re all able to spend time together before we get busy with preparing for the circuit in a few weeks. Even Percy, our new steer roper, was able to make it out. He got into town a few weeks ago, and he’ll be hitting the road with us come May. It’s his second professional year, but he moved here from Montana. We haven’t had any newbies since Sterling moved here a couple of years ago.

Colt passes out the shots, and with a quick toast, we throw ’em back, then order another round.

“Where’s Grady?” Xander asks in my ear, barely heard over the chatter in here.

“He’ll be here soon, I think,” I respond, as I actively try to calm the nerves that have been going haywire since I found out Grady was coming tonight. “He’s getting dropped off by his buddy he was hanging out with.”

Xander nods before leaning into something Cope is saying to him. Grady and Xander have been getting closer lately, hanging out more often, and I love that for both of them. Xander recently moved to Copper Lake last year, so he doesn’t really know many people outside of our group of friends, and Grady has his friend, Benji, who he’s with right now, but other than that, I don’t see him with many other friends.

Throwing back another couple shots, we migrate toward the pool tables, setting up a couple of games. Checking my watch, it’s a quarter past eight. I wonder when Grady is going to get here. He’s been out of the house all day. Me and Sterling play against Cope and Shooter on one table, while the other guys play on the one beside us. The music is loud, and we keep the drinks flowing. I drove myself here, but if this keeps up, I’ll have to order an Uber home. It just feels like a good night to let loose.

About midway through Sterling and I kicking Shooter’s and Cope’s asses, movement catches toward the front of the bar, and when I turn my head, I notice Grady walking in. He gives us all a quick wave of acknowledgement before he heads to the bar to get himself something to drink. I can’t help but watch him for a moment, and I hate myself for it.

“Ope, your boy toy’s arrived,” Shooter taunts in my ear. He moves out of the way quick enough that I can’t elbow him, but when I turn my gaze toward him, he’s sniggering as he chalks the tip of his pool stick. “You’re up, lover boy.”

“You’re a prick,” I growl, getting myself ready to take a shot. The ball makes it in, and the scowl on Shooter’s face makes it worth it. I love Shooter, but he’s one of the worst losers I’ve ever met. He’s so competitive, and he can’t stand to not be the best.

“Hey, guys,” Grady says as he comes to a stop at our table.

“Hey, you made it,” Xander replies with a grin as he comes over from the table beside us. “Wanna play a round with me, Cope, and Colt?”

Grady takes a sip of his beer. “Sure, let’s do it.

Apparently,the entire town of Copper Lake is at the bar tonight. I wasn’t aware that Thursday nights are karaoke nights here, which is very clearly a big deal. It’s nearly ten o’clock at this point, and we’ve been watching people step on the stage and give their best shots at their favorite songs for the last hour. I’ll admit, it’s entertaining to say the least.

I’ve had a couple more shots and a few beers, and I’m feeling pretty good. The person currently on stage is finishing up their horrible rendition of Picture by Kid Rock and Sheryl Crow when Xander, Grady, and Colt push their way through our group toward the walkway.

“We’ll be right back,” Xander announces, mostly to Cope.

“Where are you guys going?” he asks, confusion furrowing his brows.

Xander gives Cope a sly little grin. “To do karaoke.”

“All three of you?” Shooter asks.

“Yup!” The response comes from Colt, and he looks quite pleased with himself. This should be good.

My eyes meet Grady’s for a moment, and he gives me a small smile before they head toward the front. We’ve been here a few hours now, and Grady and I have barely talked. A fact that’s annoying me more than I thought it would. After we all played a few rounds of pool, we put together a couple of tables, ordered some more shots, a couple of pitchers of beer, and sat around bullshitting until karaoke started. If I didn’t know any better, I’d say Grady was purposely avoiding me, because the whole night, he’s been the opposite of where I’m at.

I don’t know why I care.

Watching as the three of them take the stage, it’s abundantly clear that they’re all tipsy, at the very least. Their cheeks are flushed, eyes bloodshot, and they’re giggling like a bunch of schoolgirls.

“This ought to be good,” Cope says, humor lacing his words.

The loud pop beat to Wannabe by the Spice Girls starts playing and, as if on cue, our entire table catcalls and whistles, clapping our hands as the three of them on the stage bust out laughing before trying to contain themselves. It’s comical watching three grown ass men up there singing along to the Spice Girls. Especially someone like Colt, who, to the world, is this big, strong, badass bull rider.

As much as I fight it, my gaze finds Grady, and it stays on him. I can’t help but watch him. He’s since shrugged off the big, black jacket he was wearing when he got here. Now, he’s in a pair of straight leg jeans, a dark green hoodie, and a stone-gray beanie. He’s wearing high-top Converse to top off the whole look. His eyes are squinting from smiling so hard, and every so often, he’ll laugh, and you can hear it in the words he sings. Honestly, he doesn’t sound half bad.

My chest tightens as his hand grips the microphone, gaze zeroing in on the way his fingers flex against it. My pulse kicks up, heart racing. I don’t get it. I don’t understand this weird feeling I get when I look at him anymore.

Grady’s tongue pokes out of his mouth, wetting his lips as he watches Colt belt out the next part. For the three minutes the song plays, I’m hypnotized. The chatter all around me, the sound of the song, my friends seated next to me…I don’t register any of it. All I can pay attention to is the beating of my heart and the man on stage. The one I have no business looking at like this. The one I have no business thinking about as much as I do.

No matter how hard I try, he’s always there. Always front and center in my mind. When I wake up in the morning, one of my first thoughts after wanting to get up and check on Suzy is wondering if Grady will be downstairs, barefoot and in a pair of pajama pants. Wondering if his hair will be tousled like he rolled around in bed all night. Then that leads to thoughts about Grady in bed doing things other than sleeping. When I head to the arena for training, I’m constantly wondering if I’m going to run into him there. I lie to myself and say it’s because I’m trying to avoid him because things with us haven’t been the same since that night he stood in my doorway, nothing but a shadow in the night as he watched me give into desire.

Grady piques my interest in a way I’m unfamiliar with. In a way no guy ever has. I feel like it’s been so long since I’ve been truly intimate with somebody. Jade and I were separated for a while before we officially decided to get a divorce, and during that time—and even sometime before—we didn’t have sex, and when we did, it was more about scratching an itch. It wasn’t about the connection. Maybe I’m so hungry for intimacy that when I caught him watching me, it fucked me up, and now I’m looking at him in a way I normally wouldn’t.

I’m not gay.

I’m not even bisexual. I’ve never in my entire life found myself attracted to men. And surely, at my age, that would’ve happened by now if that were the case. I don’t even know if that’s what this is, though. Am I attracted to Grady? I mean, sure, I can acknowledge he’s an attractive person. I’m not blind. And sure, I find myself watching him a lot more intently than I would anybody else. I find the way his lashes are so dark, and long, and curly fascinating. They blanket his golden-brown eyes in a way that’s hard to miss. And yeah, I’ve noticed how full and plump his lips are. How soft they look.

And as he stands up there on stage, I can’t help but observe how carefree he seems. How the smile on his face is bright, and how it makes the wrinkles around his eyes crease. His Adam’s apple rolls with every laugh. His body is relaxed as he sways to the beat. He throws an arm around Xander’s shoulder, and Xander does the same thing to him and Colt. Their bodies rock side to side as they finish out the song, and my eyes flick to Grady’s hoodie riding up on his right side. How a sliver of skin is showing. How it’s making my mouth dry and my heart gallop.

What is happening to me? Why am I feeling like this? Is it the alcohol in my system? I want to say yes, but that wouldn’t explain all the other instances where I was stone-cold sober.

The three of them leave the stage, and I know I need to take a moment to calm my frayed fucking nerves before I come face to face with him. Everything I’m feeling is written all over me for everyone to see, and I can’t have that.

Leaning over, I tell the guys at the table, “I’ll be right back,” before standing up and walking out the back door to the bar. The air is chilly tonight, and it bites my cheeks as I round the corner into the alleyway that connects to the establishment. Maybe the frigid temperature will help knock some sense into me. I lean against the brick wall, letting my head fall back as I gaze up at the night sky like it might hold all the answers.

I’m losing it.

That’s what this is.

My life has been turned upside down, no matter how amicable this divorce was, and now my mind is acting out. It’s latching onto any and everything.

Or maybe it’s a mid-life crisis. Although, I’m only twenty-eight… So, a late quarter-life crisis, maybe?

That has to be it, because there’s no way I’m just now discovering an attraction to men after being married to a woman, and only being attracted to women thus far. And there’s no fucking way that discovery is coming by way of an attraction to my brother-in-law.

Well, ex-brother-in-law now, I guess.

“Hey, you okay?”

My head snaps to the side, gaze finding the last person who should be out here right now. I swallow thickly as he approaches, my throat feeling like it’s moving around sandpaper and glass.

“I’m fine,” I lie through gritted teeth.

Grady’s scent surrounds me as he comes to a stop directly in front of me. His cheeks are flushed, probably from being on stage under the neon lights, and he’s removed his hoodie, revealing a black band tee that’s tight around his arms and chest but loose around his waist.

“You sure?” he asks, softer this time. “You kind of high-tailed out of the bar.”

I force myself to drag in a deep breath through my nose. Holding it in my lungs for several long moments, I blow it out through my mouth. Repeating the process a few times, I’m disappointed, but not surprised, to realize it’s not helping. Especially when all I can smell is Grady.

“I’m fine,” I repeat, this time turning my head to meet his gaze. “I’m just…off.”

He cocks his head to the side, thick brows knitting together as his mouth is downturned into a frown. I fucking hate how adorable I find it.

Adorable? Jesus Christ, Boone.

“Off how?”

Biting the inside of my cheek, I use the pain from that to ground me—or at least, attempt to—while I think of the best way to answer this question—or avoid it. Grady’s watching me so intently. It’s enough to make me want to squirm, and I’m not someone who gets uncomfortable easily.

“Have you ever…” I huff out a frustrated sigh. “Have you ever felt something you shouldn’t feel? Something that confuses you?”

He swallows. My eyes dip, tracking the roll in his throat. Again. Goddamnit. “Sure, I have.”

It feels like he’s somehow closer to me now. Like the space between us is vanishing before my eyes, except I don’t recall him ever actually taking a single step my way.

“How’d you handle that?”

Grady’s gaze bounces between my eyes before they drop to my mouth. His tongue pokes out as he wets his lips, his gaze raising to meet mine again. The movement was so quick, if I hadn’t been paying such close attention, I would’ve missed it.

Clearing his throat, he murmurs, “I tend to lean into things I want, even if they make me uncomfortable.”

“Who said anything about me wanting it?” I ask, my voice suddenly coming out raspy.

His lip tips up on one side. “Do you?” he counters. “Want it, that is?”

Fuck, it’s now fifty degrees hotter out here than it was a moment ago. Sweat lines the back of my neck, and it feels like I can’t breathe. Grady is definitely closer, I can practically count his eyelashes if I tried. Count the freckles on his face. I can see the way his jaw flexes as he waits for my answer. Feel his breath brush against my lips.

Lips that suddenly tingle.

That ache to know how his would feel covering mine.

My mind is hazy. It’s filled with fog that I’m beginning to think has nothing to do with the Jameson.

Remembering he asked me a question, I swallow and nod. “Maybe I do.”

The vein in Grady’s neck pulses, and there’s an electric current seeming to flow from me to him. It’s charging the air around us, making it feel different… Suffocating.

“I dare you to do it,” he husks, and the air is sucked from my lungs.

All my rational thinking leaves my mind like smoke clearing, and my body moves of its own volition. First my hand, coming up to grip the back of Grady’s neck. His breath hitches as his eyes drop to my lips again. Then my body, as I push off the brick wall, bringing me flush with his. And finally, my head as it leans in until my lips fuse with Grady’s.

This feels like an out-of-body experience. Like I’m watching myself do it from above. From the way my nails bite into the flesh of his neck, to the way I part our lips and thrust my tongue into his hot, wet mouth. The way Grady brings both of his hands to my hips. The way he’s so responsive. It’s like he doesn’t need a single moment to catch up, his brain and his mouth and his body knowing exactly what to do. Like they were made for this moment. His tongue rolls against mine, and he groans into my mouth. I swallow it down, relishing the taste of him.

The sweet taste of temptation and bad decisions.

Our movements quickly grow fevered, and before I know it, his body is pushing mine back into the wall. Crowding me. Pressing up against me. I can feel him. Feel the way this kiss—the way I’m—making him feel. And I know he can feel me too. Teeth clank together, they nip, our tongues devour. Every single breath is stolen by Grady. Except the longer this goes on, the more I think it’s not stolen…but given. I didn’t realize how truly I needed this—how deeply and viscerally I wanted this—until I felt his mouth move in synchrony with mine. How goddamn right his lips feel brushing against mine.

But then… Well, then my fucked-up mind gets in the way, and the reality of what’s happening hits me like a Mack truck. Shoving him away, my fingers find my spit-slick lips, brushing them as if that could replace the ecstasy I just felt having his mouth on me. My chest heaves as I look at him, his eyes dark and wild.

“Fuck,” I breathe. “Fuck, fuck, fuck!”

Grady takes a step back, his hands going to his head, and he looks about as freaked out as I feel. “Shit.”

“I…” Fuck. What the hell was that? “I’m so sorry.” The words tumble out of my mouth. “That shouldn’t have happened.”

“It’s okay,” he whispers.

“It’s not okay, Grady,” I growl. “It’s not okay at all. I gotta go.”

I’m surprised my feet don’t break out into a sprint as I leave the alley, not bothering going back in the bar. In a fog, I walk down a few blocks before I come to my senses and pull out my phone to order an Uber.

I can’t believe I fucking did that.