Chapter 6
CHAPTER
SIX
Sitting through the fundraiser was harder than doing two-a-days in college. Garrett needed another spray of antiperspirant and an ice pack for his cheeks. His face hurt from all the smiling.
Most of them were for show. He nodded and said the right thing, the way he always did at family dinners. He’d never expected those skills to come in handy after he’d left home.
There was another round of handshakes filled with ‘good to meet you’s and ‘thank you for your donation’s, and then they were gone, leaving only him and Chester and the waitstaff who were cleaning up.
Garrett ran his fingers through his hair, blew out a breath, and let the tension go. Chester walked over with a glass and a smile.
He wasn’t an expert, but he was pretty damn sure Chester had been flirting. Not obviously… or had Garrett only hoped he’d been because he had a bad case of the hots. He wanted to lick the barbell piercing through Chester’s lower lip and find out what other ones hid beneath his clothes.
Chester surprised him. He wasn’t what a successful businessman should be like. He didn’t behave the right way. But he said all the right things, and he seemed to know all the right people.
“Here, you deserve this after that performance.” Chester held out the glass.
It was not soda and lime based on the orange color. “What is it?” Nothing good happened when he drank. Nothing good happened around alcohol period, yet it was easy to think it might be different this time.
“Non-alcoholic gin, house-made.” Chester held his gaze. He could be lying, but he had no reason to.
Garrett accepted the glass and took a sip. He didn’t know much about gin, and when he had drank, he avoided non-alcoholic stuff, because what was the point of drinking without the buzz? But this was very drinkable.
“It’s not a training thing, is it?” Chester asked.
Maybe if Garrett hadn’t gone out for a few drinks with some of the other guys, he wouldn’t have been tempted to continue the celebration a little more privately. But it had been a while, and he needed a release, and to be with someone, even if it was only for long enough for them to get what they wanted.
How much did he say to a man who seemed to see right through him?
“Alcohol was involved. I’m sure you’ve read the official statement.” He was sick of repeating himself. Fortunately, no one at the dinner had tried to dig out the truth.
“I did. Would you like to see the distillery?” It sounded like an innocent offer, but Chester’s voice made it sound closer to “Do you want to see my bed?”
He could plead that it was late, and he should go because he had to be at the training facility by eight. He had extra work to do, even though Tuesday was usually a day off. If he asked for a raincheck, would Chester make the offer again? And while he didn’t give a rat’s ass about the distillery, he wasn’t ready to walk away, either.
Mostly because he liked the way Chester looked at him. Like he was about to back Garrett against a wall and whisper what he planned on doing to him.
He couldn’t remember the last time someone had looked at him like that while they both had their clothes on. It had been back in Australia.
“Come on then.” Chester’s hand lifted as if for a moment he expected Garrett to take it. If there hadn’t been people moving around and cleaning up, he might have. Chester gave him that all-knowing smile again.
It felt as though Chester had ripped open his suit, cracked open his ribs, and peered inside to find the secrets Garrett didn’t want to talk about. Yet, Garrett hadn’t physically felt a single touch. He should be worried, but he wanted to know what Chester had found and what it meant.
How had Chester read him so easily? What did Garrett need to fix to not be read so easily?
They walked through the restaurant, past the door that led to the bar, which was still in full swing, and then along a corridor. If Chester was taking him to his office because he wanted to do less talking, Garrett wasn’t sure he’d be able to say no.
When was the last time he acted on attraction instead of making do with whatever was on offer? It was a battle he shouldn’t need to fight. And if he’d picked any other career—or hadn’t made a mistake he never wanted to repeat—it wouldn’t have mattered.
Chester opened a door and flicked on some lights. Standing in the distillery reminded him of chemistry classes but on a bigger, industrial scale. All metal and glass and polished concrete floors.
“We run classes, so people can make their own flavors. This area is sometimes used as a function room. Making your own gin is a popular activity that gives people something to do. That said, hens’ nights are the absolute worst.”
“Not bucks nights?”
“No, because they don’t pretend that they’re here to do anything but drink. Those happen in the front bar.” Chester opened a wooden box. “I’m always playing around with different ideas. Ordering new flavors. This is the standard box we use for the class.”
“You know I’m not going to be doing any classes, right?”
Chester watched him with a hooded gaze and his lips curved as if he was amused. “I’m giving you time to relax and ask some questions, so then I can ask you some more personal questions, and we can get to know each other.”
Garrett wanted to say he wasn’t interested. That he wasn’t gay. But he couldn’t. Because Chester looked at him as though Garrett was a new and exciting flavor that he wanted to taste, and bottle, and sell.
Garrett swallowed and studied the drink in his hand. Should he admit it? Or should he ask, how did you know? The words wouldn’t form. “How did you get started with all of this? And I don’t mean buying the bar down the road before eventually upgrading.”
“I still own my first bar.” He winked at Garrett as he closed the box lid. “My father made his money making and selling moonshine and selling scrap metal. Liquor was in my blood the day I was born.”
“He must be proud of you.” Garrett had no idea what that felt like.
Chester leaned against the bar and laughed. He put his hand over his heart and shook his head. “I am the epitome of everything he hates. I’m educated and successful.”
His tongue flicked over the ball of the piercing in the center of his lip, and Garrett couldn’t look away. He wanted to lean in and run his tongue over it…
Chester’s fingers brushed Garrett’s suit-covered arm. “What about you? The unofficial version.”
“Unofficially, my mother was killed in a car accident. I missed a crucial year of playing Aussie rules. I finished high school with the grades to go to uni… college… but I didn’t know what I wanted to do, so I took a gap year. I played on one of the local teams, hoping for a chance to be drafted.” Garrett finished his drink. He was leaving out big chunks, but he didn’t share them with anyone. No one needed to hear the whole truth. “I was watching the Super Bowl with a few friends, and one of the guys playing was Australian. I looked him up and thought if he can do it, I can do it.” That part of his official story was true.
“And you did.”
“I don't have a ring.” The ring didn’t matter that much to him, even though it should. If it was a choice between playing for three years and getting a ring or playing for ten years and not having one, he knew which he’d choose. That was something else he didn’t share because no one would understand.
“Would you like another one?” This time, Chester’s touch lingered a little longer on his arm.
Garrett swallowed and stared at his empty glass. He should leave, but he wanted to stay. All the promises he’d made himself melted away.
“How did you know?” he asked quietly.
“Your glass is empty, honey.” Chester took the glass out of his hand and walked behind the bar. “Same flavor? Or would you like to try a different one?”
“I meant…”
“I know what you meant. I was giving you the grace of ignoring the question in case you freaked out.” He put two bottles on the bar. “This is the one you tried. This one is more herbal.”
“I’ll stick with what I was drinking.”
“It wasn’t anything you did exactly… I was looking.” He made up two drinks, both of them non-alcoholic. “When I was at college, I was friends with one of the male cheerleaders. I heard a lot of rumors and locker room talk, and it was mentioned more than once that the coach was more interested in players than cheerleaders.” Chester pushed the glass towards him. “We are both acquainted with Coach Harrison.”
Fuck. Garrett couldn’t breathe. The ground started spinning and threatened to toss him in an entirely new direction. “So when you read the official statement, you read between the lines.” He was going to be sick, and he couldn’t even blame alcohol.
“I did, and I think I read them correctly.” Chester took a sip, barely making eye contact. “He’s married to the owner’s daughter.”
Garrett stared at his glass. “Nothing happened.”
He didn’t want to talk about it, but he didn’t want Chester thinking he was the kind of creep who slept with married men. If Chester was going to spread a rumor about him, he at least wanted it to be correct. He lifted his gaze. “This doesn’t leave this room.”
“I’m out, but I don’t out people. I don’t want to be responsible for people getting hurt.”
Garrett nodded. That was fair enough. Maybe letting out the secret was what he needed. He sat on the bar stool opposite Chester. “I went out for a few drinks because it was my birthday. I had like three beers and a massive pile of ribs. I had a nice buzz going, but I wasn’t drunk.” If he had been, that might have been better because he’d have gone home. “I was horny and lonely and not ready for the night to end, so I looked for something to do.”
Chester smiled wryly. “Someone to do.”
Warmth bloomed on Garrett’s cheeks and spread through his blood. Not that he’d let himself think about doing Chester. “Yeah.” He spun the glass and watched the ice, hoping it would cool him down. “I turned up at the motel, had barely stepped inside the door when I realized who it was. He recognized me.” There’d been a moment of stunned silence as they both took stock of the horrible truth of the situation. “I think I stepped back and said I’m leaving. And if I had, I might still be there. It wouldn’t have been pleasant, though.”
“So why didn’t you leave?”
He took a drink because he needed a moment. “I didn’t make it out the door because a woman stormed in, yelling and screaming, and…” She’d swung her handbag at him, and then at her husband the whole time throwing out accusations. “She thinks we’re having an affair. I tried to say that I’d just turned up, and I didn’t know it was him…”
She hadn’t listened to a word he’d said.
“She sensed something was up, and followed her husband?”
Garrett nodded. “Then I’m called into the coach’s office and told I’ve been traded.”
Chester lifted his eyebrows. “That’s not going to save his marriage.”
“I don’t think he or his wife want it to get out.”
Chester pressed his lips together. “Not until the bitter divorce, anyway.”
“Maybe he’ll stop,” Garrett asked a bit too hopefully.
“Do you really believe that? Especially knowing now that he did the same thing while coaching college football?”
“Put like that, it seems unlikely.” Which meant at some point, his name was going to be dragged through the mud. “I won’t be making the same mistake again. I deleted the apps, and I’m committed to not drinking at all, for any reason.”
Chester considered him for a couple of heartbeats. “I already figured I wasn’t going to be getting you tipsy and inviting you home. If you’re insisting on being celibate as well, that makes things a little harder.”
Garrett couldn’t help grinning. Were they flirting? Was Chester interested in him? “No pun intended?”
Chester groaned. “Don’t smile at me like that.”
“Like what? It’s my smile. I can’t help it.”
Chester’s voice dropped to a low drawl. “Like that because it makes me want to lean in and lick one of your dimples, to find out what you taste like.”
His breath caught and his dick, which had been half interested, went all in. If he hadn’t been sure before, he was now, but he wasn’t sure what to do. “Are you hitting on me?”
“Do you want me to?”
Yes, of course he did. “Why?”
“Why is it so hard to believe?” His fingertips brushed the back of Garrett’s hand and didn’t leave.
Garrett froze. His palm was cold from the ice in the drink, but his blood was hot, and he wanted to find out what it would be like to embrace the attraction instead of fearing it and avoiding it. To lean over the bar and kiss him and feel the metal against his tongue, to feel Chester’s stubble against his cheek.
“You’re…” Garrett didn’t know what to say. “I have never lived freely like you. My father would not have approved, and I didn’t want to cause friction with my team.” He’d had one boyfriend in his last year of high school. They had both been worried about what it meant, and what would happen. Since then, everything has been much more clinical. Organized.
“I can see the fear in your eyes.” Chester finished his drink and put the glass in the dishwasher.
“That’s because I am afraid. I’m not used to this, but I don’t think I can walk away.” He wished he could. He wished he’d denied everything. This time, he couldn’t even blame alcohol. Which meant what he felt was real, not liquor-driven lust. “I don’t want to walk away.”
“I don’t want you to walk away. Even though that would be the smart thing to do.”
“Agreed.” Great, they both wanted this, and they both didn’t want this. Whatever this was. It was already far more exciting than anything he’d had over the last six years.
Chester put his elbows on the bar and leaned forward. “You’re going to finish your drink and give me the glass. Then you’re going to walk over to that door and you’re either going to lock it or go through it.”
Garrett glanced at the door they’d come through. “And then what?”
“You have an accounting degree; you’re not stupid.” Chester grabbed Garrett’s tie and pulled him forward until their noses brushed, and there was only an inch between their lips.
“Inexperienced,” Garrett countered.
“You have had sex with another man, right?”
“Yes! I’m meant with the flirting and seduction.”
Chester's lips brushed his in a whisper of a kiss. “Oh honey, I’m not even trying. If I was, you’d been naked and begging.”
Garrett closed his eyes. His cheeks burned. Did that mean Chester thought he didn’t need to try? “I don’t know what you like.”
Chester’s tongue danced over the seam of Garrett’s lips, and they parted as if seeking more.
“So ask. I’ve heard you talk all night.” Chester drew back to look him in the eye. “You’re very good at asking about other people while not talking about yourself.”
It was only a few words, but he couldn’t force them out. It had been different with his boyfriend. They’d both been experimenting and figuring stuff out. Chester was older by a decade, and he wasn’t hiding.
He was going to fumble this.
Chester leaned in. His kiss landed at the corner of Garrett’s lips. “Why don’t you start by deciding which side of the door you want to be on?” He released Garrett’s tie and stood up. “I do need your glass, though, because I don’t want to leave a mess for others to clean.”
Garrett finished his drink without tasting it and slid off the stool. They’d barely kissed, but his lips burned. He wanted to lick them to see if they tasted like Chester.
He wanted to taste Chester.