Chapter 2
CHAPTER 2
AUSTIN
I needed to get out of this place to breathe and escape Alex’s ghost in the loft we shared for three years.
I needed something. Someone. An escape.
Alcohol called to me so I could obliterate my mind for a while and run from this mental hell I was in. But not at home. A bar. Yes, a bar would do. And somewhere close so I wouldn’t have to drive. I could just stumble home.
My mind was in chaos. Fear, anger, despair… It was suffocating.
Too much shit dumping on me pushed me over the edge.
I dragged my reeking body to the bathroom and climbed into the shower to wash away two weeks' worth of stink, grease, and filth. Too bad it couldn’t wash away my living nightmare.
Even worse, I’d never be able to move on from Alex because this virus would forever remind me of what he’d done to me. How did one recover from that?
After getting dressed, I stepped into the living room area and stopped in my tracks.
Flashes of taking a knife while in a drunken rage and shredding all the art I’d created of Alex suddenly hit me. A pang took hold at the waste—a waste of five years, a waste of my body and soul, and a waste of all that beautiful art. But there was no lingering regret at the loss of all my work. I couldn’t look at Alex’s form ever again without the rage and fear.
It was time for obliteration.
The October evening was cold and windy, but the gay club was only five blocks away.
When I pushed the doors open to the club, I was hit with warmth, an overabundance of cologne, and stale beer.
I dropped off my coat and scarf with the coat-check person, then shoved my way through the crowd of men straight to the bar.
A cute bartender with blond hair swooped back and a thick blond beard came up to me, wiping down the counter.
“What’ll you have, handsome?” he yelled over the heavy dance beat.
“Two shots of your best Anejo tequila and an old-fashioned, with more old and less fashion.”
“So, basically bourbon on the rocks?”
“Yep.”
By the fourth shot of tequila, I was well on my way toward obliteration, the warmth of alcohol spreading across my skin while my brain tingled and the music buzzed in my ears. It didn’t help that I hadn’t eaten much in the past month, and I’d lost a lot of weight.
“Yeah, pour me a margarita, will you, with an extra splash of Patrón,” said someone with a deliciously deep voice.
I glanced over at the man, standing at least three inches taller than my six feet. With his hair nearly black and dark scruff on his face over pale and creamy skin, he was the opposite of Alex, who’d been tan with blond hair.
The man’s tall and lean frame filled his navy blue suit perfectly, keeping his jacket open and the top three buttons of his white dress shirt unbuttoned without a tie. Black hair peeked out of his shirt as if to say hello.
“Tequila? A man after my own heart,” I said, buzzed enough not to care how corny that sounded.
He lifted his drink, took a sip, and turned to face me, leaning on the bar with a smirk that exposed dimples on his stunningly rugged and handsome face.
“Next, you’re going to ask me if I come here often.”
I gulped back the remaining bourbon and ordered another. “Do you? Come here often, that is.”
He chuckled, exposing expensively straight white teeth. “First time. Just moved to the area. You?”
“I come here from time to time. How do you like our beloved city of Chicago?”
“I like it just fine. Then again, I’m from boring Little Rock.”
A naughty idea formed in my drunken haze. Sex was all I could think about with this man. Not exactly sex. I wasn’t drunk enough or cruel enough to hurt someone like that. I definitely wasn’t that asshole Alex. But I had this desperate need to discover if this guy tasted as good as he looked. He’d make a perfect distraction.
When I got my fresh drink, I downed half of it, no longer feeling the burn washing over my numbed throat. “You’re hot. Want to get blown?”
He choked on his drink as he laughed. “Bolder than I expected. Sure, why not? I’m always game for a good orgasm.”
We set our drinks on the counter, and I took his hand in mine. I led him toward the bathrooms, where some couples were already having fun, and shoved him into one of the empty stalls.
“I’m Dallas, by the way,” he said.
What were the odds? I would’ve laughed that we were both named after cities in Texas, but I didn’t care. My mind wasn’t in a good place. I just needed to fucking forget, and the alcohol wasn’t doing enough to help with that.
“I’m Austin.”
“Hey, that’s cool?—”
I smothered him in a kiss to shut him the hell up.
No talking.
No emotions.
No nothing.
I only wanted to feel his cock in my mouth and taste his bitter sweetness exploding on my tongue.
My hands threaded through his thick, cropped hair, pulling him deeper into a kiss. Our tongues clashed and fought for taste and exploration. Dallas tasted divine with tequila and lime while his light and peppery cologne swirled around me, filling my senses as I got lost in his demanding mouth with firm yet buttery-soft lips.
Hands slid under my Henley, smoothing soft palms across my skin. I buzzed with more than alcohol as I got lost in our kiss.
I slid my knee between his legs, feeling his stiff cock pressed against my thigh. Our bodies pressed closer together, seemingly uninterested in anything more than kissing.
We kissed each other as if we were all about to die at any moment, and this would be the last time we ever kissed, putting our entire bodies into it. My drunken dick took notice.
As much as I wanted to push aside my emotions and just have fun, they slid into my periphery unheeded. All the pain and suffering I’d gone through the past month trickled to the surface, threatening to ruin my evening. So, I kissed him harder because our kiss made me forget even for a second.
But Dallas suddenly moaned, pulling me back to reality.
Dammit!
No.
This wasn’t why we were here. I needed nothingness.
Our kissing was growing too personal and intimate.
I quickly pulled away, wiped my mouth with the back of my hand, and fell to my knees on the disgusting bathroom floor.
“Holy shit, you can kiss,” he breathed. “I’ve never…”
I said nothing as I lifted his shirt and pried apart his belt. I didn’t look up at him when I unzipped his slacks and let them pool around his ankles. His boxer briefs were in black, holding in his ample package.
Unwillingly, I glanced up at him, his blue eyes blown black. He gave me a simple nod and his permission, so I pulled down his underwear, exposing his hard cock. It was pale and smooth except for the head, which was flushed and started to bead pre-cum. He wasn’t so thick I wouldn’t be able to wrap my lips around him, but he was nice and long with pretty veins. Fuck, his cock was perfect.
When I stroked him a few times, pumping him up, his deft fingers forked through my hair much too gently. It was too goddamn intimate.
This felt all wrong.
I felt all wrong.
My body itched with the sensation of contamination—a month of sweat, grease, eating crap whenever I remembered to eat, and now HIV. Realistically, I knew I couldn’t give him HIV from a kiss, but the buzzing fear wouldn’t leave me.
I couldn’t do this to him. He deserved better, and I didn’t give a fuck if I knew him or not.
Alex destroyed me inside and out.
I suddenly stood, struggling to breathe, looking at Dallas wide-eyed as the tears threatened. His worried look grew blurry as the first tears spilled. He quickly pulled up his underwear and pants. This had to end now.
“Oh, god… I shouldn’t have come here. I’m so sorry.”
The alcohol didn’t settle well as it started to burn in my stomach, threatening to come up.
“Austin?”
“I’m so sorry,” I said again, pushing my way out of there and wiping my face, which refused to stop leaking.
“Austin!”
This wasn’t me.
I wasn’t a player.
“Wait!”
This was all wrong.
“Are you okay?”
I was all wrong.
“Let me help you.”
Why did he care? I didn’t deserve it.
When I stepped out of the bathroom, the music drowned out his calls to me. My pace was wobbly, and bodies jolted me back and forth while the bar spun in my vision, threatening to knock me down. I nearly fell before someone gripped my arm to keep me steady, but I yanked it away.
I needed to get out there.
I couldn’t believe Alex had done this to me. He’d changed my life forever.
When I stepped out into the cold night without my coat, I ran.
What day is it?
What time is it?
I lifted my head to grab my phone off my bedside table only to find it was dead because I couldn’t remember the last time I’d charged it.
I sat up, tossed the covers off me, and rubbed my scruffy face. My entire body ached from my emotional turmoil, but panic flickered that I was symptomatic already. I felt my throat, checking for swollen lymph nodes, but they seemed normal.
Something had to give.
Something had to change.
I couldn’t live like this.
I picked up the phone and called my doctor.