Chapter Four
“Hey, Tommy!” Gene’s voice sounded from the bar. Tommy glanced over his shoulder from the table he was clearing. Gene was stocky, in his late fifties with buzzed gray hair and watery blue eyes. “It’s slow tonight, you wanna take off early?”
His boss was a nice guy, always willing to let him work even if there wasn’t much to do, but he always gave Tommy the choice.
In truth, they could use the money. Hell, they could always use the money, but it had been over two months since he’d felt anyone’s hand on him but his own. The kids were covered for the night, not expecting him home until after two when the joint closed, and for once he had the car. He decided he’d take the three hours off and figure out a way to make a few extra bucks later if it came down to it.
“I think I will,” he told Gene as he put the last of the dishes into a bin. “You want me to finish this load first?”
Gene looked around the empty pub with a laugh and lit a cigarette. It was against the law, but it didn’t look like anyone would catch him tonight. “Nah, leave ’em, it’ll give me something to do till closing.”
Tommy laughed and dumped the bin in the kitchen before grabbing his jacket. He thought about calling Bobby to see if he was off, but he decided against it. The two of them had been spending too much time together as it was. The last three nights they’d both had off, they ended up shooting some pool and having a few beers before going home and spending time with the kids. He loved watching Bobby lean over the pool table to line up a shot. He especially liked the way Bobby would stand close to him and whisper in his ear if the bar was noisy. But too many times, he thought he might tackle Bobby, pin him down, and kiss him until neither of them could breathe. It was starting to drive Tommy up the wall.
He had a half ounce of Kelly’s weed under the front seat of the car and decided he’d head to Jump—the only gay bar within twenty-five miles—and make up for the lost hours. And with any luck, he’d get Bobby McAlister out of his head. For a little while, at least.
Even for a Friday night the club was packed. Tommy was able to make his connection within ten minutes and did a hasty deal in one of the stalls in the men’s room. Now he stood at the bar and watched the crowd, hoping to have a more satisfying deal in the same bathroom stall.
He shook his head in frustration when he realized all the guys he was checking out looked suspiciously like his favorite blond-haired, blue-eyed cop. He hissed a curse and downed his drink. He was about to order another when an all-too-familiar voice sounded against his ear. “Can I buy you a drink?”
Even over the loud music and the chaos of laughter and conversation, Tommy recognized Bobby’s voice. Several questions ran through his mind at the same time. Had Bobby gotten some promotion to vice? Was he there undercover? Had Bobby taken up following him around to make sure he wasn’t getting into trouble? Or were the glances and pregnant pauses more real than Tommy had let himself believe? He hadn’t answered yet, but he could still feel Bobby’s chest pressed against his back in the crowd. Rather than say anything, Tommy turned around to face him.
The expressions that chased over Bobby’s face told Tommy he hadn’t known who he was talking to. First Bobby looked confused, then embarrassed, and then slightly terrified. Words seemed lost to him as he opened his mouth and then closed it again. Tommy had never seen him so flustered. He liked it.
Leaning in, Tommy finally asked against Bobby’s ear, “You here on official business?” If Bobby were there for a bust—which seemed unlikely at best—Tommy didn’t want to blow it for him.
Bobby seemed to collect himself, arching a brow and looking him square in the eye. “Are you?”
Tommy grinned at him, teasing and predatory at the same time. “My business is already done, now I just want that drink you offered.”
Bobby elbowed his way to the bar and squeezed in next to Tommy, signaling the bartender for two of whatever Tommy was drinking. “Do I wanna know?” Bobby asked after the drinks were in front of them.
Tommy understood without asking for clarification. He turned to face the bar again as he answered, “You probably do, but it’s better that ya don’t.”
Without looking at him directly, only catching his eye in the mirror behind the shelves of liquor bottles, Bobby nodded. “Fair enough.” He threw back his drink and set the glass down on the polished wood counter. “You come here often?”
Laughing out loud, Tommy teased, “That’s your best line? I hope to hell you’re here on some undercover mission.”
Bobby cast him a sideways glance. “I’m not. And that wasn’t a line. I was just curious since I’ve never seen you in here before.”
Well. There you have it, folks. Tommy took a moment to process the new information, but his cock seemed to understand much faster, growing hard in his jeans and getting hopeful. “You know almost as well as I do that I don’t get out much.” He was curious now and cursing himself for it. “What about you?”
Bobby glanced at him again, wetting his full lips before he spoke. “Couple times a month.” He said the words like he was confessing a sin, and Tommy had to check himself. There was a burst of something hot and unwanted burning in the pit of his stomach. Jealousy? Really? It was ridiculous and he knew it. Bobby helped tamp down the spreading fire by adding, “There’s this guy I’ve been hanging out with a lot lately, but I wasn’t sure if he’s gay.”
Working his tight throat around a hard swallow, Tommy told him, “Maybe he’s been wondering the same thing about you.”
Bobby turned to look at him then, leaning on the bar and smiling. “A guy can hope.” When Tommy didn’t respond to that, Bobby asked, “Seriously, though, what was your business in here?”
Tommy heard a note of concern over the curiosity, and he hated himself for wanting to tell Bobby all of it. He knew Bobby wouldn’t be able to look the other way, and if he did, it would gnaw at Bobby and at their friendship before long. He hated that most of all, hated knowing how unlikely they were together, how bad of an idea it was. It pissed him off, and he let it out in his tone when he responded. “You’re not my PO, Bobby. If you trust me at all, trust that you don’t wanna know every detail about my fuckin’ life or what I have to do sometimes to get by, okay?”
That got a contemptuous glare from Bobby, and Tommy could see him tense before he bit out an answer. “Are you shitting me?” Bobby pulled out his wallet and paid their bar tab, slapping the money down so hard his palm probably stung afterward. “You think I’m just, what? Being nosy? You think I ever forget that I’m not allowed into the private dealings of Tommy O’Shea? Or that you live every day with more shit on your plate than most people have to deal with in a lifetime?”
He was jerking away, more angry than Tommy had ever seen him. It looked like he was going to turn and walk out, but instead Bobby stepped closer, aggressive, powerful despite having to look up an inch or two to see Tommy’s face as he snarled, “If you still think I’m just some overprotective do-gooder and all I want is to put my nose where it doesn’t belong, then fuck you, Tommy.”
It was the fierceness of the words and the way his body brushed against Tommy’s. It was the unrestrained heat and maybe even the look of hurt in Bobby’s eyes when he spoke. Tommy couldn’t help it, couldn’t think clearly enough to stop himself. He knew he should have pushed Bobby away, turned around, and locked Bobby out of his life for good, but instead he fisted his hand into the front of Bobby’s shirt and pulled him into a biting kiss.
That first touch of their lips together wasn’t full of romance and tender want. It was animal attraction and need, fury combined with longing, and it made something explode inside of Tommy. When Bobby groaned into his mouth, Tommy opened up for more, slid his free hand down Bobby’s back, and pressed their hips together.
In that moment, surrounded by onlookers, people dancing and laughing, drinks being sipped and sloshed in the throng, Tommy and Bobby might as well have been alone. All Tommy was aware of was the feel of Bobby’s body, the warmth, the strength, and the sensation of his own tongue as it slid against Bobby’s teeth into the slick heat of his mouth.
They were breathless when they pulled apart, and Bobby still looked like he was spoiling for a fight, a wild glint in his eyes. Tommy wondered if maybe Bobby thought it was a bad idea too, an idea so bad it could only have a tragic ending. Or at the very least, end with Bobby’s career in the toilet. There was no guessing what it would be, but something was certainly going to die if they decided to let this relationship live.
Bobby worked his jaw like he was trying to chew glass, but eventually he said, “Let’s go.”
The words were part challenge and part plea, and Tommy answered both by taking Bobby’s hand and pulling him roughly toward the exit.
Bobby had taken a cab to the club. They didn’t bother with playful gropes and quick kisses on the way to Tommy’s car. Both of them had their eyes set on a single goal, and Tommy knew if he let himself touch Bobby again, he wouldn’t be able to stop.
At least the drive was short and mercifully silent. He chanced a few glances at Bobby at the traffic lights and stop signs, but neither of them made eye contact. It felt more like going into battle or walking into a boxing ring than driving home for a nice long fuck with the guy you’d been wanting for months. Years, if he were being honest.
Tommy had to wonder if Bobby saw it the same way. Given the look of concentration on Bobby’s face, he figured he was close to the mark, if not dead center.
They kept a safe distance on their way into the house. Tommy didn’t need gossip flying around, and Bobby seemed to understand without being told. The windows were dark, most of the lights out, and it was late enough he was sure the kids were in bed.
After a few fumbles with his keys, Tommy finally got the door open, and they both slipped inside. He closed the door on the outside world and let himself breathe for what felt like the first time since Bobby had offered to buy him a drink. He stood facing the front door, resisting the urge to rest his forehead on it and give himself a moment to consider his next move, when Bobby stepped closer. Tommy’s chest constricted when he felt Bobby’s hand on his waist.
Tommy turned slowly. They looked at each other for a long moment, their faces barely visible in the soft glow of the single light left on down the hall. Neither spoke or attempted to get closer. They simply looked at each other, suspended there in the space between right and wrong, the space between bliss and disaster. Tommy wasn’t sure of much, but he did know this was going to end badly, however it went down. He felt a surge of anger and bitterness in his throat as he cursed his life, cursed Bobby’s too. In another world they could have met in high school, played around, maybe even stayed together afterward. But here and now Bobby was just an innocent bystander in Tommy’s train wreck he called a life.
The tension in the room was rising so far and so fast it was palpable. Tommy let all that anger and all that resentment—all the fear—rise up with it. He pulled Bobby into a kiss so hard and so fierce it felt like a punishment.
Bobby surprised the hell out of him by meeting it with the same uncontrolled force, the two of them practically grappling together in the entryway. They grabbed each other frantically, tore at each other’s clothes, and fought for dominance.
Tommy let his teeth scrape so sharply against Bobby’s lip he knew it had to hurt, but Bobby didn’t pull back. Instead he dropped his head to Tommy’s shoulder and bit down. He caught the sensitive skin of Tommy’s neck. A small sound escaped the back of Tommy’s throat as an intense thrill jumped through him. He was sure Bobby had left a mark on him that would sting for days.
He finally pulled back to look at Bobby. Their eyes met before Tommy kissed him again. Both of them were breathless when Tommy dragged him up the stairs to his bedroom.
Tommy’s room had been a large linen closet in another life. With barely enough space for his double bed, he had to cram the nightstand between it and the wall. He didn’t have a window or a dresser, just an exposed bulb in the ceiling and a private place to lay his head at night.
Once Tommy closed the door, he whispered roughly, “Gotta be quiet.”
Bobby didn’t say anything, but he stepped closer, jerking Tommy down into another kiss. It wasn’t exactly gentle, but it wasn’t tainted with the same brutality as earlier. Bobby threaded his fingers into Tommy’s hair and tugged just enough for Tommy to part his lips with a quick breath. Bobby took advantage and slid his tongue into Tommy’s mouth easily, as if that had been his plan all along.
The two of them met in the middle for the first time that night, giving and taking in equal measure as they pressed together in the claustrophobic space.
Tommy’s mouth was dry with nervousness as he trailed his hands down Bobby’s sides, pulling him closer and slipping his palms under Bobby’s T-shirt. He felt the muscles under Bobby’s warm skin shudder and tighten, and he liked it. He liked knowing all it took was a simple touch and Bobby couldn’t control himself.
Bobby’s eyes closed when Tommy let his hand drift lower. He dipped his fingers into the edge of Bobby’s jeans, feeling his ass while he pulled Bobby closer, pressing their erections between them. He dragged his lips over Bobby’s throat in slow kisses that made Bobby whimper. Tommy liked that sound, and he smiled against Bobby’s pulse before he pulled back to strip off Bobby’s T-shirt.
As if they were playing a game of tit for tat, Bobby pushed Tommy’s own shirt up and over his head. He let it fall to the floor before he kissed Tommy again. They stood there for a long moment, quiet and almost curious, as they took advantage of the fresh expanses of warm skin with tender touches. Bobby tugged Tommy’s jeans open and slid his hand inside. When Bobby wrapped his fingers around his cock, it was Tommy’s turn to whimper. Bobby gave him a long, slow stroke as a reward.
In a matter of seconds, they had a pile of clothes and shoes on the floor by the bed. Tommy didn’t bother with preamble or even another kiss before he pushed Bobby back onto the mattress and fell over him.
Their erections grazed together, slick with precome, when Bobby tangled his fingers into Tommy’s hair as it fell around his face. He pulled Tommy closer, their eyes locked together as Bobby rasped, “Condom.”
It wasn’t a question. Bobby wasn’t asking if they needed one, he was telling Tommy they had gotten as far as they were going to go without one. Tommy couldn’t blame him, and if he had been thinking clearly, he would have felt the same way.
Tommy pulled back with a quick nod, reaching over and opening his nightstand. He had to dig a little since he didn’t use condoms very often. He didn’t bother with one for oral or hand jobs, and that was all he’d had in over a year.
Lifting his head, Bobby said, “There’s one in my jeans if—”
“I got it.” The words were clipped and sounded annoyed as he realized he didn’t want to think about Bobby like that. He didn’t want to think about Bobby out at the clubs or in the backseat of some guy’s car letting someone else touch him. He pushed the thought away and finally saw what he’d been looking for. Buried under an ancient Playgirl and the bong he’d been expelled for making in ceramics class when he was fourteen, Tommy found a strip of condoms. Thankfully the lube was more accessible.
Rising up on his knees, he looked down at Bobby. Bobby’s skin was flushed pink over his tight muscles, his short-cropped curls standing up in spikes as he bit his lip. Bobby stroked himself, a strong hand moving in long, smooth motions over his cock, hips rocking subtly into his own touch. His thighs were spread, bare feet resting beside Tommy’s legs. He looked more like a porn star than a cop, and Tommy nearly laughed. Some angel he turned out to be.
Bobby surprised him when he spoke. “If you just wanna watch, I’ll get on with it.” He was teasing, but Tommy could see him tighten his grip, running up the length of his shaft from root to tip, milking out another pearl of clear fluid that he ran his thumb through.
“I’d tell ya to keep your pants on, but….”
Tommy got a soft laugh for that. Bobby shook his head and reached for him with his free hand. “Shut up and fuck me, asshole.”
Smirking, Tommy asked, “Is that an order, Officer?” He was ripping open a condom wrapper, wanting to touch Bobby, wanting to be inside him, but he wanted to draw things out as long as he could too. “I should report you for sexual harassment.”
Bobby snorted. “You better get on with the harassing, or we’ll trade places.”
Just the idea sent a spike of desire through Tommy’s blood. He’d only bottomed a few times, and he never really liked it, but the thought of Bobby being inside him was far more appealing than he wanted to admit. He rolled the condom down his erection, feeling his skin flush, the heat crawling over his chest and shoulders, making its way to his cheeks. He gave himself a solid stroke over the latex as Bobby reached for the lube.
“You’d have to wrestle me for that one.”
There was very little conviction in his voice, though. He was distracted, watching Bobby prep himself, slicking his fingers with lube and pushing them inside himself. Tommy groaned and bit his lips between his teeth.
Bobby was still stroking himself with one hand as he lubed himself with the other. Tommy was mesmerized by the sight, unable to do much but watch.
With one small gasp, Bobby pulled his hand back and nodded his head. “Maybe next time,” he whispered.
At first Tommy wasn’t sure what Bobby was talking about, his thoughts too focused on the fact that he was about to fuck Bobby McAlister.
Tommy shifted on the bed and reached for him. He started to turn Bobby around, and Bobby took the cue. He rolled over onto his stomach and rose up slightly on his knees. Tommy thought it might be easier to focus if he weren’t looking into Bobby’s eyes and trying to read every expression that flitted across his face.
He took his time as he pressed closer behind Bobby. He ran a hand down the curve of Bobby’s ass while he stroked the head of his cock against Bobby’s entrance. Tommy could tell it was frustrating him. He rocked back against Tommy and tried for more contact. After another long moment, Bobby said, “I’m not some blushing virgin, Tom.” The pillow muffled his words, and it made Tommy laugh before he offered one firm push past the taut ring of muscle. Bobby hissed a curse as Tommy rolled his hips and slid deeper.
“Jesus,” Tommy muttered, feeling the tight heat around his cock as he entered Bobby. “You sure about that?” He was trying to tease even as his voice was straining, his body humming with the urge to move harder.
Bobby sounded just as tortured, but he laughed as he spoke. “I promise.”
He shifted under Tommy and pressed back again, meeting the slow rocking of Tommy’s hips. Tommy pushed deeper. He didn’t stop until he was leaning over Bobby and their bodies were touching at every possible point. He wanted to catch Bobby’s moans and curses in his mouth, but it was impossible, so he left a warm, open kiss on Bobby’s shoulder.
“Need more, Tom,” Bobby panted.
Tommy couldn’t tell if that was pain or greed he heard in Bobby’s voice, but he pulled back and thrust in deep. The movement was sharp and quick, and when Bobby groaned and shuddered, Tommy knew it was what Bobby had wanted so he did it again.
They started a rough rhythm together, their hips rocking, muscles twitching. One heated stroke after another, the two of them naked, sweating, chests heaving under the harsh light above them.
It didn’t take long before Bobby tried to get his hand between his body and the mattress. Tommy pulled back to give him more room, and when that didn’t seem like enough, he sat back on his heels and took Bobby with him.
Bobby let out a surprised gasp when he was seated all the way down on Tommy’s cock. Their bodies fit together perfectly—Bobby’s knees bent, his back pressed to Tommy’s chest. Tommy trailed hard kisses over the side of Bobby’s neck as he wrapped his arm around Bobby’s waist. He slipped his hand lower and grabbed Bobby’s erection.
Tommy slicked his palm in short, swift strokes that matched their clumsy rhythm as Bobby reached behind him and laced his fingers into Tommy’s hair.
Tommy’s release was charging through him at top speed, tensing his muscles and kicking his heartbeat up to dangerous levels.
When Bobby’s voice started to carry, getting louder and louder with every thrust of Tommy’s hips, every stroke over his cock, Tommy reached up and covered Bobby’s mouth. Bobby let his head fall back on Tommy’s shoulder then, and Tommy could feel Bobby’s breath against his skin in hot puffs. Bobby cried out against Tommy’s palm as he came hard through the fingers of Tommy’s other hand.
Tommy was on the edge, and the way Bobby moved and the sounds he made as he came were enough to drag Tommy with him. He leaned forward again and pushed Bobby into the mattress as he picked up the tempo, thrusting in hot, needy movements until he was coming too.
Tommy fell over Bobby, panting against his slick skin, kissing the back of his neck. It was a tender gesture that Tommy had never wanted to offer anyone before. That it felt so natural was almost alarming, but Tommy chose not to think about it. Instead he pulled back to dispose of the condom. He dropped it on the floor for lack of anything better to do with it.
Lifting his head, Bobby laughed as he watched. “I know it’s a small room, but I bet you could fit a wastebasket in here somewhere….”
Falling onto his back, exhausted, Tommy gave him a small push. “If I’d known how this night was gonna end, I would’ve prepared a little better.”
They both laughed, and Bobby shifted on the small bed to get closer to Tommy—or maybe he just wanted to get out of the wet spot. Either way, he didn’t wait for an invitation. He didn’t need one, and Tommy wondered if Bobby knew that already.
Tommy let his eyes slide shut when Bobby wrapped an arm across his ribs and rested his head on Tommy’s chest. They didn’t bother with a blanket since the air was stifling enough in there.
“You do this often? Bring guys home, I mean?” Bobby asked, his face still hidden against Tommy’s shoulder as if embarrassed by his own question.
“Never have, never thought I would,” Tommy admitted. “I’ve never trusted anyone around the kids before….”
Bobby lifted his head then, looking at Tommy as he asked, “Do they know? I mean, are you out to the family?”
Nodding, Tommy explained. “Yeah, well, Colleen knows. Not like I’m hiding it from the rest of ’em, just hasn’t come up.” His fingers were itching for a cigarette, but he didn’t want to get up and go outside for one. “What about you? Are you out on the force and shit?”
Bobby ran a soothing hand over Tommy’s chest and stomach, as if he understood what Tommy was craving and understood how much Tommy didn’t want any deep heart-to-heart conversations. “Not really. My partner knows, a couple of the higher-ups at the station know, but that’s about it. I told my TO when I was in training, and he suggested that I keep my preferences on a need-to-know basis.” Tommy felt him shrug as Bobby dropped his head again. “I’d rather be out and proud and marching in parades in my uniform and all that crap, but I gotta work with these guys, ya know?”
“Yeah, I get it. You don’t see me posting a sign in the yard or slapping some rainbow flag sticker on the car.”
“Does Cal know?”
Tommy snorted a laugh in response. “He’s not home enough or sober enough to notice or care what I do with my dick.”
“Good point,” Bobby said with a small laugh. They were quiet for a moment before Bobby spoke again, answering a question Tommy was trying not to ask. “My mom knows. She was a little disappointed, I think. She always wanted grandkids since she never got the big family she wanted.”
Tommy tightened his arm around Bobby without meaning to. Something about that little whisper, the sound in Bobby’s voice when he said he thought his mother was disappointed, made Tommy’s chest tight. He hated the sensation, but he didn’t resist it either. “You can still give her grandkids. Gay guys adopt all the time,” Tommy told him, a need to make Bobby feel better rushing through him. “Or you could get one of those girls to have one for ya. What do they call it?”
“Surrogate,” Bobby said softly, shifting closer.
“Yeah, that.” Tommy laughed then, turning so he was facing Bobby, the two of them tangling together. “Tell your mom I’ve got a few she can borrow if she’s lonely,” he joked. He could feel Bobby smile against his neck, and they were both quiet after that. Bobby’s breathing evened out and went soft against Tommy’s skin. He knew he should wake Bobby, kick him out, and put down some ground rules, but damn it all, it felt good to lay like this with Bobby. It felt safe, comforting. What he always imagined a real home would feel like.
Tommy drifted off for a few minutes, wrapped around Bobby and feeling his life might be worth something after all. But the overhead light was still on, and his skin was sticky. It took some doing, but he managed to untangle himself and get off the bed. He threw a sheet over Bobby, not wanting him to wake up exposed and alone in the unfamiliar room, before he pulled on a pair of sweats and turned off the light.
Sitting on the back step, Tommy took a long drag off his cigarette. He knew Bobby didn’t smoke, but Bobby didn’t seem to mind the taste of it when they kissed or the smell of it on his clothes. Maybe he should quit. It wasn’t like he ever paid for them, but he knew they were bad for him. Not to mention the example he was setting for the kids. Colleen was already smoking, and he knew Mike lifted a few off him every now and again. Damn.
He nearly jumped off the step when the back door opened. Colleen stood there in a T-shirt and pair of shorts, her hair looking wild, eyes heavy.
“You okay, Tommy?” She sat down beside him and reached for the cigarette between his fingers before taking a drag.
He narrowed his eyes and snatched it back from her. “Yeah, why?”
“You’re not usually up this early.” She was quiet for a minute before she added, “I noticed Bobby in your bed when I came down….”
Shit. “He awake yet?”
“Sleeping like a baby. You gonna tell me the score?”
Tommy laughed. “He’s just sleeping over tonight, no big deal.”
“Bullshit.”
Feeling his frustration simmer inside him, Tommy ran his hand through his hair before he flicked the butt into a can at the foot of the stairs. “Bullshit and a bad idea, but he’s here nonetheless.”
“Are you two, like… a couple now? Or…?”
Tommy exhaled a laugh. “I think we qualify as an ‘or’ for now.” A couple. Was she serious? “He’s a good guy,” he added as an afterthought, leaving too good for me unspoken.
Resting her head on Tommy’s shoulder, Colleen pressed a kiss there, her words hushed when she spoke. “So’re you, Tommy.”
He wrapped his arm around her and pulled her close. He didn’t thank her for the comment, but part of him wanted to. “How are things with you and Wyatt?” he asked, wanting to change the subject.
Colleen lifted her head and smiled. “Good. He’s leaving for school in a couple months, but he said he’d fix my phone for free texting and stuff before he leaves.”
Tommy laughed. “Shit, leave it to us to corrupt the only good kid in the neighborhood. How the hell did he learn how to do that?”
Shrugging, Colleen told him, “He knew how to do it before we met. I told ya he was smart.”
“Criminal mastermind,” Tommy teased.
The sun wasn’t quite up and the street was quiet. “You gonna get Bobby outta here before the kids get up?”
“You think I should?” Tommy was almost afraid of what her answer might be.
Colleen’s voice was firm as she spoke. “No. The ones that are old enough to understand probably won’t care, and the babies already love Bobby.”
“All the more reason to hustle him out the door before they get up. I don’t want anyone getting attached.”
“They’re already attached to him, Tommy.” Colleen rolled her eyes. “And so are you. You should let it ride, see what happens.”
Tommy considered her advice, chewing his lip before he spoke. “I’m not into gambling, Col, especially when it comes to you guys.”
“Neither am I, but Jesus, Tommy. Some bets are worth the risk. Bobby’s a good guy. He’s not gonna do anything to mess us up.”
“Maybe I’m worried about us messing him up.” He wasn’t just playing devil’s advocate and Colleen seemed to know it.
“Maybe you should let him decide for himself if he’s willing to take that chance.”
With a deep, resigned sigh, Tommy stood up. “Guess we should both try and get some more sleep, then. We’re having a coming out party tomorrow.”