Chapter 2
2
I tortured myself with thoughts of regret over my impetuous outburst. I should have kept my big mouth shut. I’m really not a confrontational kind of guy. Alcohol was surely to blame. The best course of action from a professional standpoint would be to fess up to my inebriated state that evening and apologize. I wasn’t sure I wanted to, though I had to admit that the very idea of running into him at work scared me.
I had a fear of being stuck riding in the elevator with him, seeing him in the office kitchen, or hell, even in passing from my desk to a conference room. It was ridiculous. Happily, none of my fears were realized in the week after my spontaneous verbal assault. I learned through the grapevine that Mr. Morgan was traveling for business. Whew! I could only hope it was a long trip.
Why was I wasting a moment more thinking about him?
I shook my head in an attempt to rid my brain of unwanted thoughts and refocus. It was time to move on. Spring had sprung, and DC was at its most beautiful. The weather was warming and the cherry blossoms were in bloom. It was time for a new start and the desire to be around my own kind was stronger than ever. I had had enough of blending with the hetero crowd for a while. I wanted to be carefree and not worry about how I sounded or how I looked. I just wanted to be me.
It was time to go dancing.
I picked Aaron up by taxi Saturday night, dressed to impress in light-colored designer jeans with holes in all the right places and a snug V-neck black T-shirt. It was my go-to hot club-wear. Aaron looked hot too. He had on a pair of ass-hugging black designer jeans and a peek-a-boo mesh top.
He had used his glitter wand liberally, and his hazel eyes were well lined. I borrowed a little lip gloss and let him put the smallest bit of eyeliner on my eyes. He claimed I looked fabulous, and a glance in the mirror proved he might just be right. However, I wasn’t accustomed to wearing makeup, and I didn’t want to feel self-conscious tonight.
Aaron looked me over as we waited in line for entrance at Boutique. He licked his lips lasciviously and wrapped an arm around my waist. I felt him pull at my shirt, and gathered he wanted to whisper something to me.
“Relax, sweetheart. You look beautiful. But you’re too uptight.” He kissed my earlobe and pulled back.
I nodded in agreement. He was right. I did need to relax. I was still keyed up from work and that wouldn’t do. When we were finally granted entrance into the insanely crowded dance club, I felt a surge of adrenaline as a thumping techno beat pulsed through my body.
I kissed Aaron’s cheek and pointed to the main dance floor where a disco ball slowly turned, bathing the scantily clad handsome young men in a rainbow prism. He nodded and pointed to the bar, gesturing that he would join me after he ordered a cocktail.
Some nights the crush of sweaty skin against my own made me cringe a bit. Especially when I was sober and there was no sexual act involved. Tonight it was intoxicating and seemed to herald possibility. I wasn’t looking for a hookup. However, I wouldn’t be against dancing real close with a hot, sexy man. In fact, that was absolutely what I wanted.
Aaron and I danced for hours. Sometimes we danced together, putting on a sexy show for the other boys on the floor, and other times we paired up with nearby partners.
I looked over at one point to see Aaron practically being mauled by a buff, tattooed muscleman who was struggling to get his hands in Aaron’s pants. The tight denim wasn’t allowing him access, and I noticed the groping was getting a little more insistent and rough. I knew Aaron well enough to know when he was enjoying an admiring dance partner. He wasn’t fighting this guy off exactly, but he also didn’t seem to be participating much. Something was wrong. Time to intervene.
I made my way over to my friend and set my hand on his neck, pulling his attention directly toward me. I saw that his dance partner had gotten a little further in his quest for skin than I’d thought. Aaron’s jeans were unzipped in the front, and I could tell his privates were certainly feeling the cool of the air-conditioned dance club. I swatted his assailant’s hands away and pulled Aaron’s body close to mine.
“Zip up now. We’re going outside for some fresh air. Don’t say one word! You hear?”
I know my voice was quavering with anger. How dare that prick take advantage? And what the hell was wrong with Aaron? It wasn’t like him not to defend himself. This guy was not his type. Once again I had a strong feeling something was up. I turned toward the muscleman. He didn’t have a hope of escaping my wrath in the tight confines of the crowd.
“Stay the fuck away from him. I see you anywhere near him and I will knock that smug shit-eatin’ grin right off your ugly face.”
The guy was probably six feet tall and outweighed Aaron by a good sixty pounds. I may not have possessed his musculature, but I was definitely taller than him and knew how to use my height to my advantage. He looked like he was going to protest, but he must have seen something in my expression that made him reconsider.
He held his hands up in mock surrender and flipped me the bird. It took everything I had not to make good on my threat and go after him, but Aaron needed tending to. I made sure he was decent before I pulled him with me toward the side exit and into the cool spring evening. It was misty and wet outside, a stark and welcoming contrast to the close confines of the packed club.
“Are you okay?”
I was more than a little concerned about my friend. As far as I knew, he’d only had a couple drinks. That was nowhere near enough to incapacitate him. He looked positively loopy. I felt a sudden horrible chill as I realized there was a strong possibility that someone, possibly the muscleman who was literally undressing him on the dance floor, had slipped something into his drink.
Oh fuck. I swiped my hands through my hair, forgetting about the copious amounts of gel I’d applied earlier. What was I supposed to do? Take him to the hospital? Take him home? I eyed him carefully. Aaron’s pupils were dilated, and he was unsteady on his feet.
“Aaron?”
He looked up at me quizzically, opened his mouth as if to speak, but closed it in a fish-like manner and just shrugged. He blinked his eyes rapidly and then closed them dramatically as if all energy had simply left him. He walked the short distance to the brick wall of the dance club and leaned heavily as though he desperately needed its assistance to stand upright.
I looked up and down the alleyway. There were a few stragglers passing by, but all the action was on the main street a good fifty yards away. The side exit door reopened, and I looked up hoping to find a friendly face, but it was the muscle-bound dickhead who was surely responsible for Aaron’s current condition, making his way down the short set of stairs. He stopped short when he saw us and smiled menacingly.
Oh shit. I hadn’t been in a situation like this in quite a while. I didn’t want to get into anything, but I would respond if necessary. I had three older brothers and had learned how to fight early. A fresh wave of adrenaline pulsed through my veins as my muscles tensed in preparation to spring, my hands curling into tight fists. I kept my eyes on him as he stalked toward me.
He gave me an evil grin, then roughly brushed my elbow and made his way around me toward where Aaron leaned heavily against the brick wall.
“There you are, sweet boy. Come back and play with me.”
Aaron looked up and smiled wanly before closing his eyes again and leaning his head back against the bricks.
“What did you give him, you fucker?” I rounded on the muscleman and pulled at his thick tattooed arm forcing him to look my way.
He growled at me in warning like a feral dog and then set his hands on the brick wall, trapping Aaron’s head between his arms.
“Come on, pretty boy. Come dance with me.” His voice was low and husky. Aaron’s eyes fluttered open as though he was trying to focus, but he was too out of it. He closed them and sighed deeply.
“Get away from him!”
I was screaming like a banshee, and some passersby from the main street were beginning to notice the racket. I saw a large figure approaching in my peripheral vision, but I had to keep my eyes on Aaron’s creepy seducer. This guy wasn’t going to be easy to take down. I was taller, but he definitely had brawn on his side.
“Fuck off. This one’s mine.”
“No he is not! Get the fuck away from him!”
“And who’s gonna make me?” He turned, giving me a sinister look.
“I am,” came a familiar voice behind me. “Back up, buddy. You heard him.”
“What are you…?”
Peter Morgan gave me a look that clearly told me to shut the fuck up. Surprise didn’t begin to cover how I felt seeing him standing in the misty alley, his large silhouette resplendent in the lamplight. He looked like a superhero minus the cape. What the hell was he doing in this part of town? How did he…? Questions would have to wait. I wasn’t turning down any assistance just then, even his. I kept my eye on Aaron, figuring I could concentrate on him if I had Peter’s help with the muscleman.
“Jay? I don’t feel so good.” Aaron’s voice sounded weak. He was inching his way down the brick wall into a crouching position. Muscleman backed away from Aaron, dually distracted by Peter’s sudden presence and Aaron’s proclamation. I would guess he was reconsidering whether what he thought was an easy lay was worth all the trouble it was turning out to be.
“Whatever, man. He’s all yours.”
“What did you give him?” I demanded. Now that I could focus on Aaron, I needed to know what he’d taken.
“Nothin’.” He gave me a smirk that doubled as a “fuck you” before stuffing his hands in his pockets and disappearing inside the club.
“Why you fucking…!” I jumped up and bounded toward the side door only to be stopped by a 210-pound wall of man. Peter gripped my arm firmly and pulled me back down the steps. I flashed him an angry look, and he held up a hand to stop my speech.
“Save it, Reynolds,” Peter said sharply. He looked at the side exit questioningly. “Where the hell is the bouncer? There should be someone out here.” There was no one but us in the deserted alley. He turned back to me. “Your friend needs you. You aren’t going to get anything out of that moron anyway.”
Aaron was now fully seated on the cold, damp ground, which had to be decidedly uncomfortable in his tight jeans. I nodded in frustrated agreement and went to Aaron’s side.
“Hey, honey. You okay?”
Aaron blinked up at me and offered a wavering smile before closing his eyes again.
“Aaron, please…,” I begged. My voice had taken on a panicky pitch. Shit. I was scared. I had no idea what to do.
“Did he have too much to drink? Drugs? He looks pretty out of it.”
“I don’t think he had that much to drink, and he doesn’t do drugs. Damn! I was wondering if maybe that fucker slipped something in his drink.” I pushed my fingers through my hair again in agitation. “I just don’t know. How can you tell?”
“Let’s get him out of this alley to start.” I studied Peter’s strong, handsome profile in the shadow as he looked over Aaron. He held his wrist in a firm grip, seeming lost in thought for a moment. “His pulse is strong. Do you need help? A ride or something?”
I looked down at my passed-out friend. Yes, I definitely needed assistance. Aaron wasn’t a big guy, but we had come by taxi. At the very least, we needed a ride. It was pretty un-fucking-believable that I was going to have to lean on Peter Morgan for any of this. Aaron was lucky he was passed out. He would certainly be hearing about this colossal mess when he came to.
“Well? Do you want to call someone else? I’m getting the idea that I’m not your favorite guy, but I’m here and I’m willing. Up to you, Reynolds.”
“My name is Jay,” I reminded him weakly. I saw a flash of humor light his dark eyes. I sighed. “Yes. I do need your help.” I explained about how we’d taken a taxi and was going into detail about how I’d picked Aaron up, when Peter once again held up his hand to halt my speech.
“Tell me all about it later. My car is close by. I’ll get it and then come back to pick you two up, okay?” He waited for my nod of agreement before he stood. “Don’t go anywhere.”
“Ha-ha,” I deadpanned. I turned my attention to Aaron, trying to coax him awake, so I could at least get him on his feet. It was hopeless. His head fell heavily to the side. Then suddenly his eyes popped open with a start. He wrinkled his nose in distaste and swiped at his face.
“Take me home, Jay.” His voice was weak but sure. I had a feeling he had heard some of my conversation with Peter.
“We’re gonna have them take a look at you at the hospital, okay?”
“No. I just wanna go home. I’m okay. I just feel tired. I didn’t swallow it. I’m fine.”
“Swallow what?” I gave him a shake, but his eyes had drifted shut again.
Thankfully Peter arrived quickly. He backed his luxury SUV into the alley and then stepped out to open one of the passenger doors. With his help, I was able to get Aaron to stand, not steadily, but enough so that we could get him into the backseat of the small truck.
Once I was sure he was in safe, sound, and seat belted, I ran around to the other side and jumped in. Aaron immediately fell sideways into me; then Peter punched the gas and he swayed back toward the opposite door like a rag doll.
“Easy there, lead foot! You’ve got an unpredictable passenger back here. Surely you don’t want him losin’ his dinner on your fine leather seats!” Peter shot me an irritated stare in his rearview mirror, but listened pointedly as I explained Aaron’s wakeful state moments earlier and his request to be taken home.
“Hmph. Where to, then?”
“What?”
“Reynolds, are you hard of hearing? Where does your boyfriend live?” Peter sounded a touch exasperated. I needed to check my sarcasm and make an effort to be pleasant. He was going out of his way for us. I gave him directions to Aaron’s apartment, which was a short drive from the club.
“Aaron’s not my boyfriend. He’s my best friend.”
Peter caught my stare in his rearview mirror. It was the first time we’d made real eye contact during this ordeal. His eyes were hooded and difficult to read, but he had that manly stubble all over his chin that I found crazy hot. I tuned him back in when I saw his mouth move. I was so easily sidetracked around him.
“That’s right. I met your boyfriend last weekend. Justin, right?”
“Justin?”
“Don’t tell me it’s over already?” came his snarky reply. What the hell was he…? Oh yeah. Fuck. I’d forgotten about the previous weekend’s disaster while I was busy dealing with my current weekend’s disaster.
I didn’t want to get into it with him, so I rolled my eyes, making sure he saw before I checked on Aaron’s listless form beside me. Aaron stirred restlessly, giving me hope that he’d awaken sooner rather than later, but it was fleeting. I had a sinking feeling that my bad luck was holding when there were no available places to park on Aaron’s block. Peter gamely drove around the block, but clearly he would either have to drop us off or find a spot on the next street over.
“Oh shit. Look, just leave us here in front of the building. I’ll manage.” I’m sure my tone conveyed my doubt.
“Don’t be ridiculous. Your friend might be light, but he’s deadweight in his current condition. Are you going to drop him on the ground every time you need to open a door?”
“Sarcasm doesn’t suit you,” I replied primly.
Peter muttered something off-color under his breath in response as he stopped the SUV. He was double-parked but close to the main entrance of Aaron’s building.
“Well, thank….”
My driver jumped out of the parked but still running vehicle and had made his way to the curbside of the car in a flash. He took Aaron’s wrist in his hand to feel his pulse again before hoisting him out of the backseat. I scrambled after them, fumbling to put my phone away. We stared at each other for a moment in the misty darkness, Peter effortlessly holding Aaron while I tried to figure out how to proceed.
“Can you get into the building? If you open the main door, I’ll leave him with you while I find a place to park. Then I can come back and help you get him inside. No sense in you both getting wet waiting for me.”
I stared at him like an idiot. He was really going to keep helping me? I might have to change my mind about Morgan after tonight, I mused.
“Yeah. Um… I’ll check his pocket. He usually has his keys on him. We’ll wait inside for you. Are you sure you don’t mind?”
“I don’t mind. Get his keys out and get going. We’re all getting soaked now.”
Peter was right. The mist had turned into something more substantial. Not quite rain, but it was heavier than it had been earlier and my fabulous shirt was clinging to my skin in a less than sexy way. I stepped closer and stuck a finger in Aaron’s front left pocket. His jeans were practically painted on, but I could tell there was no key there. Peter clued in.
“Here. Let me hand him to you and I’ll see if I can get the key from his other pocket. Unless you think he keeps it in his back pocket?”
I gave him an incredulous look.
“Who would ever put a key in their back pocket when they were going out dancing?”
Peter obviously didn’t understand my meaning if his expression was any indication, so I decided to enlighten him.
“Really? You’re dancing with some hot guy or maybe girl if that’s your thing, and things get close, shall we say. Your dance partner gets a little familiar and sets his hands on your ass to pull you closer… only to get the imprint of your apartment door key. Buzzkill!”
Peter stared at me like he was looking at an alien. He shook his head slightly, shaking some of the moisture from his dark hair in the process.
“Okay, whatever you say. So do you want to hold your boyfr—” He caught himself when he saw that I was about to correct him. “Sorry, your buddy… while I see if I can get his key out? And, Reynolds?” He waited for me to nod in acknowledgment before he spoke again. “Hurry the fuck up.”
I held out my arms for Peter to hand over Aaron’s listless form. But I couldn’t resist having one last word.
“My name is Jay, for cryin’ out loud!”
Peter rolled his eyes while expertly managing to angle two fingers into Aaron’s right pocket. He pulled out a rainbow keychain with two keys attached. His eyes lit with satisfaction at his easy success.
“You must be good with your hands,” I snorted and then winced. What was wrong with me?
“That I am.” He winked before turning to walk up the path toward the large wrought iron front door, leaving me to follow him. I shut my mouth and adjusted the burden in my arms, wishing I had a free hand to adjust my package instead. Peter Morgan was a sexy beast. I might not like him, but I couldn’t deny the fact I found him attractive.
By the time I caught up with him, he had opened the door and was holding it wide for me to pass through. There was a very uncomfortable-looking iron bench just inside the door opposite the elevator. I walked over to it and set Aaron down before settling next to him, allowing him to lean against me.
“I’ll be back. I need to move my car.”
I nodded and looked down at Aaron.
“I can’t believe what you’ve gotten me into,” I admonished, expecting no response.
Aaron wiggled against me and sat up. He looked confused but alert.
“Hey. How are you feeling, honey?” I was so relieved to see him awake and sitting up, I didn’t catch the panic in his eyes at first.
“Not good. I’m going to be sick.” Aaron jumped up and pushed open the heavy front door. I could hear the unmistakable sound of sickness already in progress as I rushed after him.
I found Aaron bent over a bush a few feet away from the door. He was cloaked in near darkness, his body shaking in the cool, heavy mist of the now early morning hour. I went to his side and ran my hand over his back soothingly, muttering words of comfort. He turned to me and buried his face in my chest as he softly cried.
“Honey, it’s okay. It’ll be fine. Don’t worry.” Over and over again, I muttered the same calming words.
“Oh, Jay. Damn, that was awful!”
“Come on, let’s sit under the eave till Peter gets back. It’s too wet out here.”
“Who’s Peter?”
“My… never mind. Are you okay? What the hell happened?”
“I don’t really know. I was dancing and… you remember that guy with the muscles at the club?”
“Yeah, I remember.” I wanted to do serious harm to that prick.
“I don’t really know if it was him now, but I think he kissed me while we were dancing, and he had a tablet on his tongue that he was trying to pass to me. I thought maybe it was E, but I don’t take candy from strangers anyway. So I turned my head and spit it out while I danced. I don’t think he noticed, and I didn’t think anything would happen since I got rid of it quickly, but….”
He looked at me with tears in his eyes.
“Jay, if I hadn’t spit it out… if I ate that… what if you hadn’t been with me? What if…?”
“Shhh. I was and you’re going to be fine. Whatever that was must have been pretty damn strong, though.”
“I still don’t feel so good.”
We both stopped when we heard footsteps on the path coming toward us. Peter spotted us sitting on the stoop near the door. I had my arm wrapped protectively around Aaron, who was leaning on me heavily.
“Feeling better?” Peter’s shrewd gaze seemed to take in more than Aaron’s wakeful state. It was as though he were trying to gage our relationship based on our proximity… how close we sat together, how tightly I held him.
“Yeah.” Aaron looked in Peter’s direction. I doubt he was able to get a good look at him because he was mostly hidden in the shadows. “Who are you?”
“I’m P?—”
“He’s Peter Morgan. My boss,” I said meaningfully.
“Oohhh. So you’re the one who—” I pinched Aaron hard, willing him to shut the hell up. “Ouch!” Aaron swiveled in my tight hold and cast a stink-eyed glare at me.
“Yes, A, he’s the one who helped me get you home.” I willed Aaron to just say thanks so we could get him inside and say our good-byes to Peter.
“Um… thank you. I don’t remember much from the club, but thanks.”
“No problem. I overheard you telling Jay you think you may have been drugged. It would probably be a good idea for you to see a doctor to be on the safe side. I can give you a lift to the ER. What do you say?”
Peter stepped farther into the light of the streetlamp, his incredibly handsome face was now in full view. I heard Aaron’s small gasp and pinched him a second time. He could drool later. I wanted Peter to go home. I could take Aaron to the hospital myself, and Morgan could stop playing the Good goddamned Samaritan.
“I’ll take him.” My voice was sharper than I intended, and Peter gave me a perturbed look.
“I don’t want to go to the hospital. I’m fine. Or I will be. I just need to sleep. I’m really tired.” Aaron looked around as though he were finally taking in his surroundings. “Why are we outside? Let’s go upstairs. Come on. You can come too, Peter the Boss.”
I remained silent, but kept a close eye on Peter. He was clearly accustomed to making decisions and having his recommendations followed. He seemed to be weighing whether he should press a trip to the hospital or let it go.
“Fine. Let’s get you upstairs.” Peter held up Aaron’s key and stepped around us to reopen the wrought-iron-and-glass door of the building.
I helped Aaron up and followed Peter into the pale light of the foyer. He stopped at the elevator and pressed the button before turning back to survey us.
“I can take it from here. Thank you, Mr. Morgan.”
“You’re welcome, but I want to make sure you get upstairs all right.” Peter rubbed at the back of his neck absently, but spared me a glance, which said he figured I wouldn’t leave it alone. I didn’t.
“This isn’t a date, Mr. Morgan. I got this.”
Peter chuckled softly as he held the elevator door open with a mock flourish for Aaron and me. Aaron’s head swiveled comically between the two of us. I knew it had to kill him not to say anything. Peter stepped into the car after us, his eyebrows raised in amusement.
“Trust me, Mr. Reynolds. I know this isn’t a date.”
“What is that supposed to mean?”
“Just what I said. No hidden meaning. If we were, in fact on a date, we wouldn’t be a threesome, and we wouldn’t?—”
“Be men.” I finished for him. “Got it.”
“I didn’t say that, did I?”
“You didn’t have to,” I countered.
Aaron cleared his throat just as the elevator door opened to the fifth floor. We walked single file down the narrow, dim hallway, following Aaron to apartment 5E. Peter silently handed him his keys, and we watched Aaron fiddle with the lock for about twenty seconds before I finally grabbed it back and opened the door myself. Aaron rolled his eyes at me, but he was obviously exhausted and probably thankful for the intervention.
I turned on the entry light and ran over to adjust the thermostat. “Damn, Aaron. It’s freezing in here!”
Aaron nodded sleepily and made his way to his bedroom, peeling off his shirt and working on the belt of his jeans as he moved in a trance-like state. I was about to go after him but thought I should probably deal with our third party. He was on his cell phone, speaking low. Girlfriend, I assumed until I heard him asking for advice about Aaron’s condition. Well maybe his girlfriend was a nurse or a doctor.
“Yeah, okay, Maggs. You too. Bye.” He ended his call and sighed.
“Girlfriend? What’s her deal? Has she been roofied before too?” I hated the tone of my voice. I sounded jealous, which was as far from truth as possible. This time, Peter looked a little annoyed too. Fine by me.
“No, smartass. That was my sister, Maggie. She’s a resident at Emory University Hospital. I thought she might have some words of wisdom about your friend’s situation.”
Oh. Oops.
“Oh. Well, what did she suggest?”
“Sleep and fluids. She said if he’d already been sick and was alert, he probably had avoided the full effect of being drugged. Hospital would still be a good idea, but she agreed that other than observing him, there wasn’t much more they could do for him. So… that means you’ll have to observe him, Reynolds. Are you up for that?”
“I’ll be fine.” The look he gave me was dubious at best. “Really. We’ve taken too much of your evening as it is. Aaron’s going to be okay, and I’ll be the best Florence Nightingale I can possibly be.”
“Lucky him.” Sarcastic bastard. I could tell he was frustrated with me but he didn’t push any further. He walked toward the door and looked me over as he turned the handle. “You’re a good friend. I’m sure he’s in capable hands. Good night.”
I stared after him, wondering what to make of this strange evening and Peter Morgan having anything to do with it.
Aaron slept fitfully, finally awakening at nine the next morning. He found me in his living room, cuddled under a throw blanket, reading celebrity trash magazines. I had long since abandoned trying to sleep. After waking Aaron to check his pulse every couple of hours and generally make sure he was alive, I knew there was little to no chance I’d get any rest myself. I was too keyed up, and I wanted my own bed.
“Coffee?” he asked hopefully.
“I don’t know how to work your machine. Make it for us, honey. You look 110 percent better. How are you feeling?” I unfolded my long legs out from under me and got up to join him in the kitchen.
“How do you not know how to make coffee, Jay? It’s like getting a driver’s license. Surely, everyone should have that basic skill?” Aaron shook his sleep-mussed hair in despair.
“I know how to make?—”
“No. You don’t. Don’t lie. But to answer your question… I’m fine.” I raised my eyebrows. “Really. I don’t even have a headache. In fact, after I make us coffee and a bite to eat, I’m going for a run. Want to come with me?”
“Hell no! I’m glad you’re feeling better. In fact, I am very, very relieved to hear that, however… I am so damn tired. I can’t even begin to think about exercise. Maybe later. Thank God it’s Sunday, is all I have to say. I’ll need all day to recover from last night!”
“Oh the drama!” Aaron turned back to face me once he was satisfied that the coffee machine was working its magic.
“I know. Awful.” We stared at each other across the tiny galley kitchen. “Aar, I was really scared.”
“I know. Me too.”
Aaron launched his small, lithe body at me, wrapping his arms around my neck. I held him close to me, breathing in his scent. He hadn’t taken a shower yet this morning, and even though last night had been rough, Aaron still smelled good. And alive.
“I can’t lose you, A. Please be more careful,” I whispered.
“I was careful,” he insisted, pulling out of my embrace. “We need to talk to the manager of that club and warn them. I can’t prove anything, but maybe they can keep an eye on that muscleman. And other assholes like him. Oh my gosh, Jay, think about what could have happened to some naive twink looking for a good time! We need to do something!”
“You’re right. I’ll call the club today. After I take a nap.”
Aaron turned back to grab two mugs. He gestured for me to go back toward his sofa to sit. I obeyed him and offered my half of the throw to cover his legs while we shared our coffee.
“So….” Aaron began, his expressive hazel eyes twinkling at me.
“So what?”
“Jay, stop stalling and tell me about your super hunky boss! You did not mention how delicious he was!”
“Actually I did, but that quickly faded when I was forced to correct my paragraph structuring for the umpteenth time. Then he didn’t seem quite so attractive anymore.”
“Hmm. Well, he looked mighty fine to me last night! And actually….”
I looked over at my friend expectantly when he didn’t finish his sentence right away.
“What?”
“I sense he may have a crush on you, Jaybird.” Aaron singsonged.
I smacked his leg playfully and rolled my eyes.
“Well, your senses are off. Not surprising after last night, but I’m sure you’ll be back to normal in no time.”
Aaron smacked me back.
“I know these things. Hunky boss man has the hots for you.”
“Aaron, he’s straight. And I think he has a girlfriend. So you, my friend, don’t know shit.”
“I have excellent gaydar. I kinda wish there was a test with a monetary reward. I’d be a millionaire! So why don’t you believe me? Peter… that’s his name, right?” He paused for breath to get my confirmation before he continued. “Well, Peter is gay or at least bi, and methinks he likes you.”
“Methinks? Thanks, Shakespeare. I’m sorry, but I disagree with you on all points. He isn’t gay and he doesn’t have a crush on little ole me. Leave it.”
Aaron stopped midbreath before shrugging good-naturedly and taking a sip from his mug.
“Whatever you say. I still need to thank him. He was really nice to help us like he did.”
I nodded in agreement.
“I promise I won’t keep bringing this up after I say just one more thing….”
“Okay. What do you have to say?” I rolled my eyes, knowing where my friend was heading. Aaron loved pretty things, and there was no way he was done discussing the hotness of my boss.
“Have you wondered what your supposedly straight Peter was doing in our gayborhood in the wee hours of the morning?” He waggled his eyebrows comically, making me giggle. “I mean, c’mon, Jay. You have to at least ask. Saturday night in the Circle is for the gays, and since he’s not new to the city, what else would he be doing if he wasn’t looking for a hookup?”
“I don’t know, and believe me, I wondered the same thing.”
Somehow I survived the rest of the weekend. I placed a call Sunday afternoon to Boutique and left a message for the manager to call me. I agreed with Aaron that nothing could be proved, but it seemed irresponsible to say nothing. Not everyone was wise to the ways of horny bastards. I couldn’t stop thinking about how something much worse could have happened. I decided to place a call to the local police department as well. Better safe than sorry.
I also couldn’t stop thinking about Peter. But now, it wasn’t about how much I hated him or anything to do with work at all. He had been a godsend Saturday night… unfailingly generous with his time and patience. I felt myself revising my perception of him. After all he did for Aaron and me he surely couldn’t be that bad.
When I went to the gym on Sunday afternoon, I wondered if I’d see him out and about. It’s like when you’re a kid and you see your teacher at the grocery store one day, and you think, “What are they doing out of school?” The same thing happens sometimes when you are older. At least it did to me. My personal life and professional life had crossed Saturday night in a most peculiar way, and I felt unsettled by my encounter with Peter.
By Monday, I was almost nervous about running into him at the office. Since we were no longer working closely on a project, the odds of me seeing him were slim. He tended to travel and interface with the clients more than my position allowed. But I couldn’t deny that I had butterflies.
Would it be totally embarrassing when we saw each other next, or would he pretend it never happened? And all of my worrying begged the question: Why did I care? Number one, I was fairly sure he was straight in spite of what Aaron thought. And number two, he was a coworker. It was highly inappropriate of me to think of him at all. All indications were that my crush was back.
Damn it! Hating him wasn’t good, but neither was having a crush on him. I needed to find my way to a neutral state so I wouldn’t feel so much angst around him.