Chapter 16
Chapter
Sixteen
February
Trav
Elkington storms through the restaurant, dragging someone with him. Is that…? Fucking Christ. He’s got Edward Ardovini in his clutches. Edward’s looking around like he’s … embarrassed, maybe? But he’s also got darkness in his eyes and body language that says he wants to light Elkington on fire.
I’m all for that.
“Keys, Nolan. I need the keys to your apartment,” Maxwell demands.
The man hasn’t been here since the time he threatened me into friendship.
It’s been a month. Yes, I get a constant stream of texts from him, but he must have noticed that I only reciprocate and never instigate.
He can’t possibly have concluded that we’re buddy-buddy enough to borrow my damn apartment for a hookup.
This has got to be a hookup, right? Are they back on? Eddie’s been AWOL from the hockey league and the media.
“No.”
“You’d deny us sanctuary?”
He’s really pulling that card? It’s something I’d do for one of my biker brothers, offer no-questions-asked protection. Still, that little niggle that reminds me of our similarities, the same one that’s inspired any interest in him at all, pauses.
“Are you in trouble?”
“Not yet, but if we can’t use your apartment, we will be.”
“Not good enough, Maxwell. No.”
He glares, but looks around, undeterred. “Fine.”
For one sweet moment, I think he’ll leave. He doesn’t. Instead, he drags Eddie with him to the broom closet near the bar, confirming my suspicions. There’s only one thing you do in there. I know because I’ve done a lot of things to Dirk in that same closet.
Fuck. Why my restaurant?
Instinctively, I watch the door, waiting for the trouble to follow in after Maxwell.
It doesn’t. I spend five minutes wrestling with the should I and shouldn’t I’s of dragging them out of there, but inevitably decide on letting them do their thing.
Because this time, Maxwell’s not leaving without telling me what I wanna know.
The first thing I want to do once I’ve made my decision? Call Dirk. I can’t because he’s on the road, but I think he’s either landed or will be landing soon. I settle on a text.
Me
Guess who’s in my fucking broom closet? They’re doing exactly what you think they’re doing.
It’s a few minutes before I get a response.
Pretty Boy
Maxwell and ??? Can’t be Eddie. OMG, is it Eddie?
Me
Yep.
Pretty Boy
Get information.
I love that we think the same.
Me
On it, pretty boy.
Pretty Boy
Of course you are. Just landed in Calgary. I’ll text you when I get to the hotel. Need updates on this.
I send him a lone heart because I know how much it entertains him when I use emojis.
Twenty minutes later, Eddie emerges first. He definitely wants to stab someone.
Maxwell trails behind, victory bleeding off him in satisfied waves.
He’s not even fully put together. His shirt’s open, belt still undone.
And he’s the kind of guy who can pull it off, too.
What it must have been like to live a life being that good-looking.
I look my age, but he doesn’t look a day over thirty.
Must be all his rich-people facial treatments.
Or maybe he drinks the blood of children like a fucking witch. I don’t know.
Though, maybe one of those treatments wouldn’t go amiss for me now that I have a younger man. Dirk said he likes my lines, but that means I have lines. Fuck. No. Wrong kind of thinking. I’m not asking Elkington for beauty tips.
Eddie’s stunning, too. I can see why Maxwell lusts after him.
He’s got that no fucks to give Italian look to him, a deep olive complexion, and the biggest fucking brown eyes.
Bet Maxwell loves Eddie’s feistiness as much as he wants to tame it.
Eddie can command a room; I’ve seen him in press conferences.
Having a guy like Eddie under him would give a guy like Maxwell the ultimate thrill.
Maxwell stares after Eddie like he’s conquered Everest, and Eddie hastily throws his jacket over himself. No wait, that’s gotta be Elkington’s jacket. Eddie wasn’t wearing one.
“Did that clear things up for you, baby?” Maxwell says without shame or apology.
“I hope you burn in hell, Maxwell.”
“Not what you said a minute ago. Do I need to teach you another lesson?”
Eddie bites his lip like maybe he wants another lesson. He shakes his head in a meek way I wouldn’t have expected from him. “No.”
“Good, then kiss me goodbye, and you may go. I have business with The Nolan,” he says as if we have an appointment he’s keeping.
I cross my arms but keep quiet because I want to judge for myself if Eddie’s into whatever the fuck’s going on with Maxwell or if he’s being coerced in some way.
Eddie freezes as a war rages in his mind, playing out over his face.
Interesting. Maybe it’s more a case of he wishes he wasn’t as into Maxwell as he is.
Finally, he takes a step toward Elkington.
Elkington’s big hand reaches out, clasping Eddie by the collar of his shirt, dragging him back.
Maxwell does the ninety-ten thing. He goes in ninety percent but leaves Eddie to make the last ten percent journey to his lips.
Eddie does. It’s timid at first, but the utter craving is clear. It might be a craving that sickens him, but it’s a craving, nonetheless.
Once Elkington releases Eddie, he sends him off with a smack to his ass. A red-faced Eddie storms out.
“Isn’t he the most beautiful thing you’ve ever seen?” Maxwell says, staring after his retreating form. “Or no, wait. Your beauty is the Boulder boy.”
I freeze. It’s not the first time the man’s made my blood run cold, but you’d think I’d be used to it.
Maxwell buckles his belt—finally—but leaves his shirt undone. He sits at the bar, my bar, as if it’s his own. “I’ll have my usual, bestie,” he says.
“You’re not my bestie, Elkington,” I tell him in no uncertain terms, but I pour him his drink. I pour one for me, too.
“I only have time for the one today, got a bit carried away in there,” he says, his tone happier than I’ve ever heard it.
“So, let’s skip the part where you deny your relationship with Dirk.
I had your phone hacked. Some of the stuff you say to your pretty boy is fucking filthy.
Enough to inspire even the likes of me, so thanks for that. ”
His words are calculated, so I’ll know he’s not lying. No one knows I call Dirk that, but now he does.
“I’m gonna fucking kill you, Elkington,” I hiss.
He’s unbothered, sipping his drink with the confidence of a man who owns the world. “You won’t. I’m sure you’re angry, having your privacy violated, but I needed to know about you if we’re going to be friends.”
“I don’t want this friendship.”
“Maybe not now, but you will.” He downs his drink, holding the glass out for more.
“Thought you only had time for one?”
“What can I say, my man makes me thirsty.”
I pour him another one because I’m currently at a disadvantage. I won’t be for long, but it doesn’t change the fact that I underestimated his obsession with me. He’s clearly not interested in me romantically—all of that energy goes to poor Eddie—but he is interested.
“We’re going to be the best of friends. Even our sexual proclivities are the same—judging by some of those text messages.” He winks.
“Dirk is a consenting adult.” I shouldn’t defend myself to this asshole, but he’s hit upon one of my biggest insecurities, and it just comes out.
“So is Eddie. At least Eddie’s closer in age. Dirk’s a bit young in my opinion, but to each their own.”
I growl. But fuck, getting under my skin is exactly what he’s trying to do. It’s working.
“We’re not the same.”
“But we are. Just because you ride a moral high horse these days, doesn’t erase the darkness that lives in you.”
I’m itching to spout back with all the good I’ve done in defense, but I’m well aware of how many charities Maxwell donates to.
Millions of dollars to Children’s Hospital from his own pocket.
Millions to women’s shelters. He’s even done a decent job with the city since he’s been mayor.
He could list a good deed for every one I’ve done.
But then he does shit like hack into my phone and use it against me.
“Everyone hates your fucking bike lanes,” I tell him because it’s all I’ve got right now. It should be easy to point out Maxwell’s flaws, why am I struggling with this?
“Not the bikers,” he says. “And they’re good for the environment. I’ve reduced the carbon footprint of our city, proven in several research studies.”
Yeah, probably funded by him.
“You’re a cyclist. You wanted the bike lanes for yourself.”
“I wanted them, sure, but they’re a win-win. What’s wrong with indulging myself with something that’s good for everyone?”
I take a breath. “Okay, fine. You have information on me and Dirk, are you here to expose us?”
“What? I’d never do that to my best friend. I support your unconventional relationship, even though so many others wouldn’t.”
Everything he says has an underlying threat. I rub my hand over my face. Maybe I’ll try speaking the man’s language. “You just had sex in my broom closet, you’re welcome. Now tell me the information you have about Robin.”
He snaps his fingers. “Right, the business I was here for. You’re gonna love this.”
Maxwell is insufferable. I wish I could strangle him. Instead, I breathe through all the feelings of murder coursing through me.
“I found out that Robin’s being released early.”
My heart pounds. For several long moments, the world goes that eerie sort of silent I’d imagine the end of the world to sound like. Did I hear him correctly? “How’s that possible?”
“Good behavior. Happens all the time.”
“When?”
“August.”
“Of this year?” He nods. “I was supposed to get a letter about it.” I have a friend in the DA’s office. Now that Dash is no longer under conservatorship, the letter would go to him, but I pulled a favor and asked that he send it to me.
“You will, but there’s a bunch of paperwork, and our judicial system is horribly backlogged. But see? I’m your personal information delivery. It pays to know an Elkington. I’ve got someone watching the situation for you.”
Paying to know an Elkington remains to be seen, but that piece of information is the equivalent of gold to me. I’m grateful for it, no matter what Elkington thinks he’s getting in return.
“Thank you, Maxwell.”
He swallows more alcohol. Uncomfortably. My genuine thanks makes him squirm. “Well, whatever. You’d do the same for me, bestie.”
Would I? Fuck. Yeah, but not for him, for his kids. “You need to stop calling me bestie.”
“Too soon?”
“Way too fucking soon.”
“Alright. I need to go. Lots of Mayor shit to do and all that.”
Mayor shit? I’m glad I didn’t vote for him. Is being mayor a game to him?
Maxwell saunters out the door like the king he thinks he is, and I’m left to contemplate what the fuck I’m gonna do about Robin. Maxwell was right about one thing: I’d do anything for the people I love. If Robin’s getting out of prison, I might have to do something about it.
My phone buzzes.
Pretty Boy
So? What the fuck did that weasel want?
Maybe my age, but this feels like a phone call instead of a text message. Except for one thing.
Me
First, he did things to Eddie I don’t even wanna know in my broom closet.
Pretty Boy
In our broom closet, Trav? I’ll kill him.
Me
Don’t worry, killer. You firmly belong in my bed now. No more broom closet for us.
Although I’m gonna kinda miss those days. I loved pulling him into secret places and defiling him.
Pretty Boy
I love belonging in your bed.
Christmas was two months ago; it’s been way too long.
Me
There’s one more thing. Can I tell you over the phone?
Pretty Boy
Yeah, babe. Might be hard to get a phone call in until we’re back in Kelowna. Can it wait?
They’ll be there in three days. Maybe I’ll even see if I can prolong telling him until we’re together again. It’ll give me time to process this clusterfuck.
Me
Yeah. It can wait.