Chapter 11
Holden
After Bryce left, Holden went to work. He tried to ignore Merrick, as usual, but his co-worker made it nearly impossible. No wonder Bryce was so happy being forced into silence. It had to be a better option than trying to keep up with Merrick’s never-ending stream of chatter.
“My brother is out looking for a job today,” Merrick said at some point, which unfortunately caught Holden’s attention.
He glanced up from the rose he was tattooing on the inside of someone’s wrist, but offered no verbal encouragement for Merrick to continue.
Of course, he did anyway. “I think it means he wants to stay.”
“Was that not the point?”
“I hoped he’d want to stay, but I can never assume.”
Holden hummed and wiped the excess ink off his client’s arm.
“I think he’s already met someone,” Merrick went on, and Holden stared hard at the lines of the rose tattoo before dipping into some ink to finish the shading on the smallest petal.
“He didn’t come home last night.”
“Good for him.”
Merrick made a dismissive sound. “It’s not a shock. Bryce has always been…”
“A ladies’ man?” Holden supplied.
“A slut,” Merrick finished.
Holden rolled his stool back and frowned at Merrick. He wanted to call out the comment, but he couldn’t without drawing attention to himself…or to Bryce.
“I think he uses his body as a way to get attention,” Merrick went on, but Holden had already had enough.
“I don’t think this is appropriate conversation for work,” he said.
Merrick laughed, unbothered. “This is a shop.”
“Well, have the conversation with yourself then.”
He’d already said too much, and he felt the weight of Merrick’s stare on him as he set to finishing the walk-in tattoo.
It didn’t take much more than five minutes to get through the last of the shading and the highlighting.
He cleaned all the blood and ink residue before wrapping his client’s wrist with plastic wrap and medical tape.
Merrick grumbled under his breath about Saniderm again, and Holden ignored him entirely.
After getting his client set up with aftercare instructions and taking their cash—always appreciated—he went to clean up his station, keeping his back to Merrick for as much of the process as he could manage.
Ink and Ember was a small shop, and he and Merrick were the first artists hired to work for the owner, Riggs.
There was room for one other artist, but Riggs had been holding off on filling the rental, probably because he hadn’t even wanted to hire Merrick and Holden in the first place.
Holden was grateful for the opportunity.
The shop was close to home and Riggs was a fair boss.
The only downfall of the place was Merrick and his mouth, but Merrick had brought Holden Bryce so it couldn’t really be all that bad.
He hated that he thought of Bryce as a good addition to his life.
He didn’t even know the other man. They’d spent more time fucking than they’d spent talking, and maybe that had been by design.
Bryce could keep up with Merrick but didn’t want to.
Holden didn’t make him, so there was appeal for Bryce when he looked at him.
Even if what Merrick said was true, even if Bryce had a promiscuous past, none of that mattered to Holden.
He’d gotten tested, they were safe together, and they were having fun.
It was more than fun, though. Holden knew that already.
He liked the way Bryce looked with a mouthful of cock, and he liked waking up with his dick still in Bryce’s ass. Those were the kinds of things he could get used to, even if he didn’t trust them to stay. Whatever he had going on with Bryce could be a for-now thing, and that would be fine.
Even if his heart argued with him about it.
Thankfully, the rose was his last tattoo of the day and he didn’t need to sit through any more forced conversation with Merrick about his brother.
Holden finished cleaning his station and checked his phone for a message from Bryce.
There wasn’t one, which was somehow surprising and not.
He wondered if Bryce was as spooked by their time together as he was.
Holden needed to clear his head, to make sure he wasn’t reading too much into nothing.
He had a tendency to do that, at least he did when he was younger.
Holden had always gone all in on things, love and art included.
So after saying goodbye to Merrick and Riggs, he locked himself in his car and called the one person he knew could talk sense into him.
“Baby brother,” his sister greeted, flashing him a smile as her face filled his screen.
Hannah was the spitting image of their mother with her long dark hair and equally bright blue eyes.
They were features Holden shared, even if he preferred to bleach his hair or color it differently.
Hannah had their mother’s smile and nose where Holden’s facial features were more aligned with their father, but there was no missing the family resemblance when any of them were together.
“Hey, Hannah.”
“You look distressed.” The image of his sister jostled as she set her phone down and made work of preparing to talk to him in the way she always did when she thought he needed help. “Are things not working out at the shop?”
“The shop is fine,” he promised.
“Even with the talker?”
Holden pushed his hair out of his face and dropped his head against the headrest with a groan. “Merrick is Merrick,” he said simply. “Did you know he has a brother?”
“I didn’t know that because you never told me.”
“He has a brother.”
“In LA?” she asked.
He nodded. “He just got here a couple days ago from St. Jack’s Bay.”
Hannah’s eyebrow lifted slightly.
“His name is Bryce,” Holden went on, and his sister’s smile brightened.
“I bet it is. Tell me more.”
“There’s not much more to say.”
“You like him,” she stated.
“I don’t know him.”
“But what you do know.”
Holden bit the inside of his cheek and glared at his sister. She knew him too well, but that was what he wanted. That was why he’d called her. He needed someone to talk him off the ledge about Bryce and who better to do that than his meddling, therapist sister.
“I like how I feel when he’s around,” Holden admitted.
“So he doesn’t talk as much as Merrick?”
He shook his head, then nodded. “The two of them together are a lot, but when it’s just him…”
Holden trailed off, flashing back to the grateful tears that slicked from the corners of Bryce’s eyes when he had no choice except to shut up. The peaceful quiet between them, punctuated only by the sound of skin against skin and Bryce’s desperate breaths.
“Oh, you love him,” Hannah said, which was enough to snap Holden out of his memories.
“No.”
“I know that look,” she said.
“I don’t know him.”
“You’ve never needed to.” Hannah tilted her head to the side, eyes sparkling. “You’ve always fallen in love with ideas first.”
“It’s never gotten me anywhere good.”
“It’s gotten you here,” she reminded him. “To this point. To these moments.”
“Yeah,” he reluctantly conceded.
“What does Donovan think?”
Holden scoffed. “I’ve barely talked to him since he moved to San Diego. He’s been busy with whatever he has going on down there.”
“Do you not have anyone else you can talk to?”
The implication was clear, even if she didn’t mean any harm by it.
Holden had a habit of putting all his eggs in one basket.
All his energy into one friend or one partner and when those relationships fell away, he found himself alone again.
It was another reason he’d grown so used to the quiet in his life.
He regarded it more as a companion than a threat.
“Making friends as an adult is stupid,” he told her.
Hannah laughed. “Yeah, but you should try it sometime.”
As soon as the words left her mouth, a text from Bryce flashed across his screen. His sister must have seen the excitement on his face, because she leaned back and laughed at him as he swiped to read it.
Bryce
Might have found a job.
Have you ever heard of a club called Rapture?
No, but that’s good.
I just finished talking to the owners. Do you want to come meet me for a drink? If you’re off work.
He’d finished work and his only plans had involved going home and trying to pretend he wasn’t waiting to hear from Bryce.
Me: Sure. Send me the address.
“Do you need to go?” Hannah asked him.
“He wants me to meet him for a drink at a bar he might be getting a job at.”
“That’s sweet.” Her smile fell away and her expression turned serious. “There’s nothing wrong with the way you love people, Holden.”
“I know,” he agreed, even if he didn’t believe it entirely.
“Say it.”
“There’s nothing wrong with the way I love people.”
“Will you call me tomorrow? Let me know how it goes?” she asked.
“I’ll text.”
“I’ll take it.” Her smile was back and she picked up her phone. “I love you. And I’m lucky to be loved by you.”
“Love you too, Hannah.”
He hung up the phone before she could, the screen flashing with a text from Bryce that had a dropped pin location for him to follow.
The bar wasn’t in Silverlake or anywhere near it, which was not ideal, but getting to Pasadena so late at night shouldn’t be too hard.
He hoped the place wasn’t fancy because he was dressed for work in sneakers and jeans and a t-shirt that probably had ink stains on it somewhere.
Holden made it to Pasadena and double-checked the location Bryce had sent him because he’d ended up in a dirt parking lot behind a massive church. He sent Bryce a text to confirm.
Not sure I’m in the right place
Bryce answered quickly, like he’d been holding his phone.
lol you are. I’ll meet you outside.
Holden turned off his car and headed for the steps, his breath hitching a little when the massive wooden doors swung open and Bryce’s silhouette appeared.
“Pretty cool, huh?” Bryce asked, stretching his hand out for Holden.
He was too caught off-guard to do anything besides slide his palm against Bryce’s and let the other man haul him up the rest of the stairs.
“I found this place entirely on accident,” Bryce started yammering immediately, and Holden had to admit he found it briefly endearing. “I was looking for something else and it turns out they were looking for a new bartender, and I thought two birds, one stone, right?
“What were you looking for?”
In lieu of an answer, Holden let Bryce pull him into the entry of the church, which had been repurposed as a coat check and security desk. He had to give his ID and sign a release form, which felt very serious for a bar, but Bryce still hadn’t answered the question.
Once they were through the second set of doors, Holden tripped over his own feet.
They were definitely in a church, or what used to be a church.
At some point, it had been converted into a club and bar.
There was a staircase that hugged the front wall and what looked like the old choir loft upstairs.
“What kind of club is this?” he asked.
Bryce dragged him to the bar against the back wall.
“Callum, this is Holden. Holden, this is Callum. He’s one of the bartenders here.”
“Nice to meet you,” Holden said automatically.
Callum had a nice-looking face, kind eyes, and a band around his left ring finger. “Maybe we’ll be seeing more of you if Bryce gets hired.”
“Probably,” Bryce agreed, and Holden swallowed hard.
Maybe he wasn’t the only person who’d accidentally gone all in on his feelings with a complete stranger.
“Do you want a beer?” Bryce asked.
He managed a nod and Callum served them both a basic lager in a brown bottle and left them alone. It was early and the club was fairly empty, but judging by the space, the weekends were probably pretty busy.
“How was your interview?” Holden asked.
“I think it went well.”
“Callum seems to think so.”
“Yeah.” Bryce scooted closer. “His husband is real good friends with the owner.”
Holden took a drink and turned to survey the club, the glint of movement in the loft catching his eye, a flash of bare skin.
“What kind of club is this?” he asked for hopefully the third and final time.
Bryce exhaled a soft laugh and turned in the same direction as Holden, angled his face up toward the second floor and answered, “It’s a kink club.”