Chapter 2 #2
He stared at Lincoln, not used to the man’s abrupt nature. In the past, Joshua had rarely interacted with Lincoln and Dominic outside of Fading Daze, and Benji had almost always been present. “I have my reasons.”
“Uh-huh.”
That got Joshua’s temper going. “Look, I know open relationships are nontraditional, but it worked for us for a long time. And please don’t point out how happy Dominic and Trey are, because they’ve been together barely over a year. You and Emmett a few months.”
Lincoln shrugged. “My parents have been together thirty-plus years.”
“They’re really your best example right now?”
The Wests had doted on their only son, encouraging his musical talents, up until Lincoln came out to them at seventeen. Then his dad punted him down a flight of stairs and broke his collarbone. As far as Joshua knew, he hadn’t spoken to his parents since.
“Okay, fine, what about the Boundses? They’re approaching their thirty-fifth anniversary this November.” Lincoln crossed his arms, as if daring Joshua to dispute that.
Dominic’s parents were as close to a perfect couple as Joshua had ever met. Their five children were all adopted, and they loved each one as if they were flesh and blood. They were welcoming to every single one of Dominic’s friends and band mates, and his band mates’ boyfriends, Joshua included.
“Let me ask you this, then,” Lincoln said, leaning forward. “Are you reluctant to commit to Benji because you’re holding out for someone better?”
Lincoln might as well have punched him in the nuts. “Of course not!” Joshua’s voice echoed a bit too loudly, because Harmonica Girl had stopped making noise. Cheeks flaming, Joshua ducked his head and lowered his voice. “Benji is amazing. I love him so much it hurts sometimes.”
“Then I guess I don’t understand why you won’t commit to him.”
“Neither does Benji, no matter how many times I try to explain.”
Instead of angry, Lincoln looked sad. “You do realize that if something doesn’t change, you guys won’t have any kind of relationship left, right? I’ve known Benji almost as long as you have. When he wants something, he goes for it, whole hog.”
“I know.” It would tear him apart to lose Benji, but more than anything, he wanted Benji to be happy. No matter with whom.
They settled in to listen to the acts, Joshua working his drink faster than Lincoln. He totally sucked as a boyfriend, and Benji deserved better, and that required more alcohol. He needed to celebrate how awful he was, so he slipped off his stool and over to the bar. And he froze.
One of the sexiest male specimens Joshua had ever encountered was holding court behind the bar, expertly pouring drinks and flirting with the patrons.
Tall and lean, with dark spiky hair, high cheekbones, and the most thickly lashed eyes he’d ever seen.
A black tee showed off his toned arms and flat stomach.
His laughter sent shivers down Joshua’s spine, and that started doing things to his dick.
Want.
The thought immediately made him feel like an asshole.
Thirty seconds ago he was pining for his boyfriend, and now he was ogling a hot piece of ass.
Except Joshua hadn’t felt this kind of burning attraction for someone in a long time.
Not since Benji. And before Benji, it had been his high school girlfriend Megan, who’d had his heart for three years.
And then his prey turned to take Joshua’s order, grinning to beat the devil, and Joshua’s heart nearly pumped out of his chest. “What can I get you?” the bartender asked in a voice as smooth as Tennessee whiskey.
Joshua’s brain stopped before he embarrassed himself by blurting out, “An hour alone with you.” Instead, he managed a hoarse, “Cap and Coke.”
“A man of simple tastes. Coming right up.” He also took an order from two other people and began mixing all three drinks at once. He was a symphony of movements, each one precise and measured. A man perfectly in control of his body and his environment.
Joshua was sure his tongue was lolling out when the bartender brought his drink over. He handed the man his debit card, grateful for a moment to clear his head. Maybe come up with something smoother than a raspy drink order. He didn’t usually flounder this badly.
Emmett Westmore saved his ass by coming behind the bar with a bucket of ice to dump into one of the freezers.
He bar-backed at Off Beat five nights a week, which was why he hadn’t accompanied him and Lincoln.
After he dumped the ice, Emmett spotted him and came over.
The guy was shy on the best of days, but he shined when he was with Lincoln.
“Hey, enjoying the show?” Emmett asked.
“Depends on which show you mean.” He tilted his head toward the cash register. “Who’s that?”
Emmett didn’t even look. “Van Holt. He’s worked here forever. Well, not forever, but a long time. He’s a nice guy.”
Van Holt. The name had a bad-boy vibe to it that Joshua wouldn’t mind exploring in greater detail.
The bartender—Van—returned with Joshua’s card and a receipt. He glanced at Emmett with those piercing eyes. “You guys know each other?”
“He’s a friend of Linc’s,” Emmett replied. “Joshua, this is Van.” With a smirk, Emmett slunk off.
Van grinned, then held out his hand. “Well, Linc makes Emmett happy, so any friend of his is a friend of mine.”
“Wait until you get to know me better,” Joshua teased, then shook. The faint tingle in his palm raced straight to his heart, sending it off at a gallop.
Van glanced at their joined hands, a funny quirk to his lips. “Is that an invitation?”
“More like a future prediction.”
“Is that so?” People were holding up cash money to order drinks, but Van held eye contact. “I like a guy who goes for what he wants.”
That was encouraging. “So what time do you get off?”
Van’s eyes sparkled at the double entendre. He handed over a credit slip and a pen. “Give me your number. I’ll text you, and if you’re still awake we’ll see what’s what.”
Not a guarantee of future sexy times, but it was a start. Joshua scribbled his cell number onto the paper, then slid it back to Van. “Something tells me you’re worth losing sleep over.” With a wink, Joshua took his drink and returned to the table.
“Were you just flirting with Van?” Lincoln asked.
“Yes. So?”
Lincoln shook his head, but didn’t comment further. Joshua shrugged it off and sipped his new drink, no longer in the mood to get hammered and pass out. Maybe he couldn’t fix things with Benji tonight, but he could sure as hell not be alone while he figured out what to do next.
Van Holt had thrown away more phone numbers than he could count. Hundreds at least, scribbled onto napkins or the backs of receipts. Once a drunk girl had grabbed his arm and tried to write on him with permanent marker, and that had been all kinds of fun to scrub off.
His instinct was to toss Joshua’s number into the trash, along with a few soggy napkins and abandoned cherry stems. Instead, he slipped it into his pocket, in case.
In case the odd little thrill he’d felt while shaking Joshua’s hand wasn’t a fluke.
In case he wasn’t completely exhausted by the end of his shift and maybe, just maybe, could use a little release.
As the night went on, he nearly dumped the phone number several times, in between making drinks, washing glassware, and dancing around his fellow bartender Sasha. They’d worked together long enough to not bump into each other in the narrow space between the two stations.
Joshua and Lincoln left a little after one o’clock, and Van couldn’t explain the urge to follow them.
To follow him. He tried to ignore it and do his job, but Joshua’s face kept appearing in his mind’s eye.
About his height, lean, with short dark hair and smooth golden skin that could have been from a tanning booth or hereditary.
More dark scruff on his chin. Van couldn’t help pondering where else he’d find that lovely hair.
Further inspection was required.
With summertime hours officially over, last call was at one-fifteen, and they stopped serving at one-thirty.
They were close to empty by that time, so it didn’t take long for him and Sasha to clean up and shut down.
He shouted goodnights to various people on his way across the narrow parking lot to his car. Two-door, cherry red, she was his baby.
He started her up, blasted the a/c, and stared at Joshua’s phone number. Palmed his cell phone. Stared some more. He couldn’t explain the hesitation. He was wide-awake and in the mood. Joshua had flirted like a man who knew how to fuck, so no worries in that department.
You’re scared he’s asleep and won’t answer.
“Shut up,” he said to the phone number. He was Van Fucking Holt.
He was fearless.
He tapped the number into his phone, saved it, and then called. The first two rings didn’t matter. The third unsettled him. By the fourth, he nearly ended the call.
“Hello?” Suspicious, but definitely Joshua’s voice.
“It’s Van.”
Joshua chuckled. “I figured as much, even though I don’t have your number in my memory. I usually answer unknown calls with something much racier.”
“Such as?”
“Hollywood Phone Sex Line, how may I direct your call?”
Van burst out laughing. “I may have to steal that.”
“Feel free. So. Your place or mine?”
“I have a roommate who’s probably sound asleep on the sofa bed.”
“Hmm. I have a roommate who’s probably sound asleep two doors down, waiting for his boyfriend to get off work and wake him up.”
Van tried to process that one. “Emmett said you’re friends with Lincoln. You live with him, too? I thought he lived with a chick.”
“The chick went back to college. I’m renting a room for a few months to get my head together.”
That sounded like complications Van didn’t need in his life. Still, Joshua intrigued him. And he’d stayed awake not knowing how late Van would be, or if he’d even call, which earned him major fuck points.
“So two couples having sex in the same apartment, possibly at the same time,” Van said. “Sounds like fun.”
Joshua made a soft noise. “That mean you wanna come over and play?”
The growl in Joshua’s voice perked his dick up. “Definitely. Should warn you, though, I top only.”
“Excellent. Then you can bring the condoms.”
“You realize that either requires me to find a pharmacy open at this hour, or to drive back to my place, which is in the opposite direction of yours.”
“How do you know where I live?”
“I gave Emmett a ride once or twice.”
Joshua grunted. “Fine, we’ll use my stuff.”
Van liked how huffy he was getting, probably used to being the one in charge of the dynamics. This was going to be fun. “Good. Be there in a few.”
He hung up, then backed out of the parking space. The barber pole outside of Off Beat was dark, and the front door opened, ejecting Beatrice and Emmett. Bea was always the last person out, except on the rare occasion she needed to be up early the next morning. Then she’d let Van or Sasha close.
He idled up to the sidewalk and rolled down the passenger window. “Hey, Em, you heading over to your man?”
Emmett blinked at him. “Um, yes?”
“Want a ride? We’re going to the same destination.”
“We are?” He kind of squeaked that, which was adorable. “Um, sure. Night, Aunt Beatrice.”
“You boys behave yourself,” she replied with a wave.
Once Emmett was seat-belted into place, Van turned into the thin traffic.
“So, uh, you and Joshua, huh?” Emmett said.
Van winked at him. “Looks like.”
“Guess that works out for everyone.”
“What do you mean?”
Emmett shrugged. “I mean, you don’t do relationships, and Joshua doesn’t do repeats. So it works out.”
Curiouser and curiouser. And maybe a bit disappointing. “How do you know Joshua doesn’t do repeats?”
“Because he has a boyfriend.”
Van nearly slammed on the breaks. “He what?”
“It’s okay, Linc says they have an open relationship, so they can see other people, but only once.”
Only Emmett would refer to fucking as “see other people.” But that wasn’t the important part here.
Joshua had a boyfriend, which he’d failed to mention before inviting Van over for sex.
In other circumstances, it may not have put Van off, especially with the open relationship thing.
But he’d felt something with Joshua. A spark of something unusual and tantalizing and real.
What if he realized, afterward, that this was more than a fuck, but Joshua tossed him off like the used condom?
His insides twisted up tight.
“Are you okay?” Emmett asked. “I’m guessing he didn’t mention Benji in passing.”
Benji. Fading Daze. XYZ. Off Beat.
July.
“His boyfriend is Benji Moore?” Van asked.
“Um, yes?”
The night Fading Daze had given a reunion performance at Off Beat, Benji had flirted up a storm with Van, and Van had been incredibly interested.
Benji was cute, energetic, and he had a perfect bubble butt.
Then Van’s friend Melody had reached out for help and obliterated the chance of a hookup.
Benji was gone, back to performing with his band.
Van had never gotten to scratch that itch, and now Benji’s boyfriend was sniffing around him?
Back off, this is too complicated.
His thoughts tumbled all over themselves on the rest of the short drive. He pulled onto the side street, then idled a few houses down from their destination.
“Did I say the wrong thing?” Emmett asked. “You look like you’re about to arrive at a funeral.”
“I don’t like fucking around with people who have boyfriends, open relationships or not.” Mostly true. No way was he admitting to Emmett that he’d felt something with Joshua. He’d come off sounding like a lovesick teenager, and Van had a reputation to uphold.
“That’s understandable. Linc and I talked about it once, when we first started seeing each other. We couldn’t imagine sharing once we committed.”
And that was the fundamental issue for Van: he’d never had anything as solid or strong as what Lincoln and Emmett had, and for one tiny moment tonight, he’d allowed himself to hope. To hope he’d found someone really special for the first time in over a decade.
Too bad it was all an illusion.
“Do you mind walking from here?” Van asked.
Emmett shook his head sadly. “No, it’s fine. See you later, Van.”
“Later.”
He watched Emmett walk down the street, shoulders hunched, probably feeling responsible for ruining Van’s night—which he hadn’t. Van would have been worse off in the morning when Joshua dropped the boyfriend bombshell.
Still, as he turned around to drive home, he couldn’t completely decide if he’d dodged a bullet, or missed out on something potentially great.