Epilogue
OFFER ME NO ABSOLUTES
Jamie didn’t know what time it was, only that he was in his third bar of the evening.
It had the biggest crowd, and the bartender hadn’t batted an eye at Jamie’s request to keep the drinks coming.
Even better, the woman had eyed him with a look that said she knew exactly who he was and then did her damnedest to keep the seat next to him clear of all comers.
Jamie had already tipped her several thousand dollars as a thank-you on the first drink, which might also be why she was keen to help keep the curious at bay.
Sipping his whiskey, Jamie glanced around the room for the dozenth time.
The Prohibition was a popular two-level Manhattan retro craft cocktail bar, less a club scene and more a place to be seen, but the music could be just as loud as it was on a dance floor.
Right now, the music in the lower level was one decibel below needing to yell to be heard over it.
The noise was almost enough to drown out his thoughts.
Almost, but not quite.
Two weeks since the mission in London had ended, and the story still wasn’t dead yet, but it was fading from the public’s immediate focus in favor of other, more newsworthy stories.
Jamie had spent most of his time since then taking meetings with the brass, overseeing Katie’s work on the Saunders & Associates project, and making sure to be seen with his father for the campaign.
Having his picture splashed over the media sphere was aggravating, if only because it necessitated a change in how he conducted his private life.
Jamie hadn’t seen Kyle outside of work since they’d returned to the States.
The scrutiny Jamie found himself under was still too hot for them to be together how they were before the start of the last mission.
Falling asleep and waking up in a cold bed had gotten old by the third night.
Jamie hadn’t realized just how much he’d come to appreciate not being alone until Kyle’s absence became a void he couldn’t ignore.
Jamie knew the mission had to come first, especially after they’d successfully hooked Stanislav’s attention.
The call Jamie had received a few days ago confirmed the tentative business relationship Root Source, Inc.
now had with the Pavluhkins. When the next project request would come down was anyone’s guess, but Stanislav seemed to believe Jamie’s explanations for the political maneuverings of his family.
It was very Russian of him, according to Stanislav.
Still, with needing to shore up his background to fit the story they were building, it meant Jamie had spent more consecutive time with his family over the past two weeks than he had in the last few years.
While his mother was happy to see him, no matter the circumstances, he and his father were still working on overcoming their simmering animosity while struggling to find some common ground.
In short, business as usual.
Jamie took a long swallow of his whiskey, finishing what was in his glass.
He nudged it to the other side of the synthwood bar counter, catching the bartender’s eye.
She nodded briskly at him and finished crafting her current set of drinks and handed them off to willing hands.
She grabbed a bottle out of the small wooden cabinet where the most expensive bottles resided and carried it over to his seat, pouring out another glass for him.
Jamie swiped his hand over the small payment sensor embedded in the counter as she poured, the cost of the glass debited out of his RealIdent chip.
Someone sat down on the barstool beside him. “This seat taken?”
“It’s always open for you.” Jamie waved off the bartender, who was already opening her mouth to evict the newcomer. “He’s fine.”
She didn’t question Jamie’s change of heart, only went on about her business now that his glass was refilled. Jamie swiped his hand over the sensor again, adding a couple thousand dollars more to her tip. Her discretion really was worth the cost of staying.
Kyle rested his elbow against the bar counter, back to the crowd, half his face cast in shadows.
The bar was low-lit, giving it a more intimate air than some of the brighter places in Manhattan’s nightlife.
Kyle was a little underdressed for the location, most likely not even on the list, but Jamie wasn’t going to question how he’d gotten inside.
All that mattered was he was here, and it’d been days since Jamie last saw him, much less spoken to him.
Jamie drank in the sight of the other man, feeling something unknot inside his chest from just knowing Kyle was with him again.
Kyle’s eyes flicked up and down, taking Jamie in. “You look like shit.”
“I’m in bespoke.”
“That doesn’t stop you from looking like shit.”
Jamie felt his mouth curving into a smile at Kyle’s caustic tone, glad for the brutally truthful opinion Kyle never ceased to give him. “I’ve missed you.”
Kyle’s hand twitched where it rested on his knee, but he didn’t reach for Jamie.
They were in public, and Jamie knew everyone’s eyes had been on him all night, at every bar he’d gone to.
It’s why he cut and run after a while, too tense beneath the lingering stares to enjoy his time drowning his problems in a glass of whiskey.
It also helped to hide how much he was actually drinking and how sober he still was.
His metahuman metabolism burned through alcohol a hell of a lot quicker than everyone else’s could.
Changing bars ensured no one really knew how much he’d actually been drinking.
“Missed me watching your back, I know,” Kyle said easily enough to keep up appearances.
“How’d you find me?”
Kyle shrugged. “The usual way.”
Which meant Katie had tracked him down and guided Kyle right to him. Jamie couldn’t even be mad about that. “I still have to be in Manhattan for a few more days.”
“I know. But I thought you could use a little company that wasn’t family.”
Jamie took a swallow of whiskey, running his tongue over the back of his teeth. “I appreciate it.”
Because they both knew how stressful dealing with Jamie’s family was for him. Jamie loved them, he did, but there was a reason he’d spent almost every night in Manhattan drinking in bars and clubs rather than staying in.
“I didn’t get a hotel.”
Jamie sighed regretfully. “You know I can’t let you stay with—”
“I know,” Kyle said, cutting him off. “Trains run all night. I’ll catch one back to DC, don’t worry.”
Jamie gritted his teeth, swallowing back the bitterness that had more to do with the situation than the whiskey. “Okay.”
Kyle shifted on the barstool, angling his body a little closer to Jamie. “I know it’s been a shitty couple of weeks and that I shouldn’t be here because…well, you know why. I can go if you think this is a bad idea.”
“No. I want you to stay,” Jamie got out in a quick voice, practically spitting the words in his haste.
Kyle’s shoulders slumped a little in relief as he let out a sharp sigh. “Good. I wasn’t sure if I made the right call.”
Knowing that Kyle was doubting himself where they were concerned made Jamie reach out for him, not caring about any of the eyes that might be turned their way. He grasped Kyle’s hand in his, squeezing gently, catching Kyle’s gaze.
“If anyone asks, I’ll say it fits with the cover,” Jamie said in a low voice, going for a lighthearted joke and failing miserably.
“Yeah, that was fun while it lasted.”
Jamie rubbed his thumb over Kyle’s knuckles a few times before letting him go. “Something tells me we’ll have to play those roles again in the near future.”
“Are we always going to play those roles?”
The question came out quiet and calm, but Jamie could read the uncertainty in Kyle’s green eyes clear as day. “Thought we discussed this already?”
“Things change.”
“The situation, yeah, maybe. But not us.”
“It might come down to that. I mean, I thought I knew how bad everything would be, with the press and all, but I honestly had no fucking clue it would be like this.”
“It’s the election. That makes everything worse. It’s not forever.”
“And if your dad wins? If he becomes president? What then?”
Kyle chewed on his bottom lip, teeth a flash of white in the dim light. Jamie wanted to reach up and press his fingers to Kyle’s mouth, wanted to stop the tell in its tracks. He wanted, and that would never change.
“Then he gets what he’s always been after since entering politics,” Jamie said.
“And you? What do you get?”
Jamie’s mouth was suddenly dry, like the parched deserts in the American Southwest. “I won’t risk my career for my father’s, but I’ll keep risking it for you. That’s never going to change.”
Kyle nodded slowly, tongue flicking out to lick his lips. “You should finish your drink.”
“I’d rather finish what you started when you showed up here.”
Kyle slid off the stool and wordlessly grabbed Jamie’s hand, pulling him away from the bar.
They were situated near the back wall of the lower level, a short, dark hallway leading away from the main socializing area.
One of the two toilets in the hallway was locked, and no one was waiting in line for the second.
Kyle pulled Jamie inside, locked the door, then shoved him up against it.
Strong fingers wrapped around his tie and yanked him down to a warm, desperate mouth Jamie hadn’t tasted in weeks.
Jamie grabbed Kyle by the waist and shoved a hard thigh between his legs, dragging him closer with rough hands.
Kyle groaned, grinding against Jamie’s leg as Jamie licked his way into Kyle’s mouth again and again.
Just the feel of Kyle against him was enough to make all the blood in his body rush to his cock, making him momentarily lightheaded.
“Fuck, I’ve missed you,” Kyle gasped out when they broke apart, the words ragged.