Chapter 3 #3
We ordered sweet coffees—him getting a caramel one while I ordered a caffe mocha. After paying, we grabbed our drinks, and I motioned to the couch. “Let’s sit there. It looks comfortable.”
“Sure.” He sipped his coffee and dropped into the corner of the sofa.
Sitting beside him, I held the warm drink in my hands. How should I start this conversation? Now that I’d gotten him here, I didn’t know what to say. Maybe I should learn more about him first? “So, you’re from Alabama?”
“Yes.” He dipped his head and clenched his jaw. “I grew up there and right after I graduated high school, my parents kicked me out.” He sipped more coffee. “And so I came here on a whim. I’d never been to Arizona, and I didn’t want to live in snow, so…”
“Shit, why did your parents kick you out?” I knitted my brows. Was it because he was gay?
“They found out I was gay in my senior year of high school. My father wanted to kick me out right then and there, but my mom talked him into letting me stay, so I would finish high school.” His darkened gaze found mine.
“My parents are homophobic. They’re Southern Baptist.” He gazed out the front window for a moment and focused on me.
“After they found out, I wasn’t allowed to go to church.
Not that I wanted to.” He tightened his jaw.
“In fact, they did me a favor by kicking me out so I could leave that fucking place.”
“Jesus, Ezra. I’m so sorry.” I placed my hand on his knee. “My parents were pretty accepting when my brother came out.” No wonder he never smiled. I thought back to the day. Mason had been in high school, too. “I mean, my dad wasn’t so cool with it at first, but he came around.”
“That’s great for your brother.” His gaze locked on my hand, still resting on his knee. “No wonder he’s not afraid of being out in the NAPH.”
I slid my hand from his knee and onto my lap. “Tell me about Tate.” Did Ezra end up with him because of how his family treated him? Did he have low self-esteem? I’d have to Google some shit after this conversation. I drank my coffee, the bitter and sweet of the chocolate flavoring filling my mouth.
“I met Tate about a year ago on a hookup app. It was only supposed to be a one-nighter, but…” He shrugged.
“Tate wanted more. He was very convincing.” With a sigh, his shoulders drooped.
“He treated me to expensive restaurants and first-class flights to Cabo for vacation. He’s from a wealthy family here in Paradise Valley. ”
“Yeah?” I drank more coffee. “What about your friends? What do they think of him?” I knew guys like that, flaunting their money everywhere. Tate was your typical douche canoe. It didn’t surprise me.
“I, uh, I don’t have time for friends.” He pinched his lips. “I had some during college. I went to Phoenix College for photography. After I graduated, I opened the studio and worked a lot. Then I met Tate and…” He drew a deep inhale. “Tate doesn’t like me hanging out with anyone but him.”
“What do you think he’d do if he knew we were hanging out like this?” Prickling wound through my chest and I tightened my grip on my coffee cup. I might beat the fucker to pulp if he walked in right now.
“He’d be…angry.” Choking out a laugh, his lips went slack. “He slapped me after you were in my studio the other day.”
“He what?” As burning ignited inside me, I almost crushed my cup and set it on the coffee table. “That’s not right, Ezra. Was it the first time?” Now if I saw him, I’d definitely beat him.
Hanging his head, his long bangs covered his face. “Yes, it was the first time. I’m not proud I’ve let it get to—”
“It’s not your fault. It’s his.” Jesus, fuck.
I hated guys like Tate. Throwing my arms around Ezra, I hauled him to my chest, brushing my hand down the back of his soft hair.
“You have to get away from him.” I breathed him in, his scent a mix of sandalwood and vanilla.
God, he smelled good. My stomach quivered and my cock twitched in my joggers.
Fuck, this had escalated quickly, and what was wrong with my dick?
He rested his cheek on my shoulder. “I know, but I don’t know how.
” He slid an arm around my waist and squeezed.
“Thank you for your concern, but I’ll find a way.
” He pushed off me and straightened, flicking his hair behind his shoulder.
“I made something of myself despite my parents and I’ll find a way to leave Tate. ” His hardened gaze swept to mine.
My heart broke for him. He was a strong guy.
I could see it in his eyes. “But you don’t have to do it alone.
I know a lot of queer guys here. Professional hockey players.
My brother and his friends will help.” I clasped his hand in mine.
“And me. I want to help.” But wouldn’t I be traveling for games soon? “If you need a place to stay—”
As his gaze softened, his eyes glistened. “No one’s stood by me before.” He frowned. “I’m not one to ask for help.”
“I get it. But we all need help sometimes. Let me help you. Please.” An ache floated across my heart. I didn’t understand what was happening to me, but I couldn’t abandon him. There was something about him I couldn’t walk away from.
“Yeah, okay.” He ticked his shoulder, and his phone buzzed in his pocket. “Shit. It’s probably Tate.” Scoffing a sigh, he slid it out and peered at the phone. “Yep.” He tapped on the screen. “Tate’s asking why the studio is locked and where I am.”
“What are you telling him?” Fuck, were things about to go down now? My pulse raced.
“I’m telling him I was hungry and stepped out to get some food.” He set the phone on the table, and it buzzed again. “He’ll want to know where, so he can find me.”
“Ezra, you can’t tell him where we are.” Shit, this felt like we were cheating. But we weren’t. We were…friends. That was all. No matter what sick joke my dick was playing on me. “Does he know about—”
With a scowl, Tate pitched the door open to the coffee shop.