CHAPTER 4
CARTER
“Well, well, well. Isn’t that the sexiest out man in Denver?” I smirk as I greet Roman with my best flirty smile. I stand up straighter and let my eyes roam over his massive frame. I can feel Pete rolling his eyes at my blatant perusal. Whatever.
Clearly this is a sign of a good day because it’s been a long week since I laid my eyes on this sexy beast. A full week of jerking off morning and night to the barrage of fantasies all staring my best friend Ryan’s elusive brother. I’ve thought so much about the guy I've practically planned out our entire future together. Mark my words, I am going to marry that man. I will have that man's babies and he can breed me like a prized mare.
“Coffee?” Pete’s excited voice brings me back from dreamland.
“Awww, are you already buying me treats? That's one way into my heart.” I rest my hand over my chest and bat my eyelashes at Roman, ignoring the way Trouble snorts a laugh.
“Oh, yeah? And what's the way into your pants?” he asks with a sexy eyebrow raise and I damn near choke on my tongue. My mouth drops open and I slam it shut because holy fucking shit this guy is my soulmate.
“Damn, Ro. You made him speechless.” Pete slaps the desk full-on belly laughing now, but I can’t take my eyes off Roman. It’s like something out of a gay fairy tale. He’s a knight in black leather wielding what I hope is donuts.
“Americano, one sugar with a twist.” His voice has dropped to a low sultry tone as he steps closer and hands me my coffee. “You can thank me later, I’m sure you’ll… come up with something.” Winking, he retreats out of my personal space and continues chatting it up with Pete like he didn’t just make me almost come in my damn pants. My dick has practically punched a hole through my zipper at this point. I’m awestruck, standing here holding my coffee cup in one hand and the remains of my dignity in the other. I can do nothing but watch as Roman walks around the shop handing out his coffee deliveries.
“What is it, Car-Car? Is it possible you just met your match?” Pete asks with that mischievous little smirk of his. We both turn to look at Roman. He's so big he takes up the entire space between workstations.
“Oh, Trouble, I just met my future baby daddy and that match is gonna explode,” I whisper, making firework gestures around his face. “Fireworks, baby, the sheets are gonna burn.” I plant a loud smacking kiss on his temple and head back to the staff room since I don’t have an appointment for another hour.
“Game on, Muscles,” I mutter as I check out his ass one last time and bite down on my fist to hold back the overwhelming urge to propose here and now, to his toned, round ass. Damn, I can’t wait to worship at that altar. I’m not a religious man but I will absolutely praise that man's body. I add a sway to my hips as I cross the shop floor singing in my head how I plan to praise him like I should.
In order for said praise to begin, however, I need to get his number. Leaning back against the counter in the small staff kitchen I grab my phone and shoot a text to Ryan.
Me: You know I’m going to marry your brother right?? ??
Ryan: The fuck you are. ??
Me: Can’t stand in the way of fate my friend, in fact it’s law that you assist fate in its endeavors. ??
Ryan: If you are going to start spouting laws at me, I will have no choice but to redirect you to my legal representative. ??
Me: How about you just redirect me to your brother's phone number. ??
Ryan: How about you go fuck yourself? ??
Me: I’d rather fuck your brother ??????
Ryan: BLOCKED ??
Laughing to myself I scroll through my contacts and take a sip of my coffee. Never fear, Muscles. I ain’t a quitter, and I ain’t afraid to go the legal route.
Me: Dear Mr. Cliffer. This is a formal request regarding an extremely time-sensitive matter. As a best friend and colleague of your fiance it is a legal requirement that I be in full knowledge of Mr. Ryan Hilson's emergency contacts. As previously confirmed, you are the first point of contact. That being said, please provide me with the phone number of his secondary emergency contact, which should be the next physically closest family member — which I understand is Mr. Roman Hilson — in case you are out of reach during an emergency situation involving Mr. Ryan Hilson. I look forward to your speedy response in this matter. Mr. Carter Banks TA, LEGEND, BBFF, ESQUIRE.
Drew : ????
Drew : Dear Mr. Banks. In reference to the above correspondence. As you are aware, the well-being of Mr. Ryan Hilson is of the utmost importance. That being said, while I admire your commitment to your friendship with Mr. Hilson and appreciate your concern, I am unable to disclose the contact information of my future brother-in-law as that would be an egregious breach of trust. Mr. Andrew Cliffer, ESQ. NICETRY.
Me: I OBJECT, Hearsay!
Drew : ????
Me: Come on man! Have you SEEN that ass??
Drew: BLOCKED ??
ROMAN
I turn around just in time to watch Carter walking back or rather dancing back with his hands out to the side giving jazz fingers. I couldn’t fight the smile that takes over my face if I wanted to. I don’t think I've ever come across a man like Carter before in my life. Well I suppose a good chunk of my life was in prison but regardless, I never imagined that a guy could be so confident in his own skin. He is ridiculously hot and he knows it, but not in the egotistical sense. In the sense that he just goes for what he wants without a second thought. What I’ve seen of him so far, he just comes across like a good fucking time and like I said he’s seriously fucking hot. But now is not the time to be distracted by a guy, even if it has been a hell of a long time since I’ve had an orgasm by anything other than my own hand.
Now is the time to get my life back, find a job, find somewhere to live that isn’t my mom’s or Ryan’s house. I mean, I'm so thankful for them but I need to stand on my own two feet. Ryan, knocking his shoulder into mine, finally breaks my eye contact with Carter's ass and his knowing smirk makes my face flame. “Were you just checking out my best friend?” he asks, raising one eyebrow in question.
“Not checking him out, just never met anybody like him before,” I explain, not exactly lying but not sharing the whole truth. I was absolutely checking him out but I'm not going to do anything about it so no point in letting Ryan think I might. By the look on his face he most certainly is not buying what I'm selling.
“Yeah, you got that right. Carter doesn’t come with a filter. He will tell you exactly what he's thinking whether you want to hear it or not.” I nod because I remember what he asked me the night of the art show. The fact I never answered him, or confirmed that I was gay and yet he still flirts loudly kinda proves his lack of filter. Probably gets him in trouble more often than not. I think that's what I like most about him. Not wanting to get into that with my brother though I hand him the bag of donuts and wave goodbye. I have job hunting to do.
A framed letter on the wall by the door and the polaroid pictures surrounding it catch my attention.
Dear Savage Ink Tattoo artists,
My friends and I would like to send this letter to thank you for all that you have done to help raise money for our center.
My name is Lucas Millar and I’m fifteen years old. I have known that I am gay since I was twelve. My family are strict Catholics and don’t approve of homosexuality. I had hoped to keep it a secret until I was older and would be ready to leave home for college. Unfortunately my father received pictures of me kissing another boy which were taken without us knowing about it. My father never abused me but he did pack my things and told me I was no longer welcome in his house unless I agreed to attend a conversion camp.
I already knew about the center and the amazing work that it does for kids like me. I figured they could help, and they did. They have given me a bed and a safe place to stay while I finish high school. The money raised from the art show you organized will help make more bedrooms/dorms that can be used as a safe place for kids just like me and my friends.
Words can’t express how thankful we are, so I have included a few pictures of us enjoying the facilities the center provides.
From Lucas and friends (LGBTQ+ Center of Denver)
A lump forms in my throat by the time I get to the end of the letter. I can’t imagine what these kids have been through. My eyes scan the rest of the wall and a smile spreads over my face when I see the pictures the kids sent with the letter. They are all dressed in various costumes, superhero costumes to be precise. Clearly they know how much my brother loves comics. Their poses are typical hero stances, with one kid posing while the others make ridiculous gestures behind them. I chuckle to myself at how they all hide behind the same desk with just their eyes visible as the Incredible Hulk holds a chair above his head, mid-smash.
These pictures are hilarious and I'm overcome with the need to meet these kids. To help them even if it's just giving them somebody to vent to. Decision made, I take out my phone and google the center's address. Even though I really need to focus on finding a job, something deep inside me is telling me that I could offer something to these kids. Something to make sure that they don’t allow an adult to take advantage of their young minds, so they won’t end up like I did.
Here’s hoping they allow ex-cons to volunteer.