Chapter 31
ISAAC
The FaceTime call from Evan is a first.
I just finished a workout, and was thinking about a shower, but I haven’t made it there yet when the trilling noise starts coming from my phone. I push my hair back and wipe my brow before answering.
He’s in the sun, blue eyes clear and bright, the smile on his face endless. “Hi.”
“Hey. Looks nice out,” I say.
“It is. Why are you all sweaty?”
“I was on the treadmill.”
“Oh, sorry. I’m walking the dog. Just thought I’d check in. I’ve been scrubbing toilets and we needed a break.”
“We?”
“Apollo and me. Deacon’s at the farmer’s market. Apparently he’s gonna make stew tonight.”
Why isn’t Evan with him, then? I shake away the thought and ask, “Should I bring anything? What are the rules for these dinner parties?”
“You said you can cook?” he asks.
“I can.”
“Deacon might trust you with a dessert or a salad.”
I laugh. “Or I could pick up a few bags of chips.”
Evan’s smile widens.
“Why aren’t you with Deacon?” That was the whole point of my waiting until tonight to see them together again.
He seems to shrug. “I guess he likes to do his shopping alone. There was a lot to clean, anyway.”
It’s a valiant effort to seem unaffected by not being invited, but I know Evan too well to buy it.
That settles it for me. Next week cannot look like this week did.
I need both these guys. I’m done giving them space to get to know each other.
Between Deacon’s sex drive and Evan’s fear of rejection, I feel like they need me. I definitely need them.
“Are you okay?”
His background flashes in colorful blurs I can’t distinguish as he walks. After a few seconds, he says, “Why are both of you asking me that?”
“He asked, too?”
“Yeah. Do I not seem okay?”
“I’m just checking in. But if there’s something you need to talk about…”
“Just wrapping my brain around things. You know, like instead of seeing what’s happening between us as a problem I need to fix, I could be looking at it as an opportunity.”
“That’s a very C-suite take.”
“Right?”
“Do you really see it as a problem?” I ask.
“I don’t know. More like a line of code I can’t figure out. But I told you I’m keeping an open mind.”
“You are, and I’m so grateful. I’m looking forward to seeing you tonight. Both of you.”
He sucks in his cheeks and nods. “Yeah. There’s gonna be quite a few people at our place, though. You know that, right?”
“Yeah, I get the concept of a party.”
He bites his lip. “I’m looking forward to seeing you, too. In fact, if you can show up looking just like that, I wouldn’t be mad about it.”
That makes me blush, and I nervously smooth my hair back again. “I’ll see what I can do.”
“You have our address, right?”
They’ve both sent me the address. I also dropped Evan off there Monday morning. “Yeah, baby. I know where you live.”
His eyes nearly disappear when he smiles. “Don’t call me that, oh my God…”
“Oh, because you obviously hate it.”
“I’ll see you tonight, okay? Show up whenever. We’re in apartment three.”
I’m nervous the second I hang up the phone because I can’t fuck this up.
I need to be prepared for anything to happen.
The good, the bad, the ugly. Temper tantrums, panic attacks, puking apparently, because that’s a thing I do now.
To be clear, I’m not worried about the dinner party itself.
I’m good with people. It’s after the party I’m concerned about.
I swear I used to love being a gay man in San Francisco.
A rich, relatively attractive one. When I was younger I could have anyone I wanted.
I’ve had a few brief relationships, but never with anyone I want as much as I want Evan and Deacon.
I’ve consistently run into compatibility issues with my would-be partners.
Calyx—the runway model— is a perfect example.
He and I lasted about three months, but we had a lot of issues with communication and even more in the bedroom.
His sex drive was significantly lower than mine, and I couldn’t really see past how goddamn gorgeous he was to dive into what the real issues were.
In short, we were incompatible. All my relationships have been some version of that, which is why Evan was such a breath of fresh air.
He says what’s on his mind, he never lets me derail him.
He always gives as good as he gets. He’s smart as fuck, and quick.
Not to mention, he’s a sexy brat with a great ass who loves to be fucked and doesn’t give a shit about HR.
I didn’t realize I was falling so hard for him until the two dates I went on before I met Deacon, though.
The dates were both with good looking, intelligent, self-assured men who had plenty of money of their own and yet lacked any chemistry with me whatsoever. Then I’d show up in the office the next morning, hear Evan nag me about the schedule, watch him prowl toward me and—cue the inferno.
Should I have said something and not gone on the date with Deacon?
Probably. But Evan never acted like he wanted more from me.
Sex with him was about as impersonal as sex gets.
Not only that, but I had no idea I was the only person he was fucking.
At his age, with his looks? I assumed he hooked up all the time.
Evan’s a fucking minx. How was I supposed to know that was just for me?
And he certainly never said anything about being head over heels for his roommate in an unrequited way.
If I’d known about any of those things, I like to think I would have worked a hell of a lot harder, properly seducing him in order to make him forget everyone who wasn’t worth his time and charm him into giving all his attention to me.
But here I am with my churning stomach and upper lip sweat in the middle of February, climbing the stairs to apartment number three to go to a dinner party with two men I’m equally attracted to who also happen to be attracted to each other.
If this doesn’t turn into a disaster, it might end up being the first night of the rest of my life.
Evan answers the door in a tight, cropped white sweater and low slung baggy jeans. The sweater is practically mesh. It’s amazing. His cheeks are flushed, and his lips are red, a little swollen. Delectable.
“Hi,” he says through one of his outstanding smiles.
“Hi.” I hand him the bottle of wine I’m carrying in one hand.
He gives the label a cursory glance. “Is this a good one?”
“Define good.”
“More than fifty dollars?”
I pull off my coat. “You know I don’t pay attention to things like that.”
He rolls his eyes good-naturedly and steps aside to let me in. Deacon is in the kitchen, off to the left. He’s facing the living room where Evan and I are while he expertly juliennes a carrot. He, too, looks flushed and color saturated like he’s been recently making out with someone.
“Hello,” Deacon says.
“Hey. Anything I can help with?”
“You can keep him distracted so he stops distracting me.”
I look to Evan again. “Are you bored?”
“He won’t let me help, either. I might be slower, but I can chop things.”
Deacon responds with, “There’s a right way and a wrong way to chop. And you talk too much.” He gives Evan a heated glare then looks back down at the rapidly moving knife.
“I’m happy to listen to you,” I say, my dick already half-hard from the sight of them and the thick haze of pheromones in the air.
Evan takes my coat and hangs it up, then puts the bottle of wine on the kitchen island. “Will it distract you if I talk to Isaac on the couch, Deacon?”
“Yes,” he says.
“You scared to be alone with me?” I ask my assistant.
My question is met with the shiest look I’ve ever seen on Evan. “I have no idea what I’m doing. I thought you’d be fashionably late.”
“Why don’t you give me the tour.?
“Sure,” he says, then nods. “Okay. Well, this is our living room gym.” He gestures to my right at the intimate seating arrangement barricading a small home gym.
A flat screen TV is situated above the mantle of what used to be a fireplace. Where the logs would go, there are a dozen candles of all sizes and a dog toy in the shape of a dinosaur. Two bay windows and soft gray paint give the space a classic look.
I follow Evan as he walks through the six foot space between the kitchen island and the back of the couch toward a short hallway. He gestures to his right. “My room.” Then to his left. “Deacon’s room.”
“You both have bathrooms?” I ask since there isn’t one in the hall.
“We do. It’s no penthouse, but I like it. I got the room with the bay window.”
“What does Deacon have in his?”
“He has two regular windows, a courtyard view, and a bigger shower. It’s quieter back there, too.”
“May I see your bay window?”
He laughs, sharp and sudden. “Sure.”
His dog is taking up half his bed beneath the window. He raises his head when we come in.
Evan snaps his fingers. “Apollo, get down.”
The Great Dane looks at Evan like who? Me?
“This dog, I swear, has never had a single fuck to give.”
“He’s gorgeous, though.”
“I know. Sweet, too. Big, lazy fucker.” He looks over his shoulder like he’s afraid someone might have heard him. “I shouldn’t call him that. We’re in the middle of a paternity situation.”
“I’m sorry?”
“I can’t get into it right now.” Apollo lays his head back down and Evan turns toward me.
For the first time since I got here, he looks me over.
I’m in a black henley and tailored pale khakis.
I put gel in my hair and pushed it back, my nod to recreating the sweaty look he requested.
“People are gonna start showing up soon.”
“And these are your friends?”
“I mean—they were Deacon’s friends first. My friend Sam who usually comes is in New York this weekend, which is probably a good thing because he’s the one dating Calyx.”
“Ah.” Yeah, that wouldn’t be fun for me. I stay in shape, but I’m not equipped to deal with an MMA fighter watching every move I make. “We can save that introduction for another time.”
Evan grins and takes my hand, leading me back out into the living room. Deacon is wiping his hands on a dish towel, and he comes around the island. I let Evan’s hand go and walk toward him, needing to reconnect with him as soon as possible. Now that he isn’t holding a knife, I see my opportunity.
His arms wrap around me, and I hug him tight, pressing my mouth to his neck. I feel his cheek against mine and the warmth of his lips on my skin. Breathing him in, I can feel some of his tension giving way.
There’s the soft pop of a cork to my left as I pull away to look Deacon in the eyes. He slowly lifts his to meet mine. “Hi,” I mouth the word.
“Hey.”
“Don’t be such a stranger okay?”
He nods.
I lean in to kiss him, but before I can, there’s a knock on the door and Evan lets out an audible breath. “Two bucks says its Millie.”
Deacon gives my waist one more squeeze and pulls away as Evan goes to answer the door.