Chapter 6
Seth wasn’t supposed to know exactly what was bothering Ren—they’d talked about it briefly when he was himself, but Ren had shared a lot more with “Jake.”
It was very stupid to be jealous of himself, but he was.
But because he was also Jake, it wasn’t surprising to see Ren drinking more than he normally did.
The argument, ongoing for almost two days now, with Gabe would really bother him.
And, Seth thought as he watched Ren grab two more drinks for them, maybe he was even a little bit conflicted over Seth versus Jake.
For a second, he considered telling Ren the truth now. It would solve a lot of their problems. But after three old-fashioneds, he could tell Ren was more than a little tipsy—and heading towards just plain drunk.
It would be a terrible idea to tell him now.
His reaction wasn’t guaranteed. He could still be really pissed off at Seth, and adding alcohol to that mix could make for something explosive.
It could be some really hot sex, finally.
Or it could be a fight that they couldn’t come back from.
Seth decided not to take the risk.
“Here you go,” Ren said with a flourish as he set a fresh drink down in front of Seth.
A drink that he already knew he’d just be carefully sipping.
He rarely drank more than one, and he’d already had two—and it seemed like Ren was going to have plenty for both of them, and Seth intended to keep an eye on him.
Which he couldn’t do, not properly anyway, if he was drunk himself.
“Thanks,” Seth said warmly. “You want the last mushroom?”
“What a silly question,” Ren teased.
“Oh! Are those the famous stuffed mushrooms?”
Seth tore his eyes away from Ren’s mesmerizing dark gaze, only to glance up and see Gabe and Sean standing there.
“They are,” Ren said primly, straightening.
Seth found himself already missing the entrancing, flirty version of Ren that he’d been enjoying.
He’d gotten a bit of it as Jake, but never in person, and never as strongly as this.
He’d never have been able to resist, no matter how good his self control, if he’d had to deal with this version of Ren.
But, he reminded himself, he had to.
He couldn’t sleep with Ren before Ren knew the truth. That would be one hundred percent guaranteed to piss him off, and for good reason, because it would be wrong.
Plus, if he was going to finally get Lorenzo Moretti into bed, they were both going to be fully sober and able to enjoy every single bit of the experience.
“And,” Ren added, slapping Gabe’s hand away as he reached in to grab the last mushroom, “that’s mine, not yours. Go get your own.”
“Maybe I will, I just wanted to know if they were any good.”
“Of course they were,” Ren said. “Ross made them.”
“We can get our own plate of them, right?” Sean said, and glanced over at Seth, a wealth of feeling in that one look.
It was definitely not easy on anyone when these two argued.
“I’m sure you can,” Seth said. Ignoring the way that Ren and Gabe were glaring at each other, their argument becoming less about their food truck and more a standoff about a single stuffed mushroom.
“Come on,” Sean said to Gabe, “we can go order some food at the bar.”
“You can have this table,” Seth said, an idea blossoming in his mind. “We were just about to dance anyway.”
He’d never gotten the chance to dance with Ren before—though he wasn’t much of a dancer himself, he’d always regretted that he’d turned him down before he’d gotten even a single chance to get close to him—and this would also prevent Ren from downing his next drink like the bottom of his glass held the secrets to the universe.
“We were?” Ren questioned, looking surprised. Probably because they hadn’t been about to. But he was definitely edging past tipsy and into drunk, and Seth was beginning to see that a drunk Ren was also a pliable Ren.
“We were,” Seth said firmly, walking around the table and reaching for his arm. Didn’t overthink, and let his fingers slip down lower, until he was holding Ren’s hand.
He’d never imagined that they’d do this.
Or that Ren would allow it.
But the way Ren was gazing up at him said he’d allow it, and so much more.
Seth’s heart beat a little harder as they walked to the dance floor, even as he tried to keep his breathing even.
“I like this,” Ren said, eyes fluttering closed as he plastered his body against Seth’s.
And oh, Seth liked it too. He knew he would though; he’d known from the first moment he’d looked up into Balls like so many of the other things associated with Ren.
“Maybe because I’m the only one,” Seth said. He pulled back, ignoring the way his body screamed out at losing the press of Ren’s body against his. “I need some air. Do you need some air?”
Ren’s eyes gleamed. Dark and mysterious and yet not so mysterious after all.
He thought Seth was trying to get them alone.
“Let’s go to the roof,” Seth said before Ren could suggest somewhere more private. He tugged him away from the makeshift dance floor and towards the winding metal staircase that led to the rooftop bar.
“Really?” Ren sounded skeptical, but he was still following along easily enough, his hand loosely tangled in Seth’s.
“It’s supposed to have an incredible view of the city lights,” Seth said.
“Ahhhh, romance,” Ren retorted knowingly.
The irony, Seth thought as they climbed the staircase, was that he’d been trying to avoid romance.
He’d heard the noises filtering down from the rooftop earlier, and he figured there’d be a lot of people up here, now that the sun had fully set.
And it turned out he was right.
As they emerged onto the rooftop, it was easy to spot the group of Riptide players, with Tate in their midst, along with Alexis and Jackson, and Sean and Gabriel.
Tate’s sister, Rachel, and her girlfriend, Harmony, were tucked off in the corner, a fuzzy blanket wrapped around their shoulders.
Similar blankets were rolled up in wicker baskets.
The lights up here were subtler than the ones that crisscrossed the patio at the Funky Cup, tucked underneath the bar, and underneath the ledge, so the view, with its sparkling view of Los Angeles, could be seen more easily.
There were plants dotting the space, as well as some low couches and chairs, and a long bar along one side.
That’s where everyone was currently congregated.
“Hey, it’s Ren!” Chase, Tate’s boyfriend and a wide receiver for the Los Angeles Riptide, called out. “And Seth! You guys are just in time.”
“For?” Ren enquired as they walked towards the group.
Seth had fully expected that in the sight of so many people they knew that Ren would drop his hand.
But he was gripping it just as tightly as he had downstairs.