Chapter 6 #2
“We’re doing a round of celebration shots,” Chase crowed. He gestured to the bartender. “Pour two more, please, we’ve got some more friends.”
The bartender smiled, probably certain that she’d be getting an enormous tip from the popular and wealthy football player, and poured two more from the tequila bottle in her hand.
“Hey, let’s go,” Ren said, gesturing to the group, and that was when he dropped his hand.
It’s all good, you already got more than you thought you would.
But it still stung, no matter how many platitudes Seth told himself.
Seth had no intention of taking the shot—he’d had plenty already—but there was no way he was stopping Ren, who with everyone else, chimed in when Chase raised his shot glass to, “The second-best bar in Los Angeles!”
Seth’s hand was still loosely circling the base of his full shot glass. Maybe nobody would notice if he never drank it? But before he could decide, Ren leaned over and plucked it out of his fingers and downed it too.
Ren’s eyes were glazed now, the alcohol catching up with him, and yeah, he was definitely going to regret that second tequila shot in the morning.
And you won’t be there to see it.
But Jake could be, or at least his words might be.
For the first time, Seth realized he didn’t really know what the fuck he was doing. Ren might accept Jake, but he was never going to accept that Seth was Jake.
He turned to go, but Ren caught his elbow.
“Where are you going?” he demanded.
“I . . .”
Ren frowned, his expressions exaggerated by the booze swimming through his system.
“You’re not leaving, are you?” Ren suddenly looked very concerned.
He should leave. It would be smarter than to watch Ren drown the rest of his hopes in liquor.
But instead, he shook his head. “No, I’m not going anywhere,” Seth said.
On Ren’s other side, Sean was leaning against Gabriel, and he was giggling. Gabe’s eyes met Seth’s and there was a definite kind of commiseration there.
“Hey,” Gabe said to Sean, “you and Ren hold up this bar, okay? I’m gonna talk to Seth real quick.”
Seth already knew what Gabe was going to ask before he drew him apart from the group, leaving his drunk boyfriend and his drunk cousin on their own.
Probably to drink more, because Seth had learned the hard way that having a few was a good reason to convince yourself that you needed a few more.
It was why he rarely had more than one.
“I’m going to have to figure out how to get Sean and Ren home,” Gabe said, “and I’m not exactly sober either. Could . . . could you deal with Ren? Take care of him?” There was a hopeful look in his eyes. Like he hoped that maybe they’d fuck each other out of their systems.
Yeah, Seth had been hopeful of that once, but that ship had long sailed.
“You want me to take Ren home?”
“When he wants to go, yeah,” Gabe said. “Is that okay? I kind of assumed . . .”
“It’s not . . . it’s not like that,” Seth said, hating how he stuttered over the lie. He wasn’t exactly sober either. And not just from the booze.
“Well,” Gabe said, “that is what it looks like, at least from this angle. But if you don’t . . .”
“I’ll take care of him,” Seth said firmly.
“Oh good.” Gabe patted him on the arm. “I appreciate it, man.”
“You’re welcome.”
When they drifted back to the group, Sean and Ren were laughing together, along with Alexis and Tate.
Ren’s eyes met his, and he actually looked happy to see him again. “Oh, good, you didn’t go anywhere,” he said.
“I wouldn’t,” Seth said.
Ren slid a hand around Seth’s waist and tugged him closer. Too close. His gaze was mesmerizing. “I was just thinking . . .” he said, speaking slowly. “That maybe we should go.”
“We will, in a bit,” Seth said. He hoped that Ren might sober up before that happened.
He’d be less pissed that Seth would be leaving him alone in his bed, in that scenario.
“Then get me another drink, will you?” Ren’s voice had dropped, like he was telling Seth a secret just for the two of them, and his lips barely brushed Seth’s ear. He had to hold back the full-body shudder as he felt them.
“Sure,” Seth said.
The bartender smiled at him when he said what he wanted. “Your boyfriend’s cute,” she said, as she poured the two drinks he’d asked for.
“He’s not my boyfriend.”
She raised an eyebrow. “Sure looks like it from here. He can’t take his eyes off you.”
Yeah, unfortunately, that was entirely mutual.
“It’s . . . well, it’s complicated.”
She winked at him as she set the drinks down and he stuffed a twenty-dollar bill into her tip jar. Too much, maybe, but she’d earned it, dealing with this crowd tonight. “Then maybe you should uncomplicate it.”
But he knew he wouldn’t be as he brought the drinks back to where Ren stood with their friends.
Ren took a sip and his face contorted in betrayal. “Water?” he hissed.
Seth shrugged. “You said you wanted a drink.”
“You knew what I wanted!” Ren looked like he couldn’t believe it.
“Water now, drink later,” Seth said and Ren rolled his eyes but he took a long sip out of the glass.
The water sobered up Ren some, but then Chase drew everyone back to the bar for a final shot, and there was no way that Seth could stop it.
That meant that by the time Seth and Ren walked out of the front door together, Ren was leaning most of his weight on Seth’s shoulder.
Definitely not a bad thing, if they were really going home together.
And from the handsy way that Ren kept shoving his fingers into the back pockets of Seth’s jeans, he definitely thought they were.
There was a taxi at the curb, idling and waiting for anyone who needed it, and Seth, who’d planned on finagling Ren’s address out of him so he could call an Uber, decided to just take it.
Seth helped Ren pour himself in, and then the driver turned his head towards them. “Where to?” he asked brusquely.
“Lorenzo,” Seth said, turning to the man next to him, his head lying on the back of the seat, a vacant smile on his face. “What’s your address?”
“Address?” Ren’s grin widened. “We goin’ back to my place?”
“Yes,” Seth said impatiently.
Ren tucked a hand behind Seth’s neck and tried to tug him closer.
Seth decided he was lucky that Ren hadn’t decided to go for his dick yet.
“Address . . . huh,” Ren drawled out.
The driver made an impatient noise, and Seth knew they only had a few moments before he gave up on them and ordered them out of the cab—and now that Ren was sitting down, getting up again was going to be difficult.
So, instead, he gave his own address to the driver.
He could always get Ren home tomorrow, and pour him into his bed. The couch in his living room was plenty comfy and it wouldn’t kill him to sleep on it for a night.
It would be so much tougher to not spend the night with Ren, even if all they did was sleep.
Ten minutes later, the taxi pulled up to his address.
“What?” Ren said, suddenly becoming aware of what was going on. He stared out the window at the house. “Where are we?”
“We’re going to get you into bed,” Seth said, shoving some cash at the driver, and wrapping a hand around Ren’s shoulders, tugged him out of the back seat of the cab.
“Bed?” Ren said, his eyes perking up.
Shit, that was clearly the one word he shouldn’t have said, because while he was halfway hanging out of the cab, Ren decided it was a perfect time to go for Seth’s cock.
“Oooph,” Seth said as Ren’s fingers brushed the front of his jeans, and even though he’d been soft just a moment ago, all it took was a possibility of Ren touching him, and he was hard as a rock.
Ren’s fingers slid down, cupping him, his teeth gleaming as he smiled. “Oh, yeah,” he said, “let’s go to bed.”
Double shit.
“Come on,” Seth said. He twisted his body, trying to move away from Ren’s hand.
He’d feel his hot palm pressed every time he closed his eyes, for a very long time to come.
That would have to be enough for now.
“Oh right,” Ren said, laughing now, “you like your privacy.”
“Yeah, let’s not get arrested for indecent exposure,” Seth grumbled as he finally tugged Ren free of the cab.
“Indecent exposure,” Ren parroted back as they walked up the front walk to the door of Seth’s house.
It was a small bungalow, cozy and quaint. Seth had loved it from the moment he’d seen it, and he’d spent all of his savings from his years in the military to buy it, the year he’d gotten out.
“Yeah, well, we don’t need that on top of everything else,” Seth said, typing in the code to the front door lock, balancing Ren with his other hand.
“What’s everything else?” Ren wondered, as Seth gently pushed him into the open doorway. “Is this your house? Did you bring me to your house?”
Seth chuckled under his breath at Ren’s questions, all running together. “Yes,” he said. “Come on, this way. The bedroom’s over here.”
“I didn’t know . . .” Ren said, “I didn’t know we were still . . .” and the hope in his face as he tilted it up towards Seth took his breath away.
“We’re not. You’re . . . going there by yourself. To sleep it off.”
Ren shot him a look full of promise. “With you?” he asked, biting his bottom lip, clearly trying to look inviting on purpose.
But Ren never needed to try. He was inviting when he was just standing there, looking blank-eyed.
Seth chuckled under his breath. Amused—but not really all that amused at all. “Not with me,” he said.
“You’re being so mean,” Ren said, pouting adorably.
It was proof of how far gone Seth was, because he’d never found pouting in any way or form adorable before.
“I’m being realistic,” Seth said, ruthlessly pushing down his feelings as he guided them both towards the master bedroom.
He’d been doing it for long enough that it felt like second nature, but it felt so much harder than normal with Ren.
Ren had been weaseling his way under his guard for six months now, and he’d been good and entrenched, even before the Jake experiment.
“So,” Ren said, leaning against the doorframe, probably trying to look seductive and accomplishing the task surprisingly well considering how much he’d had to drink, “this is your bedroom.”
“Yes,” Seth said shortly. Tried to see his room through Ren’s eyes.
The reclaimed wood furniture that he’d found in a little shop tucked away in a corner of Los Angeles, with its simple lines, and the dark green bedspread, smoothed out from when he’d gotten up this morning.
Everything was tucked away and neat, and had its place.
Everything except Ren, with his sensual eyes and his full bottom lip, teasing him.
“Looks nice,” Ren drawled out, gazing around, and Seth knew the moment his eyes fell on the bed, because they fucking lit up.
“Get comfortable,” Seth said firmly, “I’m going to get you some water and some aspirin. You’re gonna need it.”
“What, you don’t want to watch?”
Seth turned away, so Ren couldn’t see the naked hunger that he couldn’t hide.
Of course he wanted to watch.
He wanted to do more than watch.
But it wasn’t happening tonight, so he pushed away from the wall where he’d been standing, observing as Ren walked over to the bed like he owned it.
Owned him.
“I’ll be right back,” he said briskly.
Hoped, as he grabbed a cold bottle of water from the fridge and found the aspirin in one of his kitchen cabinets, that when he returned, Ren would be tucked away between the sheets, removing the temptation of him from reach.
But when he walked back, he saw Ren had switched on the lamp on the nightstand, filling the space with a soft, warm glow, he’d taken off his boots, and pulled off his white shirt, unbuttoning his jeans partway.
He was the picture of debauched elegance, all warm skin and dark eyes and flawless, slim muscles.
Perfection.
Seth bit his bottom lip so hard he tasted blood. The pain helped jerk him back to reality, away from the fantasy where he went over to Ren and kissed him and did everything to him that he’d fantasized about for six months.
“Come on,” he said, “get in bed. You’re dead on your feet.”
“Not that dead on my feet,” Ren teased. “Why don’t you come over here and find out?”
If he took one step closer, Seth was afraid he’d take a dozen. But his fingers slipped on the condensation of the water bottle, and while he wanted him badly, he also wanted Ren to be okay in the morning.
If he didn’t drink more water, he wouldn’t be.
It was just a few steps to put the water and pill bottle on the nightstand, but they still felt perilous, and after he set them down, Seth escaped right back to the safety of the doorway. “If you need anything,” Seth said, ignoring Ren’s suggestion, “I’ll be right outside, on the couch.”
Ren frowned. Like he didn’t quite understand. It could’ve been the booze, or it could’ve been so much more than that. Seth guessed it was the latter. After all, how could someone come to care for you if you never gave them the chance to.
“You could’ve made me sleep on the couch, if we weren’t sharing the bed,” Ren said.
“I could’ve, but what kind of man would that make me?” Seth said. “The couch is fine, anyway.”
Ren didn’t say anything, just looked thoughtful.
It was far easier to deal with than the seductive version of Ren.
“Goodnight,” Ren said softly.
“Night,” Seth said, and closed the door behind him, literally and metaphorically.
But the way Ren looked so confused, like he hadn’t expected Seth to do something as simple as offer his own bed even though they wouldn’t be sharing it, haunted him as he grabbed a water for himself, and found a blanket in the closet.
And as he arranged himself on the couch—which was pretty comfy, that was the one requirement Seth had made when he’d bought it, because Lennox had spent plenty of nights on it—he couldn’t stop thinking about what Ren had said.
For someone as brilliant as Lorenzo Moretti, it seemed impossible that he could see himself as only good for one thing.
Maybe it wasn’t so much an ingrained belief that Ren held, but a habit that died hard.