Chapter 12 John #3
The waitress returns with the shots, and before Chad can take another shot he obviously doesn’t need, I reach for both, slamming them back quickly without really thinking it through.
“Hell yeah! Tha’s more like it,” he slurs, the slushie and double marg probably catching up with him. I’m really glad I made him chug that bottle of water at the last spot. “Fun John might just make an appearance tonight after all.”
I snort, shaking my head as I stand to leave.
Chad trails behind quickly until he can catch up and interlace his hand with mine yet again.
We continue walking down the street, and when we have to wait at a crosswalk, Chad pulls me to face him.
I look at him expectantly, waiting for another outlandish suggestion, but it doesn’t come.
Instead, he smiles before leaning in to wrap his arms around my neck. On the middle of the street. On the strip in Vegas with hundreds of people around us.
“Chad, what the fuck are you…?” I start, unsure what’s happening right now as he stares at me.
“Shhh,” he says, dragging his hands down my chest before leaning into me and wrapping his arms around my waist as he pulls me in for a hug, resting his head on my shoulder. “So nice.”
I should obviously push him away. Forcibly take him off me. And I really do intend to do that, but maybe I’m more drunk than I thought, because even though I’m internally screaming at myself to put distance between me and this infuriating, sexy man, I’m somehow wrapping my arms around him instead.
It feels… nice? To hug someone. His casual intimacy is unlike anyone else I’ve ever met.
He told me he’s a touchy drunk, but he’s touched me a lot throughout this trip when he wasn’t drinking.
He put his hand on my thigh during brunch.
He tried to hold my hand to get me into the pool with him, he straddled me and laid his wet body over mine when he was totally sober.
He leaned into me on the way back to the penthouse, and sat next to me again at dinner.
So. Much. Touching.
He pulls back just slightly and leans in to kiss my cheek again. “I really like you, John. Maybe you’re what will make me happy.”
“What the fuck are you talking about?” I ask before I can stop myself. I shouldn’t care what he means. “You’re the happiest person I know.”
“Nah.” He shakes his head. “I’m happy enough.
But now I’m all alone while Blake is so happy and it’s all because of his sexy farmer man.
Maybe I need that too. Maybe I need a sexy farmer man like you.
You’re still a farmer, right? Even though you don’t look like one?
Like, you live out in the country where the farms are, so I think that counts? ”
Obviously there’s no way he means any of this. Or I’m misunderstanding his alcohol-induced ramblings. I ignore his question.
We’re still embracing each other on the street. “Chad…”
He blinks at me, cheeks flushed from alcohol and heat and whatever the hell he thinks is happening right now.
I clear my throat and try again. “You’re drunk.”
He nods. “Yeah, so what? That doesn’t mean I’m not right.”
“That’s not—you’re not—” I stop, taking a deep breath because my voice is not nearly as firm as it needs to be. “You don’t even know what you’re saying.”
“I know exactly what I’m saying,” he says, smiling as he lifts a hand to poke the tip of my nose. “I liked you before I was drunk, and I like you now. You feel… safe.”
Well, shit.
I shake my head. “That’s the alcohol talking.”
“Nope, it’s aaaaall me.” He smiles before finally stepping back to take my hand in his for what feels like the hundredth time this weekend. He keeps dragging me further down the street, and I say nothing because I’m at a complete loss for words.
Chad is… infuriating.
Confusing. But fuck, he’s also funny and kind. And sexy… and straight.
And I don’t care if he’s straight. It doesn’t affect me at all.
I think the whole point of his rant is he wants to find his forever person, and that sure as hell isn’t me. I don’t date, but that doesn’t matter because this is just a weird night with my best friend’s fiancé’s best friend. Why am I even giving myself this little pep talk?
“Hol-eee shit! I have an idea. Come on, lesssgo!” Chad shouts, and at this point, I honestly don’t think anything would surprise me. But I can’t stop my thoughts from circling back to Chad’s not-so-innocent sounding comments and touches. Could he be into me? There’s no way, right?
“Are you going to ask to see my dick again?” I deadpan as we walk past a familiar-sounding club. “Wait. Is this the gay club that guy was trying to get us to go to?”
We’re no longer walking as we stand in front of it. I’m not sure which one of us stopped, but Chad looks over to me hopefully. “Does you bringing it up and asking me mean you want to show me?”
“Well, are you ever going to stop asking?” I ask.
He smirks. “No. That doesn’t sound like me at all.”
I snort another laugh. At least he’s honest. Maybe if I show him, he’ll move on and stop talking about my cock in front of random strangers.
And maybe when he sees my piercings, and he treats the whole thing like some sort of sterile, clinical exchange, I’ll remember that he doesn’t actually want to see my dick.
He just wants to see the metal that’s adorning it.
“Fine. Here’s as good a place as any.”
I walk up to the bouncer, pay the cover fee for both of us and walk in.
I have no doubt he’ll follow me. The lights are dim and the music is loud, but I don’t care about any of that.
I keep going toward the back without another word, following the signs for the bathroom.
It isn’t all that late yet, and the club wasn’t as packed as I’m sure it will be in a few hours.
I push into the bathroom, holding the door open for Chad who’s right on my heels.
The lighting in here is bright enough, and a quick glance around confirms that this is a mercifully empty bathroom.
“Come on, go in there.” I nod toward a stall. The room might be empty for now, but that doesn’t mean it’ll stay that way.
“Oh my god!” Chad whisper-shouts as he goes into the largest stall at the end. “I can’t believe we’re in a bathroom at a gay club together!”
I stare at him blankly as I follow him and lock the door behind me, ignoring how that sounded and how excited it seems to be making him. Quite frankly, I can’t believe we’re here either, but I feel like there’s no going back now.
“Okay, Chad, here’s what's going to happen. I’m going to show you my piercings, and then you’re going to drop it, got it? I don’t want you to talk about them again.”
“Holy shit! You said them. There’s more than one. I knew it! Show me, show me!”
I take a deep breath, willing my cock to ignore my surroundings and the eager as fuck look on Chad’s annoyingly perfect face. This is clinical. I can’t get hard right now. I didn’t get hard when I got any of the piercings, and they were actually touching my dick. I won’t let it happen now.
No matter who it is I’m taking my cock out for.