25. Indiana
TWENTY-FIVE
INDIANA
Standing in the doorway of the office watching Lowen and Salem work is probably a new low for me, but fuck it. I act like a lost puppy around Salem, and nothing in me wants to stop.
“Are you his bodyguard now?”
Kit’s voice brings a smile to my face.
“Shut up.”
Kit chuckles. “It’s adorable. You’re so whipped. Not shocking though. He’s fun and definitely pretty.”
“Yeah.”
“Oooh, not even going to defend yourself?”
I turn to look at my friend. “About what?”
“I said you’re whipped. Not gonna deny it?”
Shrugging, I exhale. “Can’t. He tastes like candy and sunshine. You’d be whipped too.”
“Gah, lucky bastard. I’ve been striking out left and right lately.”
“Yeah? Where are you meeting guys?”
“Apps, bars. Whatever. It feels like…” His words trail off as he gestures vaguely. “I don’t know, man. It’s almost like I can’t find the right person to scratch my itch.”
“Are you still going after young dudes?”
He shrugs. “Youngish. I’m not looking to fall in love, right? I just need to bust a nut, and even that’s been harder than it should be. I keep meeting guys who want to smoke or play games first or call me Daddy.” He shudders. “I need a shirt that says ‘Don’t call me Daddy.’”
I laugh, shoving his arm. “It’s all the rage these days, I hear.”
“It is. The college guys are looking for sugar daddies. I just want to get laid.”
“I’m gonna go out on a limb here and suggest maybe aging up a bit.”
“I’m trying, but the thirty to forty group is lacking too.” He looks at Low and Salem for a second. “Although, your dream man walked right into the bar.”
The part of me that would have immediately jumped to say Salem isn’t my dream man is silent. I guess he is in a lot of ways. He’s definitely my physical type, and though he’s far from submissive and soft, his hardness melts whenever I get my hands on him. He challenges me and I kind of like it.
“Yours is out there somewhere, Kit.”
“Maybe. When are you guys gonna make it official?”
“What do you mean?”
“Dude.” Kit rolls his eyes.
“Seriously. I don’t know what you mean. We’re seeing each other and not hiding that.”
“When are you gonna lock him down, Indy?”
I pull my head back slightly. “I’m not? We like things how they are. No pressure, no commitment. It works for us.”
He nods, searching my eyes. “My mistake. ”
Before I can say anything else, voices from up front catch my attention, and Kit and I walk out to see what’s going on.
My face falls when I see the man talking to one of the construction crew workers. I remember him as Salem’s former friend.
“Can I help you?” I ask.
“Uh, yeah, I was looking for Salem. He told me to stop by.”
My chest tightens as heat spreads through me. And not good heat. The about-to-lose-my-fucking-cool kind of heat.
I turn on my heel and stomp down the hall and into the office. “Salem.”
His head snaps up from my tone. “Yes?”
“Your friend is here.”
“Friend?” His brow creases, then he nods. “Oh. I forgot. Thanks.”
He stands and breezes past me, but before he can get far, I grab his arm. “What are you doing?”
“Having coffee with Jackson. I’m allowed a break, right?”
“Why?”
He blinks rapidly several times. “Are you jealous again? After I told you about what happened with him?”
“Why the change of heart? I thought you didn’t like him.”
“I don’t, Indy. He called me last night and practically begged.” He pats my chest. “But word to the wise? I don’t like being micromanaged. I shouldn’t have to tell you every little thing.”
“You should respect me enough to tell me why you’re spending time with another guy.”
He narrows his eyes. “You should trust me enough to know you have nothing to worry about.”
I scoff.
“Besides, I thought we were just casual fuck buddies,” Salem continues, but his tone is bitter and pointed .
The challenge in his voice stirs the most basic part of me, and I grip the back of his neck, pulling him into me and crashing my mouth into his. He doesn’t resist, just opens his mouth to me, clawing my t-shirt.
After a few seconds, I break the kiss and press my forehead to his. “I’m such an asshole.”
“Sometimes,” he says, but his tone is light. “I’ll remind you that you’re the hottest man on the planet and I get to touch you. Do you think I’d be interested in anyone else when I can have you?”
Kit’s words rush back and now I think I get it. I can’t ask him to be exclusive though. He doesn’t want that. Do I?
“I’m sorry.”
“Thank you. It’s flattering in a way, but trust makes everything work, from friendship to… whatever this is.”
“I know. We’re not even exclusive, but I guess I don’t want to see you with anyone else, you know?”
“Nothing to see, handsome. Just coffee and talking about things that happened almost fifteen years ago. I agreed so I could see if maybe he’ll say something that’ll help me let it go.”
“That’s smart.”
He pats my cheek. “I’ll tell you about it when you come over tonight. I have the house to myself for a few hours.”
“I can’t wait.”
Salem pulls himself away, smooths his shirt down, and continues to the front. I lean back against the wall, feeling like an idiot. I definitely have some new and unusual impulses and thoughts when it comes to Salem that I need to work out before I scare him away. It’d be great if I could lose this fucking jealous streak too. Where is that even coming from?
I force myself to go into the office, instead of up front where I’ll get worked up watching Salem and his so-called friend. Kit and Lowen stop talking as soon as I enter, and I’m pretty sure I was the topic.
“What?”
Lowen raises his hands. “Nothing. You good?”
“Yeah.” I drag a hand through my hair. “I need a distraction. Give me a task.”
Lowen’s face lights up. “Field trip to New Onyx? I found some amazing chairs, but they’re expensive so I’d like to see the quality in person. If they’re worth it, we can make them last for years.”
“Let’s do it.”
“Let me call the guys.” Kit pulls his phone from his front pocket.
Just a few minutes later, all six of us gather near the front of the bar. Salem is gone, of course, but so is my head. All I can think about is this Jackson dude trying to make a play for Salem, and him being filled with a sense of nostalgia and considering it. What I can’t figure out is why I care so much. It’s not like I haven’t had my share of fuck buddies and juggled them depending on my mood. Shouldn’t I want Salem to feel free enough to do whatever he wants?
The thought turns my stomach, and when I blink, I’m sitting in Low’s SUV, completely unaware of how I got here. Whoa. I am checked the fuck out.
“Do you want to talk about anything?” Low asks softly.
“No.” I glance out the window. “But thanks.”
“Of course.”
I wouldn’t even know where to begin other than admitting that Salem has me fucked up.