Chapter Nine #2
Sinking to one knee at the park by the lake. Afternoon sun gleaming bright and golden. Andrew’s eyes alight with joy. The lump remained in his throat.
“Good luck,” James murmured. “I’m sure he’s going to be thrilled.”
God, he was so broken. Why couldn’t he get through a day without stepping on a minefield?
“We’ll see,” Parker said. “Chances are, he’ll find a way to brat about it.
” A giddy grin lifted Parker’s lips, a sparkle in his eyes.
He was so in love. Yearning struck James like a thunderclap.
He’d had that once. The love, the thrill of coming home to a partner he adored.
Who adored him in turn. The past year without Andrew and the year before of his declining health…
all of the struggles made those memories feel like a lifetime ago.
“Looks like you’re thrilled about the opportunity to handle him,” James said with a soft grin.
The Muni screeched to a halt, and the doors opened.
“This stop is ours,” Parker said, and he hopped off first. James quick-walked after him, eager to leave the conversation behind. Even after all this time, he hadn’t identified what would set him off—what would vault him to the past.
When they reached the end of the block, a dingy yellow sign for the House of Swords stood out.
The bar was a piece of history from the Prohibition Era, and given the changes during his absence from San Francisco, he was grateful this relic still stood.
Parker pushed the wooden double doors open, and James stepped inside, the chill ambiance washing over him.
Jazzy music poured through the speakers, and the dim lighting created extra shadows and a calmer environment.
The place was all class, from the brassy chandelier to the polished hardwood bar, and the green vinyl barstools that accompanied it matched perfectly. It looked like they’d be at the bar tonight, as he had already spotted a few familiar faces.
Micah sat with Meg, Tristan, Pixie and…Nolan.
The sight of his roommate made his breath hitch.
Nolan hunched at the bar, his bright, glossy green hair in a low bun, revealing his elegant nape.
He wore a flannel with the sleeves rolled to his elbows, shredded black jeans, and stomper boots in a grunge or punk sort of vibe.
Today, eyeliner made his gorgeous dark eyes pop, and James licked his lips instinctively.
Wow. He looked goddamn edible.
Lust pumped through him hot and fierce—the sort he’d been experiencing stronger and stronger with each passing day. Some moments, it felt like being healed.
Others, he wanted to drown in guilt, unsure he might ever feel normal again. It was unfair that he could keep on living while Andrew couldn’t.
“You both look like you need a drink,” Meg said, fixing her gaze on him and Parker.
“A guy at work also happens to be one of Euphoria’s cronies,” Parker muttered. “Even at my job, I can’t escape those fuckers.”
“Ew, you should slip ghost peppers into his food,” Micah said.
“Next you’ll be suggesting fire,” Tristan said. His chestnut hair was pulled into a ponytail, and his tight black shirt and black slacks showed off his lithe figure. He and Meg both wore goth-chic when dressed up. “A clear sign you’ve been working alongside Fin for too long.”
Nolan met James’s gaze, and a bright and brilliant grin spread on his features. “Hey, roomie. Come sit over here.”
James’s heart thumped harder as he moved to the empty seat at the end by Nolan.
As much as he was more than comfortable with Meg and Tristan, and he enjoyed getting to know Parker more, something about Nolan drew him in.
The man had quickly become a bastion against the storms in his mind, and he would take any port he could find.
The vinyl barstool creaked as he sat down.
“Didn’t realize you’d be here,” he said to Nolan.
“Disappointed?” he asked, his voice light as if he were unaffected, but James knew better.
“Relieved,” James said, wanting to erase the words as soon as he admitted them. The sentiment was true though. “Means the trip back won’t be as lonely.”
Nolan’s expression flickered, and James regretted his backtrack. Fuck, he was far too in his head today.
“What’s up, assholes?” Fin’s voice echoed through the area as they marched up to the bar. “Did you start eating wings without me?” Fin’s hair was a bright purple, their outfit lumberjack casual with flannel, just like Nolan’s.
“They mean hi,” Ollie said, offering a wave. Fin’s younger boyfriend was a sweetheart, and a big, broad-shouldered mechanic.
“Hey,” James said, seizing the distraction and nudging Nolan with his knee. “Parker mentioned you’ve been dealing with online trolls?”
Nolan slumped forward. “Ugh, don’t remind me.”
“Do you want me to take care of that?” he asked. “Whether it’s blocking the IPs or figuring out who’s behind it?”
Nolan clutched his nape. “I don’t want to inconvenience—”
“I’m asking,” James said. “And I want to.” Nolan had done so much for him in a short time—offering him a place to live, small things like making coffee or running the dishwasher, and…hope.
“Yeah, fuck,” Nolan said, a vulnerability in James’s eyes that he wanted more of. “It’ll free me up to figure out how to elevate this newbie event.”
The spark in his mind turned from a flicker to a flare. “You mentioned there’s a new gaming place around here, right?”
Nolan sat up from his slouch. His deep brown eyes widened, and his lips pursed, as his mind had latched onto the statement. “Tabletop Tavern, yeah.”
“That’s where we came from,” Fin called over from a few seats down. “Sloan, Ezra, and Kai are finishing up a Magic match, and then they’ll be over too.”
“Do you think they’d be interested in doing a pop-up game at our newbie event?” Nolan asked. His posture had shifted entirely—his back straight, a slight smile tugging at his lips. Warmth permeated James. He’d done that. He was capable of more than wreckage, sadness, and depressing conversations.
“Wait, that’s brilliant,” Meg said, appearing between them. “The crossover between kinksters and tabletop gaming is high. And if people are curious but nervous about coming to something that’s solely kink-centric, that would help ease newbies in to mingle.”
“I’d love to get into a game again,” James said. “I’d be willing to run one.” Saying that out loud cost him a little, like the slice of a few papercuts, but the admission was worth it.
“Fuck yes,” Fin said. “I’ve been begging for a game here for years, but I don’t have the patience to DM.”
“You don’t have patience period,” Parker called over. Fin lifted their middle finger.
“We can have it at the house,” Nolan offered. “I haven’t had anyone over in a while.”
Meg’s brows lifted as she glanced between them and then met James’s eyes.
He caught the drift that this was a big step for Nolan.
Unsurprising, given how much the OCD flares affected him.
However, a small, easily explained outburst paled in comparison to dealing with a partner dying a slow death from disease.
His scale of what he could tolerate had become irrevocably altered.
“I’ll message anyone interested,” James said. “We can set something up. I’ve had an interest in running a Monster of the Week sort of game.” Plus, if he avoided anything like his abandoned campaigns, maybe he could dodge the emotional bombs.
The bartender swung by, coiffed hair, black vest, and rolled up sleeves. “What can I get you?”
“Whatever IPA is on tap,” James said. “And I guess I’ll try the wings.”
“Jeremy, you king, get me a basket of wings,” Fin called out. “Oliver is starving. Wasting away like a Victorian orphan waif.”
The bartender’s lips quirked. “We’ll get them out fast.” He poured James a beer, set it down, then stepped through the double doors, presumably to the kitchen.
James took a sip of the beer, letting the liquid settle in his veins. This was light-years away from how things had become in Sacramento just a few months earlier. He found himself stuck in a loop of work and haunting quiet in his old home.
Now, he was now surrounded by laughter, fun conversation, and safe people.
Even though he still felt like he was pressed against glass sometimes, watching rather than participating, the sensations around him were there, albeit muted.
However, around Nolan, cracks had begun to form in the glass.