Chapter Fourteen
Three days had passed since James had rocked then subsequently ruined Nolan’s world.
He’d basked in the afterglow of their kiss, the mutual orgasms, and the fulfillment he never believed was possible. Then James had rushed away like someone had lit him on fire.
Nolan stared at the screen of his computer at work, wishing he could dive inside it.
Or somehow scrub his mind of the memories.
Since that night, he’d been spending longer at work just to avoid James.
They had exchanged few words, most of them so awkward he wanted to scream, and his OCD tendencies were amped up to eleven due to the stress.
The impulse to control his surroundings had escalated to an unhealthy level.
This was why people didn’t sleep with their roommates.
He should’ve just gone on the damn date with Franco, but fuck. James had rushed in, fire in his gaze, an intensity that unmade him, and a date had been the furthest thing from his mind.
He’d been so close to everything he’d yearned for, only to have it come crashing down.
After he’d bailed on Franco, the man had decided to pull back, which was probably for the best. He deserved to be more than a distraction for someone.
They’d still probably see each other around at Whipped or kink events and be friendly, but Franco had clearly picked up that Nolan’s focus wasn’t with him.
Nolan arranged a few more elements on the graphic for the gaming and kink extravaganza.
Meg had called Roxie, Cal, and Jas, the owners of Tabletop Tavern, and they set up a meeting for next week to hammer out the details.
But in the interim, Nolan made sure they’d be ready to pull the trigger with advertising the second they solidified their plans.
He also had about a dozen client graphics to create for his freelance work, so he wasn’t short on things to do.
Thank fuck.
He glanced at the time, and his stomach twisted.
Already past his normal shift hours, but damn, he didn’t want to go home.
If James were there, he’d have to face the discomfort of an even worse rejection than the first one.
Because the first time James had turned him down, it had sucked, but Nolan could nurse his feelings.
This time, Nolan had touched the sun. He’d tasted what being with James could be like, and fuck, it was everything he’d ever longed for.
Then he was thrust into darkness.
They needed to have a conversation, but what could he even say? If James wasn’t willing to talk to him, if he found Nolan so repulsive, how could they keep living together? Just when the loneliness eased by coming home to someone, this happened.
“Okay,” Meg said, stepping in front of him and crossing her arms. “Since you’re still here working when you should be heading home, you’ve just recruited yourself to join me.”
“For what?” Nolan asked, arching a brow. With Meg, that could mean a myriad of options.
“We’re going to check out Euphoria,” Meg said. “Pay a friendly visit to Carter where we make a few things clear.”
“Oh, so a mafia shakedown, yeah?” he asked. He tried to grin, but damn, he was in a mood.
“Stop with the painful fake smiles, babe,” Meg said. “You don’t have to tell me what’s going on, but I know you could use the distraction right now. You’re avoiding going home, right?”
Nolan heaved a sigh, his chest spasming. “That obvious?”
“I was paying attention,” Meg said. “Out of anyone in the area, I might be the one person who has the insight you need. Apart from the source, obviously.”
Nolan swallowed hard. She wasn’t wrong. Not only was she James’s ex but also had continued to be a play partner with him and his husband until…well, probably until James’s husband passed. Fuck. “Yeah, let’s take a field trip. Can we stop at the empanada truck along the way back?”
“That was a guarantee. I need meat in my mouth,” Meg teased.
“Don’t get enough of that here or at home?” Nolan joked as he shut down his desktop, slipped his phone and wallet in his pocket, and snagged his messenger bag.
“Mm, never enough,” Meg said. “Tristan’s been out for work more lately too. We’ve been considering opening up to dating again rather than just playing with others.”
Nolan nodded. He’d known Meg long enough to meet her ex-girlfriend and one of Tristan’s ex-partners too. They’d always been polyamorous, but they were anchor partners, sharing a house and a life together that was unshakeable. “You know you’ll get snatched up in a hot minute.”
Meg smirked as she led the way down the hall and out into Whipped’s main area. “Pretty sure I’m the one who’ll be doing the snatching.”
“Hot,” Nolan said. They wound their way to the front door and stepped outside. “I’d kill for some primal action. It’s been too long since I’ve been pinned and taken.”
He shivered at the thought. The closest to feral he’d experienced in a long while had been a few days ago. The weight settled over his shoulders again.
“Mmkay, you’re back to looking like someone kicked your pup,” Meg said as they walked in the direction of Euphoria.
It was about a ten-minute trek from Whipped, so of course Meg would take advantage of the time.
The sounds of the city filled the air with honks, shouts, and screeches of tires.
The scent of asphalt and the breeze whirled around him, and he basked in the comfort.
“James kissed me,” he said. “A few days ago. Then we blew each other…and he bolted. We’ve barely talked since.”
Saying it out loud hurt him, as if the situation showed just how unwanted he was. He had taken a stupid risk by succumbing to his emotions, and fuck, he should’ve known better than to let his heart take the wheel.
Meg grabbed his shoulder and pulled him to a stop. “James initiated?”
Nolan bit his lower lip. “Yeah.”
Her brows drew together, a sharp expression on her face. “He hasn’t been with anyone since Andrew. Won’t even play with Tristan and me, and we were playing far before him and Andrew even got together.”
Nolan stilled. He’d known that James had said he wasn’t capable of more, but maybe this was what he’d meant. He hadn’t run off in disgust—no, he’d been shaking.
“Have you guys spoken since?” she asked, nudging him to keep walking along the sidewalk.
Nolan shook his head. “Not apart from the occasional head nods, grunts, and heys. It’s been agony.”
Meg let out a low hum. “James is probably beating himself up. Even before he married Andrew, he always carried the weight of the world on his shoulders. The guy’s spent his whole life taking care of others, but he never lets anyone help him.”
Nolan’s chest twisted tight. Sounded like the man he’d been tumbling headfirst for.
He’d noticed the way James lit up when Nolan made him coffee or happened to have dinner prepared.
Doing small things for him scratched an itch that had long gone unfulfilled.
James gave so much in return—understanding, steadiness, a shoulder to lean on—everything Nolan had wanted in someone.
Except in crossing the line into physical, they’d stepped too far.
“What do I do?” Nolan asked, shoving his hands in his pockets. He couldn’t put himself out there again, not when he already tried. And chasing seemed futile.
Meg let out a slow, steady breath. “Depends. What are you looking for?”
Nolan chewed on his lower lip. “Probably more than is possible, if I’m honest.”
“Mm, James has iron control. He doesn’t just chase anyone, and he’s an excellent judge of character.”
“You would say that,” Nolan teased, jabbing Meg in the side with an elbow. Somehow, hearing from her had lightened some of his spiraling thoughts. She’d tossed him a rope, and he clutched onto it with all his might.
“You know I’m going to say you need to talk, right? Whether he initiates it or you do,” Meg said. “Both of you are excellent communicators when you need to be.”
“But I live with him,” Nolan said, scrubbing his face. “If he can’t do more…”
“Then you guys figure things out like adults.” Meg shrugged. “James makes plenty. If he needs to find an apartment, then he finds one.”
He was afraid of that. James living in his house was both heaven and hell. James filled up the lonely spaces there and gave him the companionship he’d craved. And yet the longing for more had intensified by the day, until it had bubbled over.
“Oh look,” Meg said. “We’re here.”
Nolan wrinkled his nose as he glanced down the street.
The red-and-white Euphoria sign was lit up in the distance, just opening at this time of night.
While it competed with Whipped in some ways, based on what he’d observed through socials, their styles felt vastly different.
Whipped leaned hard into education, clear boundaries, and consent culture, while Euphoria oozed flash and “dark” vibes.
Meg took the lead, strolling right up the door and walking in.
The second he stepped inside, the heavy scent of cleaner prickled his nose.
The place wasn’t that different from Ouroboros, with dance floors, hallways leading to what he assumed were different rooms, and an overreliance on black, but something about it made his skin crawl.
Maybe it was the online attacks from the folks here or knowing the types of clientele they allowed through their doors, but Nolan felt unsettled.
A few bartenders manned a long, polished bar backlit in neons, and a handful of patrons gathered at the seats.
The hour was a little early for the club night portion to be in full swing, but based on the backlit sign at the bar, it was a Trance Night, though whether that meant the music or hypno kink was unclear.
“Do you see Carter?” Nolan asked as he scanned the place. Not that he knew the guy they searched for. Most of the pictures online of this fucker were masked, for mystique or whatever, but the guy’s history seemed oddly scrubbed.
“Easy way to find out.” Meg winked and marched up to the bar. A lanky young bartender, likely barely twenty-one, looked up at her. “Hey, I’ve got a meeting with your boss.”
Her brows furrowed. “Let me get him. I think he’s in the back.”
Meg leaned against the bar, getting comfortable in a way only she could. Nolan crossed his arms instead. This felt like entering hostile territory given the amount of shit the Euphoria crew had already caused.
“What are we planning on asking him?” Nolan wasn’t quite sure of the trajectory of the meeting, and a few of the guys at the stools along the bar were shooting them looks. He wasn’t sure what type—interested or sour.
“Oh, just a polite fuck off.” Meg showed teeth with her grin. “We’re both business owners in the area. We can be respectable.”
The “or else” lingered in her words, and Nolan loved her for it. This was the best distraction he could’ve had.
The bartender returned, followed by a broad-shouldered guy with short-cropped brown hair and bulging muscles—the sort that seemed more for glamour than anything else.
He oozed douchebag from his pores, and the pastel polo screamed yacht club money.
Of course this would be the fucker who ran Euphoria.
The moment his gaze landed on Nolan and Meg, his features twisted into a sneer.
“Here early for the trance night?” His grin was sleazy as he scanned over Meg for longer than average. He ignored Nolan. “I was wondering how long it would take for you to come and check out the club.”
Meg lifted her chin and fixed him with a terrifying stare. “I’m here to tell you to stop the games. Trolling our socials, the purposeful scheduling, sending your cronies to harass our business. We can coexist here, but not with your petty tactics.”
Carter’s eyes grew dark. “Listen, sweetheart. You might be used to your spot as top dog in the area, but those days are at an end. It’s not my fault people want something new, something more exciting.”
“Call me sweetheart again and I’ll bury you,” Meg said, her voice dark and firm. Nolan’s hands balled into a fist in defense, even though he’d always been more of a lover than a fighter.
Apparently Carter wasn’t used to people standing up to him, because his shoulders squared, and his eyes flashed in surprise.
His face turned purple in an ugly expression.
“Your days are numbered, Meg.” He all but spat her name.
“Whipped is a cute concept, but I’ve got years of running local scenes, and your hold on this one is over.
I know what people want, and it’s not safe, tame, or sanitized. ”
“Seems you have a listening problem,” Meg said, unruffled. Even still, her words simmered with a deadliness that made Nolan shiver. “Back off. Stop interfering with our business and focus on your own. This is the last time I’ll warn you.”
“Or what?” Carter pushed, his arms crossed over his chest. “You’ve got no teeth. I’ve run into Dommes like you before, and damn, you’re all just begging for a stronger hand.”
Meg let out a sharp bark. “Wow, you’re a walking cliché. Don’t test me, or you’ll find out.” She glanced at Nolan. “We’ve said our piece. Let’s leave.”
“This isn’t over,” Carter said, even as Meg turned and started striding to the door. Nolan’s back prickled at the feel of the man’s glare drilling into them.
The second they stepped outside, Nolan sagged.
“What was the point in that?” he asked as Meg set off down the sidewalk.
“I wanted to see what we were working with in person,” Meg said. “He comes from money, clearly spoiled, and he’s not used to getting told no. He also has the arrogance of someone who’s done this before.”
“You got all that from the conversation?” Nolan asked as they meandered in the direction of the empanada truck.
“Rolex on his wrist and pastel polo,” Meg said.
“And he couldn’t keep his temper. A slight push, and he lashed back.
But the needling way he’s been doing this, the fact that he’s got someone computer savvy in his pocket, all those signs indicate this isn’t the first time he’s bullied his way into controlling a scene.
I’m just wondering what ones he’d been in before. ”
“Internet search wasn’t turning up with anything,” Nolan said. “I tried that early on.”
“The best person to help us is that roommate of yours,” Meg said, giving him a look. “The one you need to talk to.”
Nolan wrinkled his nose and heaved out a sigh. “How dare you. I was lured in with the promise of empanadas.”
Meg knocked her shoulder against his. “We’ll go get them. In all seriousness, take the time you need to.”
That was the issue though…the longer this went on, the more Nolan became convinced that James wasn’t the problem.
He was.