24. Chapter 24
Jesus fuck, Beau looked good. How did Beau look so good?
Maybe it was the three vodka sodas Colt had already had, or maybe Colt was just down real bad.
Either way, Beau’s dark button-down was rolled up to show his forearms, and Colt wanted to sink his teeth into him.
Or maybe be bitten. Didn’t matter. What mattered was that Colt’s feet were moving, and Beau was watching him, and Colt knew he looked good, and he was warm from liquid courage.
“You came.” He stopped close enough to Beau that he could smell him, that rich cologne mixed with shop scents. Colt turned his smile on Joyce before Beau could answer. “Lookin’ good, Joyce. Real cougar energy.”
Joyce laughed and pulled him down to kiss his cheek. “Throw that charm somewhere else, Sunshine.”
She took her martini and walked away, and Colt heard the guys cheer when they saw her.
“How many drinks have you had?” Beau asked, leaning down so he could talk without raising his voice.
“Just two. And a half,” Colt assured him. He took another sip and felt himself leaning slightly into Beau's heat. “Coach says I can't afford a hangover when we're gonna be on the track prepping every day.”
“Good.” Beau's voice was a low rumble Colt felt in his bones. “That's right.”
Shit. These pants were way too fucking tight to hide what that voice saying those things was about to make happen. Colt willed his dick to stand down. Which wouldn't ever work with Beau standing so damn close. Fuck. What the fuck.
He could not, under any circumstances, let this man know what he was doing to him. So he downed the rest of his drink and tossed Beau a smile as he put the empty cup back on the bar top.
“My turn to whoop Liam's ass at pool,” he said, even though he had literally no idea whose turn it was or if anyone was even still playing. “Thanks for coming, Beau.”
Then he escaped before he could fuck everything up. Something had to give. This was getting out of control fast. It had been months since he'd slept with anyone. Maybe that was his
problem. Hard-up and alone, sweaty with a stupidly attractive man every day. Of course he was riled.
Maybe he just needed to get it out of his system.
As he approached the guys, one of the girls who had joined them early on caught his eye and gave him a big, pretty smile. She was curvy with thick thighs and long hair, and Colt made sure when he smiled back it had both dimples and lots of promise.
Perfect.
***
Beau watched Colt practically run from him and hid the smile he couldn't help behind his glass. Wow. He was obvious, actually, Beau was a little ashamed of himself for not noticing sooner.
Maybe he just hadn't wanted to.
He stared at the way Colt’s ass shifted under his jeans and then told himself to stop right after, tearing his gaze up just in time to see Colt fix someone else with that big, dimpled grin.
When he followed where Colt was looking, he found a pretty young girl wearing a tiny skirt and a tinier top.
She was looking at Colt with the kind of look that meant she wanted something more than a drink.
Beau was still watching as Colt approached and leaned down to talk into her ear. As one of his hands touched her wrist, and she blushed.
“You just gonna sit here and let that happen?” Joyce asked as she sidled up next to him.
Beau hummed and finished his whiskey. “Let what happen?”
“Oh, please.” Joyce took his glass and put it on the bar. “You're gonna let some young girl paw that boy right in front of you?”
“I'm his coach. Not his keeper.” Beau shrugged and caught the bartender's eye so he could order another round. “S'not my business.”
His eyes kept wandering anyway as that girl put her hand on Colt’s chest and stepped closer. Joyce slid a whiskey into Beau's palm. Colt’s hand came around to rest on the girl’s lower back.
“Not your business because you've been willfully blind for months, maybe.” Joyce came to stand in front of him, and he tore his gaze away from Colt in time to watch her chuckle. “That boy has been panting after you since the second he stepped foot in your shop. You were just too blind to see it.”
Beau scowled. “He has not. Hero worship isn't the same thing as wanting someone.”
He caught movement, and flicked his gaze over Joyce's shoulder. That dimpled grin and all of Colt’s focus were on the girl. Leaning back against the pool table, he was busy pulling her between his legs.
“Maybe not.” Joyce kept talking even though Beau wasn't looking at her. “But anyone with eyes could see the way it's changed. That boy wants to be your boy.”
“Seems like what he wants is to get fucking laid,” Beau snapped as Colt’s hand wandered down over the curve of her ass.
Joyce laughed, and Beau turned his glare back on her. Entirely unbothered, Joyce poked him in the chest with her finger. “He wants to fuck wanting you out of his system. I'd bet my diner on it.”
“Quit your meddling, will you?” Beau took a long drink of whiskey. “It ain't gonna happen.”
“Mhmm,” Joyce said, pitching her voice low. She patted his chest. “We'll see, honey.”
Then she wandered off to where a couple of her employees were playing darts, and Beau had nothing left to do but watch.
He watched as Colt laughed his charming laugh, as he pushed the girl's long hair off her shoulder. He watched as she pressed closer, probably rubbing her chest all against Colt’s.
And he was still watching when Colt gently held the back of her neck and leaned down.
For a second he hovered with his lips near hers.
Teasing, maybe. Or asking permission. Beau wasn't sure, but he was sure that as they pressed their lips together, he had to set down his glass.
He couldn't look away, either as Colt gripped her ass and pulled her closer. Even from here, Beau could tell there was tongue.
And the worst part, the fucked up core of the thing, was that watching the way Colt kissed this girl he'd just met with such intensity was getting Beau riled at the same time as he was getting pissed off. He wanted to rip that boy away and throw him over his shoulder. To carry him out and—
And what?
Hadn't he already decided this couldn't happen? It was good that Colt was turning his attention elsewhere, good that he was going to take that girl home and fuck her senseless and stop thinking about Beau.
Right. Good.
***
Olivia was pretty. She was funny. And she was pretty damn hot, okay, so it wasn’t like Colt wasn’t having a good time. He liked flirting, he loved kissing, and he liked the way a soft body felt against his. It was fine.
But that’s really all it was. Just fine.
All the ass grabbing, the way she was starting to subtly grind against him, her hand creeping up his shirt—it should be hot. He should be getting ready to stop the free show they were putting on and take her home.
Instead, he opened his eyes, way too tipsy to lie about what he was looking for. Or who.
Beau was right where Colt had left him, leaning against the bar with his whiskey glass by his elbow and looking supremely fuckable.
And he was watching Colt. It was too dark for Colt to get a good read on his expression, and Beau had an amazing poker face anyway.
Colt knew what he wanted to see, though.
Jealousy.
He wanted Beau to see him playing tonsil hockey with a hot, curvy girl and burn with jealousy. Because maybe then he’d drain his whiskey and make his way over. Slow and deliberate, like everything Beau did. Maybe he’d grab Colt by the back of his neck and call him a slut and take him home and—
Oh.
Colt made eye contact with Beau. He was sure of it.
And that, coupled with that hazy fantasy he'd just dropped into, was getting him a hell of a lot hotter than Olivia was. His dick was starting to sit up and pay attention, and Olivia noticed. She made a soft, pretty noise and shifted her hips until she was rubbing against Colt’s increasingly obvious problem, and Colt's breaths were getting shorter, and Beau was draining his glass just like he had in Colt’s fantasy.
Except, unlike in his fantasy, Beau set down his glass with deliberate care and left. Took that slow, measured walk Colt had been imagining, but in the wrong direction.
And the second he was gone, Colt’s fire died.
Gently, he pulled back from the kiss.
He pushed her hair back from her face. “I'm sorry. I shouldn't have started this. It's—I've got a race coming up, and I need to keep my head in the right place, you know?”
“Like how some athletes go celibate before a game.” Olivia nodded even though she still looked sort of dazed.
Colt would congratulate himself for not hurting her feelings if he wasn't so busy being pissed that he couldn't even have a one-night stand properly. “Yeah. Like that.”
Licking her lips, Olivia stepped back and gave him a once-over. “Shame. But I understand. It was a hot kiss, though.”
“Yeah,” Colt agreed, remembering where his mind had spiraled. “Thanks for understanding.”
As she walked away, Xavier came and threw his arm around Colt’s shoulders. “Bruh. How'd you fuck that up? She was down bad the second you walked in.”
“Yeah.” James came up on his other side and watched Olivia go back to her friends. “Her friend told me she's been following you since your arrest. She was down bad before you walked in.”
“Maybe Rourke's a shit kisser,” Xavier mused as he took a long pull on his beer.
“Nah, I saw his moves.” James nudged Colt with his shoulder. “He coulda had her in the alley out back.”
“Maybe Rourke is just down bad for someone else,” Xavier offered, and Colt turned to glare at him. Which only made Xavier's grin widen. He reached out and pinched Colt’s cheek. “You're so cute when you're embarrassed.”
“Yeah, you know what's not cute?” Colt pointed across the room at Liam stumbling up onto the stage where they were starting karaoke. “He's gonna puke on that stage. Is he even old enough to drink?”
James laughed and finished his lemon drop. “In three months he will be.”
“Yeah, someone slipped him some White Claws,” Xavier said. “Who knew he'd be such a lightweight?”
Colt snorted. “Everyone. Go get him before he falls off the stage, guys.”
With a dramatic sigh, Xavier grabbed James by the arm and they made their way over to Liam, who grinned and waved right before he tripped over his own feet standing still.
The others had covered Colt’s tab, so Colt took the distraction for what it was and slipped out.
He caught sight of Joyce flirting with some woman, a hand on her arm, and he grinned at her.
She waved and blew him a kiss as he left.
It wasn't much cooler outside than it was in the bar, but the air smelled fresh. Like creosote. It was three weeks into monsoon season and they hadn't seen one drop of rain, so he hoped that meant the dry streak would pass soon.
“?Oye, pendejo! ?Dónde vas?”
Camila was sauntering across the parking lot in a black dress and strappy heels.
He changed direction and met her halfway. “It was loud, and I'm kinda tired. Boss left, Joyce has her a-game on, and I don't wanna see Liam get sloppy.”
“James was buying him drinks, huh?” Camila rolled her eyes. “That idiot. Every freaking time.”
“Yeah. He was about to serenade us all with Shania Twain when I left.”
Camila searched Colt’s face for a long second, reading him like she always did. “You good, babe?”
“Always.” Grinning and hoping it looked real, Colt tucked his hands in his pockets.
She didn't believe him, but she didn't pry either. “You wanna come to my place and watch movies?”
“Yeah.”
They walked arm in arm to her car, and Colt tried not to think about how he might very well be ruined for anyone other than Beau right now.