Big mistake, asking someone like me to do something like that. Especially when I’m desperate to distract myself from my reaction to Carter Willis.
Because I totally do. I tell them everything.
***
I wander through the empty parking lot hours later, waiting for my ride and chuckling at my own expense.
JD Green closed down a bar. What a wild man. And—stop the presses—he had a great time with a table full of interesting, attractive men. And one Fiona.
It’s still hard to believe that reality surpassed the gossip about the Finns. At least, it did if those two are anything to go by. Brady is practically a saint, and Wyatt’s a big talker with an almost obstinate naiveté, but a mushy, gooey center. They were funny, smart, personable… And the way they talk about their family with so much devotion? Who wouldn’t admire that? Imagine being part of it?
Speaking of things I’ll be imagining for the rest of my life… Carter was the best date I’ve had in years.
He wasn’t your date.
Semantics. Parts were touching, drinks were shared and ideas exchanged. In the fan fiction of my life, it was definitely a date.
He was quiet, but I don’t think it was because he’s shy or lacking in opinions. The man had a very expressive face, if you were paying attention. But he seemed content to listen to the conversation flowing around him, to let it wash over him while he observed.
He was observing you. Listening to you.
It was refreshing. Strange. A little suspicious.
I’m not used to anyone listening like they’re filing away my answers. Like what I’m saying matters.
It never has before. Full disclosure? Half the things I say are bullshit, the rest are answers to Trivial Pursuit: The Hollywood Edition. But he made me feel like I was revealing buried treasure when I told them how I’d harnessed my inability to stay out of other people’s business into a viable career. How I double majored in journalism and psychology. Why I turned down a more prestigious magazine’s offer to write for a local online publication instead.
He was interested in every word. And there were so many of them. My only excuse for talking so much is that his nearness drove me insane.
That and the constant touching. His leg against mine. His arm brushing my back or my side each time he shifted in his seat. Nothing I could point to as confirmation of flirting, but the possibility alone made sitting beside him feel like the world’s kinkiest foreplay.
I still don’t know that much about him. All I found out could fit into a frustratingly small beer glass. Originally from North Carolina, he’d chosen to retire after several decades in the service and he’d recently moved to town to work with Ken and Brady.
And he smelled like the woods. Fresh and clean and irresistible.
I can’t remember being attracted to an older man before, no matter how good he smelled. He’d been a Marine as long as I’ve been alive, so he has to have at least sixteen years on me, but my dick doesn’t seem to mind. It wants to see him again as soon as possible. So do I.
Not that I’ll get another chance. Somewhere between our exhausted bartender closing up and my last trip to the restroom, I lost sight of him before I could get his number.
That was my plan. What new guy in town would turn down a friendly digit exchange? It’s always good to have someone on your speed dial that can point you toward the best restaurant or most reliable dry cleaner. Someone you could call if you woke up in the middle of the night with the need to talk. Or, you know, have passionate, explosive sex.
I thought I was frustrated before, but it’s nothing compared to this. The need feels different now. Stronger. And it’s no longer a random itch anyone can scratch. Now it’s all about Carter.
“Finally.”
What the fuck? “What are you doing here? I thought you left hours ago.”
Instead of answering, Billy Ray surprises me with a chokehold that cuts of my air and drags me back to the side of the building. Fuck, he’s stronger than he looks.
“You got him?”
“Yeah,” Billy Ray grunts at the stranger as I struggle against him. “I thought he was never coming out. Probably had a few more dates to line up. Fucking fag.”
Fucking fag? This from the guy who kept asking me to blow him? Panic sends spikes of adrenaline through my veins and I lodge my elbow as hard as I can into his gut. That frees me, but only long enough for the unknown assailant to pin me against the wall.
“If you’d gone in to get him like I told you, it wouldn’t have been a problem.” He taps my cheek in a fast, stinging slap. “Stop squirming so I can talk to you, Green. You like to talk, don’t you? Got a way with words? I know you’ve been the one badmouthing me and convincing her not to come home. Did you really think I wouldn’t get her back?”