“All the ladies love my Trick.” Grady pinches Trick’s cheeks together. “But look at this face … why wouldn’t they?”
My thoughts exactly as I take in my handsome friend in his usual black attire, tats on display. Grady looks like a fashion queen; I wonder what he thinks of his partner’s selection of clothing for the occasion. I notice he’s wearing a thin dark guyliner tonight that makes his eyes double in intensity. It’s definitely been too long since I’ve touched him, or myself; I’m feeling too warm on this cool evening.
“Oh, there’s Trent! Darby, I must steal your man; he just has to meet Trent.” Grady pulls Wyatt away.
I face Trick and we both look each other over then make eye contact again.
“Wyatt’s young.”
I shrug and take a sip of my drink. “Grady’s old.”
Trick grins. “Older, yes.”
The awkwardness of the moment grates at my nerves. I want to wrap my arms around him, bury my nose into his neck, and feel at home again, but I don’t know if that’s allowed here with Grady and all their friends.
“Think you’ll see him again?” Trick crosses his arms over his chest.
“Wyatt?” My emotions override my commonsense. “I hope so. Did you get a good look at him?”
The muscle in Trick’s jaw twitches. “That dress looks amazing on you.”
I gulp back my shock, not expecting that compliment from him. “Thank you. You don’t think it’s too short?”
Trick’s eyes explore my legs. “Depends on the effect you’re going for.”
I chug down the rest of my martini, needing to numb the nerves that keep firing every time he looks at me. “Well, since you thought I needed a date for the weekend, I suppose I’m going for the spread-me-wide-and-fuck-me-hard effect.” Oh shit! That did not just come out of my mouth. Sadly, it’s not the first time those words have breached the parting of my lips … it’s just been a few years.
Hiding my own shock behind a fake smile, I look up expecting to see Trick’s mouth hanging open or him smirking with amusement. Instead, he looks like he could kill something.
The empty martini glass in my hand gets replaced with a full one, but I’m so focused on Trick I don’t see who does it. I imagine the staff here know to never let the VIPs mingle with empty glasses.
“Why are you looking at me like that?” I throw back my martini like a cup of water.
Trick grabs my glass and hands me his. “I think you’ve had enough.”
I take a sip of his. “This is awfully watered down, what is it?”
“Water with lime.”
Then it hits me. I’m on call tonight. Shit! I take down the rest of his and signal to the waiter for another water. “You’re distracting me. I’m on call tonight and shouldn’t be drinking.”
“I’m distracting you?” He laughs, shaking his head which only infuriates me that much more.
“Yes, you’re distracting me. You and the women hanging all over you, and Grady acting like it’s no big deal. The way you look at Wyatt, the way you look at me … It’s all fucking distracting me!” Oh god … where is all this coming from? I’m self-destructing right here, right now. Someone make it stop!
A pocket of silence surrounds us. My skin burns crimson from the glaring eyes all over me.
Trick’s a statue—unreadable eyes, lips set in a firm line.
“Is everything okay?” Wyatt’s hand rests on my back.
I clear my throat and blink away the emotions. “Everything’s fine. I-I’m not feeling well; I think I should go.”
“Oh … okay, I’ll get your wrap.” Wyatt takes the empty glass from my hand.
“Wyatt, darling!” Grady calls across the crowded patio.
Wyatt looks at him then back at me. He shrugs with a sad smile, then taking my hand leads me back inside and down the stairs. I make one last glance back at Trick. Still nothing.
“Stay,” I say while snaking my wrap around my shoulders.
“What? No, I came here with you.”
I shake my head and smile. “Really, I’m going home and going to bed. You should stay … you’ve earned it.”
Wyatt glances back up the stairs with a tense, contemplative look. “Are you sure?”
“Positive.” I kiss him on the cheek. “Thank you, maybe I’ll see you around.”
*
I have my driver stop for electrolyte water and snacks on the way home. The person back at the bar is not me, or maybe it is. God! With Trick in my life, everyday feels like a near-death experience—watching myself from outside my own body.
I blame Trick, which is ironic that I’d blame my friend who doesn’t drink, on my irresponsible behavior with alcohol. But I do. I blame him for robbing me of my self-control, my ability to see clearly and think clearly. I thought it would get better over time; I thought seeing him with Grady would change everything, but it didn’t. The rational part of me wants to make its case for my part in everything too. I knew he was gay, but chose to get involved anyway—the sleeping together, the masturbating. Where did I really imagine this relationship going? But right now, I’m in pain and no amount of rational thinking is going to ease it.