He winks and returns to his table, where he’s greeted with cheers as he distributes the drinks. I turn back to Bobby, who’s still watching the firefighters with undisguised interest.
“You’re incorrigible,” I tell him.
“I prefer ‘opportunistic,’” he corrects with a grin, turning his attention back to me.
I shake my head, amused despite myself. “So, your online business. How’s that going?”
Bobby takes a long sip of his drink. “OnlyFriends? It’s going well. Really well, actually. The subscriber count keeps climbing.” He twirls the straw in his blue monstrosity. “But I’m looking to collab with someone. Solo content gets repetitive after a while, you know? Viewers want variety.”
I hold up a hand quickly. “That’s about as much detail as I need, thanks.”
Bobby rolls his eyes. “You’re such a prude. It’s not like I’m making porn.”
I raise an eyebrow at him.
“Okay, fine, it’s a little porny,” he admits. “But it’s tasteful. Artistic, even.”
“I’m sure it is.” I drain the last of my whiskey, the alcohol warming my chest. “I need to hit the bathroom. Be right back.”
I slip off the barstool and navigate through the crowd, finding the hallway that leads to the restrooms. As I wash my hands afterward, I catch my reflection in the mirror. I look tired, the kind of bone-deep exhaustion that comes from more than just long hours at the hospital. There’s something else there too. A restlessness in my eyes that wasn’t there before.
Before Jacob.
I splash cold water on my face, trying to wash away the memory of his body under my hands. The way he responded to my touch. The sounds he made. The look in his eyes when he came undone.
We parted amicably last night, though the awkwardness was thick enough to cut with a scalpel. Neither of us mentioned what happened on the bench. I focused on his shoulder, explained the therapy plan going forward, and we agreed I’d come to the Knockout gym next week to watch him train. Professional. Clinical.
Except nothing about it feels professional or clinical anymore. Not the way my heart races when I think about seeing him again, or how I’ve caught myself wondering what his lips would feel like against mine.
I’m not gay. At least, I never thought I was. But Jacob has cracked open something in me that I didn’t know existed, and I have no idea what to do about it.
Shaking these thoughts away, I dry my hands and head back to the bar. As I approach, I see Bobby chatting with the firefighter he’d pointed out to Cain earlier, the one with the glasses. They appear to be exchanging information, Bobby typing something into his phone. The firefighter says something that makes my brother grin, then notices me approaching and gives a quick nod of thanks to Bobby before rejoining his crew.
I slide back onto my stool, eyebrows raised in question.
“Don’t look at me like that,” Bobby says, slipping his phone into his pocket. “It’s not what you think.”
“So you didn’t just convert a straight guy in the ten minutes I was gone?”
Bobby sighs dramatically. “I wish. He was asking about the Labubus. Wanted to know where to get one for his niece.” He shrugs. “I gave him my number in case he has questions. Strictly professional Labubu consulting.”
“Uh-huh.” I smirk. “And the fact that he’s exactly your type had nothing to do with it?”
“He’s everyone’s type,” Bobby counters. “But sadly, like Cain said, straight as an arrow. I tried my signature charm on him, but it didn’t work.”
“Which naturally means a person is straight.”
“Naturally,” Bobby says, ignoring my sarcasm. He finishes his drink and stands. “I’m bored. Let’s go somewhere else. There’s a new club downtown I want to check out.”
I follow him out of the Rusty Anchor, the cool night air a welcome relief after the warmth of the bar. As we walk toward Bobby’s car, my thoughts drift back to Jacob. Is he at the gym tonight, pushing his body past its limits? Is he at home, alone in that sparse apartment? Is he thinking about me at all?
I shake my head, trying to clear it. This isn’t me. I don’t obsess over patients. I don’t cross ethical boundaries. And I definitely don’t spend my Friday nights wondering what a man I barely know is doing.
But as Bobby chatters beside me about the club we’re heading to, all I can think about is Jacob’s face when I touched him. And how much I want to see it again.
10
Jacob