While I’m not in the habit of lying, I’m honestly not sure whether I mean it or whether I’m that eager to change the subject. Beau taps his bottle against the rim of my glass and bails on me to kiss his boyfriend, and it’s an easy thing I envy more than is fair. I had that for so long. Hell, I think I’d found it before Beau and Adrian were born.
And I think I need to walk away from it now.
I drink the last of my beer, and I’m not opposed to having a third I can enjoy more, but the restroom calls, and I slip away. When I’m finished, I don’t even make it a full step past the door before there’s a hand at my hip to push me against the nearest wall, light eyes serious in the dark.
“Are you okay?” Darren asks.
“Didn’t we discuss this already?”
“Barely.”
I cover his hand with mine and look over his shoulder to where we’re being very generously ignored. “Beau knows something is going on between us.”
“And you’re mad.”
“Mad?” I shake my head and search for words I might not have. “No, I’m notmad. There’s just not much to say about it, right? ‘Yeah, Beau, remember when we were down in WeHo and Darren got horny and wanted me to stay with him after the rest of you went home? Well, he got off with some other old man, and I wondered what that must’ve been like, so when I crashed my Harley, and he offered to be my first—'”
I trail off because I’m explaining myself about as terribly as expected, and Darren’s thumb has found its way under my shirt, as usual, arcing over the bare skin there.
“Was that the first time you wondered what it would’ve been like? That night in WeHo?”
“No.”
It’s not a surprise, or it shouldn’t be by now, and Darren doesn’t react or take it any further. Instead, he gets curious about something else, and if anyone else needs him, he doesn’t seem to care.
“Why did you come here in the first place? You’d been married to a woman. I’m guessing you hadn’t frequented gay bars together.” He tilts his head and sighs. “You could’ve gone anywhere.”
“It won’t make sense.”
“Try me.”
Having this conversation here and now is all wrong, but Darren is as sincere as I’ve ever seen him, and I can’t say no. Maybe he doesn’t understand how serious this is. And maybe I can lie to myself about that another day. Far away from where we stand, Supine starts in on a cover of a Bill Withers song that’s made meache for years, and I clear my throat.
“I went to other places first. Michelle had made me promise I wouldn’t stay at home every night. She didn’t expect me to date right away, but she made me swear I’d at least go out and be around people, so I did.” I frown for a split second and zero in on the feeling of his thumb, still so gentle against me. “But going out with friends was awful. They either tried to make me forget or help me remember, and all of it was suffocating. So then I went out alone, and I was okay for a little while.”
“And then?”
“And then a woman approached me, and she was beautiful and funny, but I—I couldn’t talk to her. She just kepttrying. Flirting. Touching me. I thought my entire body was about to turn inside out, and if I could have literally run from her, I would’ve. And when I finally got out of there, still buzzing with the sensation of her hand on mine, I knew I couldn’t do that again, so I decided to go to a gay bar instead.”
Darren smiles softly. “You’ve had a hundred men try here, too. They’ve always flirted with you, even at the beginning.”
“Sure. But none of them made me think of her,” I say. “And if I wasn’t going to take any of them home, my criteria for company didn’t have to be any more complicated than that.”
“You took me home.”
“You invited yourself there.”
“I want to invite you to my house,” he murmurs.
“When?” I ask. “Tonight?”
“Mmmm.”
“You don’t have anywhere else to be?”
He smirks, and I’m close to kissing it off him. “I’m not big on obligations, actually.”
There are things I could say about that, but Darren steps back and pivots toward the bar. My stool is waiting for me, and I’m still open to the idea of another round, but I don’t follow him back, setting my sights further away when I spot another open seat. I ignore Beau’s unasked question on my way—Darren’s already busy with several drinks—and don’t stop until I’m next to Drew Barrett. He’s turned his back to Riley so he can see the band, and I do the same as soon as I’ve been able to say a silent hello, taking the stool Supine’s lead singer had occupied the last time I was paying any attention.