ADDICTION
Roberta Blablanski
Addiction can destroy your life. But if you destroy addiction, can you get your life back?
At twenty-eight, Owen Fredrikson is homeless, unemployed, and grappling with drug addiction. Before he let drugs take over his life, he had a pretty sweet job working the front desk of a fancy hotel, his boss was his best friend, and he had a loving fiancé.
After three years together, thirty-three-year-old middle school math teacher Dex Atterbury could no longer ignore Owen’s demons. Dex made the tough decision to part ways, leaving Owen destitute and Dex heartbroken.
When tragedy befalls Owen and Dex is called to his side, Owen has some tough decisions to make. Both men must determine how far they are willing to go to rebuild the life they once shared.
Can Owen conquer his addiction while facing his demons? And can Dex open his heart and trust Owen again?
Content Warnings:
Depictions of drug addiction, drug use and abuse, and drug withdrawal
Scenes of violence
Copyright © 2019 by Roberta Blablanski
Addiction
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are a product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, places, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
This book is for ADULT AUDIENCES ONLY. It contains sexually explicit scenes and graphic language which might be considered offensive to some readers.
Cover Design: Designs by Morningstar
Editing: Charlie Knight
Proofreading: Amanda D. Brown
For Eliott.
Thank you for knowing when to kick my ass and when to cheer me on.
FOREWORD
Some creative liberties have been taken in the interest of moving the plot along. Any inaccuracies are purely for entertainment purposes.
Addiction addresses a sensitive, yet important, topic—drug addiction. It’s not a subject to be taken lightly, and I hope I have done my characters justice. Research can only go so far, and I may have gotten some things incorrect. Any oversight or inaccurate portrayal on my part is not intended to be hurtful or malicious.
If you or someone you know is battling substance abuse issues, help is out there. Please visit Narcotics Anonymous for more information.
PROLOGUE
DEX
DEX FIDDLED WITH THE BUTTON on his shirt sleeve. The ballroom of the hotel was filled with single gay men of varying age and build. Some were dressed casually in jeans and t-shirts; others were more formal in suits and ties. Dex fell somewhere in the middle in dark jeans pressed with sharp creases that accentuated his long legs and a dark blue dress shirt that could have been tailored to fit his torso.
He wondered, and not for the first time, why he let Patrick talk him into signing up for this speed dating event. With his luck, he’d run into one of his student’s relatives. How awkward would it be if he made a connection with one and had to see his student all the time outside of school? Would he feel comfortable being affectionate with a partner in front of a kid he would have to teach for the rest of the year?
That was one downfall of being a teacher. Dex had taken to doing his grocery shopping on the other side of town to avoid those awkward run-ins with parents. It never failed that someone would approach him wanting that day’s homework assignment because their kid didn’t pay attention in class. Or one wanted to have a parent-teacher conference in the middle of the cereal aisle.
Since starting his teaching career eight years ago, dating a student’s relative hadn’t come up, thankfully. That was always a possibility in the back of his mind, though, and one of several reasons he didn’t date much. He wouldn’t be happy as a built-in tutor for a love interest’s kid. As much as he loved his job, separating work from his personal life was important. Dumping a guy because he valued Dex’s math skills more than his other shining qualities would be uncomfortable.
Slow down there, Dex. You’ve already hitched yourself to someone’s wagon, and this thing hasn’t started yet.
The line moved forward, putting one other person between him and the registration table. He could still turn around and head home to veg out on the couch with one of his favorite cooking shows. He could have a nice, quiet night alone with no pressure to rub shoulders with dozens of strangers and make small talk with men he wasn’t interested in.
Keep an open mind. He could chant that mantra over and over in his head enough, and perhaps it would come true. Power of persuasive thinking or some such.
It was his turn to check in. The man seated at the table requested Dex’s driver’s license, which Dex handed over reluctantly. His blonde fauxhawk shook with the movement of his head as he spoke to Dex. “Are you ready to find that special someone tonight?” he asked as he scrolled through a menu on his iPad and checked Dex’s name off a list.
“Something like that, I suppose.” Dex wasn’t committing to anything. He promised Patrick he would participate, not that he would be enthused about it.
The man handed him a name tag with a number printed on it in large font.
Thirteen. Well, this is off to a promising start.
Another man ushered him to the right side of the room and left him with a folder and instructions to mingle. He briefly scanned the men around him and, not seeing anyone interesting enough at face value to strike up a conversation with, he opened his folder. Inside was a scorecard with even numbers two through twenty-six listed in a column with a blank space next to each for what he assumed was comments.
He knew from his research that he would use that chart to make notes on the men he would be chatting with. At the end of the event, he would submit the numbers of the men he wanted to connect with further. Any matches would result in the exchange of contact information a few days later from the event organizer. From there, he guessed he would have to do the work to pursue a relationship with his match. Or matches, if he were lucky.
In the other pocket of the folder was a short, stubby pencil and a list of rules and suggested topics to discuss as well as questions to ask during the dating rounds. He had reviewed all of this information beforehand--five times, in fact--but read the sheet now as if it were his first time. Damn, he was nervous.
The combination of several different types of cologne, the loud murmuring of random chatter from the event’s participants, and his nerves were giving Dex a headache.
“Come here often?” A very tall man sporting a thick, dark gray beard with a matching mustache curled up at the ends broke Dex from his anxious thoughts. “I’m Jaysen, number seven.” He pointed to a nametag pinned securely to his red Mr. Rogers sweater.
Hipster alert.
Dex suppressed a snicker and gestured to his own name tag. “Dex, thirteen. And no, I can’t say I come here often.”
Jaysen arched an eyebrow. “Lucky number thirteen! You’ll have all the evens clamoring for some time with you.”
“All the evens?” Was that some sort of speed dating code?
“We’re the odds,” Jaysen waved his arms to indicate the group of men on their side of the room, “and they,” he pointed to the opposite side of the room, ”are the evens. Evens get the cushy job. They sit at their tables like kings while we odds rotate around the room and do their bidding.”
“Oh, right. Evens and odds. I knew that.” He didn’t do all that online research for nothing.
The man at the check-in table now stood a
t a podium at the back of the ballroom. He tapped on the microphone to get everyone's attention. Jaysen clapped Dex on the shoulder and turned to the host.
“Greetings, gentlemen! I am Samuel, your host for the evening.” Samuel took an exaggerated bow and tipped an invisible hat on his head. “I'd like to welcome you to the first of what I hope will be many gay dating events.”
The crowd gave a subdued cheer, Jaysen being the loudest with his exuberant whoop!
Samuel gave the men a disappointed frown and then winked to take out the sting. “Is that all the excitement we’re going to get this evening? You guys aren’t eager to meet your hook-up for the night? Or your one true love?” He came around to the front of the podium and continued his motivational speech. “You each have expectations for tonight, and we’re here to meet or exceed them. We want everyone to be comfortable and have fun. There’s no pressure here.
“The bar scene and hook-up apps aren't for everyone. There's a good chance you're here tonight because you're looking for a real conversation and not a random wham-bam-thank-you-sir encounter.”
“Is this guy gonna let us get to the good part anytime soon?” Jaysen whispered in Dex's ear. Dex shrugged, but he secretly agreed. The sooner the dates started, the sooner he could be home.
“Everyone with an even number, please take a seat at the table that corresponds to the number on your nametag. While you guys get settled, all you odd numbered folks form a single line in number order.”
Jaysen squeezed Dex's shoulder and went to find his place in line as the men on the odd side of the room shuffled into order. Dex ended up being the last one in line behind a man wearing a neon green shirt with yellow birds emblazoned all over it.
Who would buy a shirt like that? What kind of store would sell a shirt like that?
Once the crowd settled, Samuel held up a silver bell and shook it, enticing a teeny jingling sound. “You'll have six minutes with each guy. Use the materials provided in your folder to keep track of your dates. The bell will signal the end of your current date, and you'll begin your next date. Any questions?” He eyed the men before nodding and taking his place back behind the podium.
“Okay, my odd-numbered guys can take a seat at a table when I ring the bell again, and we’ll start the first date.”
Dex’s line shuffled forward, the first man taking his place at the table at the opposite end of the room. That put Dex at a table where a rather plain-looking man in a business suit sat. The bell jingled, and Dex pulled out the chair, resigning himself to getting through the night with his sanity intact.
Samuel rang the little bell, and Dex plopped down in the chair. He smiled and nodded at the businessman facing him.
Here goes nothing.
* * * * *
By the third date, Dex was cursing Patrick and his terrible idea. Why, again, did he let Patrick strong-arm him?
His fourth date appeared just as disinterested as he was, but one look at him and Dex was intrigued. The guy looked to be younger than Dex by at least ten years. Dex was a terrible judge of age, so he didn’t place his bet on being accurate. Dating someone barely out of his teens was not something he’d entertain, but he could tell this guy had more potential than the other guys so far.
He snuck a peek at the guy’s name tag. Owen.
Owen’s plain white t-shirt would have been ordinary and unmemorable on anyone else but was refreshingly bright on his slender torso. His shoulder-length blonde hair fell in waves around his face like a halo, and his light gray eyes held mischief behind the boredom. His left arm was decorated in a colorful tattoo sleeve that Dex wanted to explore. Which was strange for Dex; he usually found tattoos to be a turnoff.
Owen was spinning his tiny pencil around on the surface of the table, his chin propped up on his other hand. Clearly, he’d rather be anywhere but here. Dex sympathized with him way more than the guy could ever imagine.
“Fifty-four minutes.”
Owen looked up from his steady concentration of the spinning pencil. “Huh?”
“Less than an hour left of these dates, and then we’re released from this torture,” Dex elaborated.
Owen chuckled. “Are you here against your will? Shall we summon a rescue party?”
“Can we do that?” Dex looked around the room as if searching for a way out. “We might be forced to partake in speed dating for the rest of eternity if caught. Is it worth the risk?”
Owen let out a hearty laugh. “I can’t speak for you, but there’s a strong possibility Sammy would chain me to this chair.”
Now that Dex was getting a good look at Owen and his expressions, he put Owen at somewhat older than his first impression but still younger than his own thirty years. “Samuel, the host? You know him?”
“We work together. There was a last-minute cancellation, and I owed him a favor. Apparently, these things don’t work very well with an odd number of people. So, here I am.” A shrug brought Dex’s attention to Owen’s boney shoulders.
Dex felt a twinge of disappointment. Owen might not be single. Pity, Dex was beginning to have fun. “So, you’re not looking for your ‘one true love’ tonight?”
Owen rolled his eyes. “Hardly. I’m just here to do my time and, hopefully, make it home in one piece.”
Time to dust off the rusty flirting skills and turn on the charm, Dex. “That’s too bad.” He reached over and stilled Owen’s hand spinning the pencil. “I was hoping we could get to know one another better.”
Dex crossed the fingers of his free hand under the table and made a silent wish that Owen was unattached and as interested in Dex as he was of Owen. Dex continued clutching Owen’s hand, waiting with bated breath for his response.
Owen stared at Dex for several seconds. His eyes seemed to darken from silver to a dark, stormy gray as he appraised Dex. The bell rang, signaling the end of the date and the end of his time with this man who intrigued him.
Dex stood to make his way over to the next table, and before he could thank Owen for the date, Owen got up from his chair, grabbed Dex’s hand, and said, “Let’s go.”
The jolt of Owen’s pull in the direction opposite from where he had intended to go surprised Dex. The disappointment he started to feel at letting Owen go was replaced by the rush of excitement and adrenaline at the possibility of what was to come.
Disguised by the chaos of the shifting dates, Dex allowed Owen to lead him to the front of the ballroom. Their dating materials were left abandoned at their table. They slipped out the doors and into the hotel lobby where Owen walked him over to a cluster of potted ficus trees.
“Wait here.” Owen’s hand was soft and warm in his, and Dex reluctantly let go.
He watched Owen approach the reservation desk, greet the woman behind the counter, and slip into the door directly behind her. What was going on here? Never one to break the rules, Dex began to sweat. It was apparent Owen knew the hotel employee well enough to enter employee-only space, but what exactly was he doing and why did he leave Dex essentially hiding behind these plants?
In less than a minute, Owen returned wearing a light blue long-sleeved dress shirt unbuttoned over his white t-shirt and a black jacket over his arm. Dex then noticed the matching black slacks and polished black shoes. Owen must work at the hotel. Dex wanted to slap his own forehead for imagining Owen executing a grand heist or something equally ridiculous.
Owen grabbed his hand again, and the pair headed out to the parking lot. The chilly air was a welcome reprieve from the stuffy, cologne-scented ballroom. Dex inhaled deeply and turned to Owen. “Where to now?”
OWEN
The man standing next to Owen checked all of his boxes: the classic tall, dark, and handsome with a nerdy vibe thrown in. Owen could picture him as an accountant or a banker. Or maybe a lawyer, one that specialized in environmental law. Definitely not the greedy-spouses-fighting-over-vacation-properties kind. Something studious and prestigious that required suits. Lots and lots of sexy suits with ties in an array of color
s to showcase his lively side. Ties that could be used for extracurricular bedroom activities.
Yum.
Owen did appreciate intelligence and playfulness in a man.
He had this gorgeous man at his whim. He couldn’t pass up this opportunity to keep Dex in his company for as long as Dex would allow.
Thinking fast, he suggested, “Coffee shop on Third?” Their hands were still linked, palms pressed together, shoulders touching. Actually, Owen’s shoulder was touching Dex’s bicep due to the height difference. A wave of desire passed through his body at the thought of this larger man leaning over him and enveloping him.
When Sammy approached Owen earlier in the day about filling in for a last-minute cancellation of a dating participant, Owen declined right off the bat. He had gone round and round with Sammy when Sammy first broached the idea with the hotel manager of organizing such an event. He had needed people to sign up to show Mr. Berger that there was interest, and Owen fit the demographic he was aiming for – single, attractive, and, most importantly, gay.
Hordes of lonely men vying to no longer be single at all costs? No, thanks. Owen preferred to get his desperation with a shot of tequila and loud club music.
Sure, there was interest, just not where Owen was concerned. A few of Sammy’s other friends had already added their names to the list. “You’ll know me and Hiruto and Liam, and you’ll get to meet all kinds of hot men. You’ll actually get to talk to them before finding a dark corner to swap bodily fluids.”
Sammy was exaggerating when it came to Owen’s promiscuity. Sure, he liked to flirt and dance at bars and clubs in the city; after all, he was young and wanted to have fun while he could. He rarely took anyone home, though; one-night stands weren’t his favorite, and he tended to be discriminate when choosing bed partners. He could count on one hand the number of guys he’d actually done more than necking and groping with. In five years, when he would turn thirty, he’d settle down and become one of those men seeking a long-term relationship. For now, he was happy with casual and not with dating games that forced faked connections.
Addiction Page 1