Past, Present

by A J Lange

  And then Gray’s fingers were scrambling for purchase on Zane’s scalp, tugging his mouth back to his, igniting a familiar, inexhaustible hunger that was always, always, returned. They broke apart only to breathe and Zane wished they didn’t need even that, who needed oxygen when Gray’s mouth was on his and his hands were everywhere, pulling at Zane’s clothes and rumpling him, although Gray was still, always, the one who needed rumpling.

  “Zane,” Gray whispered against his cheek. “God.”

  Zane smiled, loving that he had done this. He had reduced Gray to monosyllables, to trembling hands and hard, breathless brushes of mouth on skin. “I needed to say it. I thought I was going to start shouting it to the whole room if I didn’t get you out of there and all to myself.”

  Gray chuckled, leaning back and straightening Zane’s hair, combing it back into place where his fingers had forced it into sexy disarray. “I fucking love you, you ass.”

  Zane quirked one eyebrow. “And here I thought you were the one with the gilded tongue.”

  Gray smiled, the most beatific expression Zane had ever seen on his face. “I’ve been in love with you for a while, Zane.” Zane’s heart constricted tight in his chest and he suppressed a shiver. “I had this whole plan for how I wanted to tell you.” Gray wrinkled his nose. “It might have involved flower petals.” He kissed Zane’s forehead. “And your naked body.”

  Zane squirmed, porny images immediately jumping to the forefront of his imagination.

  Gray grazed his lips down Zane’s cheek. “And a lot, a lot, of tequila.”

  Zane snorted. “Baby, you know me so well.” He tipped forward to brush his tongue across Gray’s upper lip. Gray caught it and sucked it into his mouth until Zane was panting again, wanting.

  “I love you, Zane. Sometimes I think there’s never been anyone, could never be anyone for me, but you.”

  Zane’s pulse fluttered wildly at the words and his chest swelled, helium filled. “Me too,” he whispered gruffly.

  Insomuch as Zane would have gladly dragged Gray from this monstrous house and these monstrous people right fucking then, they forced themselves to leave the office a few moments later. Zane knew that the rest of the evening would pass excruciatingly slow, but he was peaceful, nerves gone.

  Zane Nolan was in love. Who would have thought?

  Chapter 11

  “Gray, why don’t you get your,” Gray’s mother paused, for the first time meeting Zane’s eyes, “your friend a drink.”

  Zane met Celeste Sloan’s gaze with a steady, unflinching one of his own. He didn’t know whether to feel proud or disgusted when she was the first to look away. Especially since as soon as Gray left to find him a beer, she too walked away, leaving Zane standing in the middle of a group of hostile strangers. This, he figured, had been Celeste’s plan all along, and it was probably a really good thing she lived in Maine and wouldn’t be a regular visitor. Not that he could picture Celeste Sloan in their living room anyway.

  He swallowed hard and wondered when his living room had become their living room in his head. “Great,” he muttered. Now his chest was tight and his heart was fluttery and he was feeling downright woozy imagining Gray there, in his bed, in his kitchen, in his life, every day, forever. Holy shit.

  Zane was savvy enough to recognize that he was having his first ever brush with the M word. And other than feeling like he might puke from the sheer, overwhelming sense of yearning the idea gave him, it didn’t scare him nearly as much as he might have assumed. Which, in turn, scared him shitless. Now he could really use that beer, and his eyes scanned the crowd for a familiar dark head. He moved to a wall near the patio door where there were fewer people and he didn’t have to keep up the pretense of eye contact.

  So far, he had managed to survive the before-dinner cocktails and the dinner itself (a ‘quaint, old-fashioned barbecue’, otherwise known as rich folks eating middle-class food), and he just had to make it through the after-dinner drinks and schmoozing and he was home free. Maybe, he smiled to himself, he could convince Gray to ditch early and then Zane could take him home and start to bring a couple of his fantasies about that red tie to life.

  He leaned against the wall (which he was positive would have garnered him an icy glare from Celeste Sloan had she been acknowledging his existence, which she wasn’t, so it didn’t matter), and stared absently at the elaborate ceiling of the ballroom. It was painted with a sky scene and reminded him of pictures he had seen of European cathedrals. The mansion, as it turned out, belonged to Gray’s oldest brother, Luca. Zane never did catch exactly what it was that Luca did for a living (and the guy’s creepy death stare made the hair stand up on the back of his neck so he was keeping his distance from that), but Luca's wife was one of those supermodel types who stared vacantly at Zane while eating her lettuce leaf during dinner, before knocking back an entire bottle of champagne all by herself in under an hour.

  Michael, the next eldest brother, was an attorney, but approximately nineteen seconds after Zane shared that his brother Tanner was also a lawyer, the entire conversation was aborted when Michael simply turned and walked away.

  “Douchebag,” Zane muttered now, remembering.

  “See, I could tell you were perceptive the first time I met you.” Zane turned to find Harry grinning at him from behind an extra large bottle of red wine and two glasses. “Need a little pick me up?”

  “Fuck, yes.” Zane sighed in relief.

  Harry chuckled. “I’d say something reassuring like they’re not good in social situations or they’re really not as bad as they seem,” he winked. “But I’d be lying.” He handed Zane the glasses and popped the cork on the bottle. Zane had never been a wine fan, but since Gray had apparently gotten waylaid somewhere else, he’d take what he could get.

  “So, you come here often?”

  Zane choked and Harry patted his back, hard. “Easy there, tiger.” Zane glared, still coughing, but the other man threw an arm around his shoulders and tugged him toward the door. “Let’s go for a walk.”

  Zane let himself be pulled outside, after scanning the crowd fruitlessly for any sign of Gray. At least the back yard was less intimidating than the front, with a pool and pool toys visible through a wrought iron gate. Zane tried to imagine Luca floating on a foam noodle and failed. Harry flopped onto one of the pristine white lounge chairs lining the patio before patting the one next to him seductively. Zane snorted, thinking what the hell, and stretched out beside him. They drank in silence for several moments, Harry judiciously refilling their glasses as needed.

  “You know Collin is here, right?”

  Zane’s head swiveled. “What?” He sputtered, gripping the armrest, hard.

  “Yeah,” Harry waved his nearly empty glass toward the house. “In there. Saw him talking to Gray earlier, you should probably be on the alert for shenanigans of the sexually deviant kind.”

  Zane scrambled to get off the chair. “What the fuck is he doing here?” His head spun and he fought for balance when he stood. Maybe he had drunk more wine than he thought.

  Harry shrugged. “I brought him.”

  Zane clenched his fists to prevent from ramming one of them through Harry's smug, smiling face. “Why the fuck would you do that?”

  Harry sat up, carefully placing his empty wine glass on the ground. He rested his elbows on his knees and looked at Zane seriously. “You know, you’re not doing Gray any favors if your master plan is to fuck and run.”

  ‘Hey,” Zane protested, head spinning from the rapid twists this conversation was taking. “You don’t know the first thing about me.”

  “No, I don’t. But I’m more of a fuck ‘em and leave ‘em kind of guy myself and I think I’ve seen you at the monthly mixers.”

  “Yeah, well, you’re wrong.” But he wasn’t, not really, and it made Zane intensely uncomfortable to admit it, even to himself. In the very, very beginning, Zane hadn’t been sure what the hell he was doing with Gray; more than once he had assumed this whole t
hing was temporary. Hell, even now, even after offering words Zane had never told another soul outside of family, words Zane had never felt for anyone else...well, there stubbornly remained a tiny niggling worry that it was all going to go pear-shaped.

  Harry nodded, seeing the truth in Zane’s eyes. “Look, all I’m saying is, figure your shit out. Gray is gorgeously, hopelessly in love with you, if you haven’t caught on, and I will hunt you down if you screw him over.” Harry watched Zane thoughtfully. “I also wanted you to have the opportunity to view your principal competition in action.”

  Zane was mollified, somewhat, at that. Although he certainly didn’t need Harry pointing out any differences between him and Collin; Zane was capable of doing a fine job of that all by himself.

  Seeing the wheels turning in Zane’s head, Harry held up a hand. “Now don’t go twisting your panties in a knot just yet, Zane. I only meant that Collin is going to come at him hard and fast. He wants him; he’s always wanted Gray.” Harry lowered his voice. “God only knows what Gray ever saw in him, I think the guy’s an arrogant prick, but what can you do? In any case, he knows exactly how to get under Gray’s skin and I have a feeling he’s going to be making an offer that will be pretty hard for Gray to refuse.”

  Zane watched Harry with renewed respect. “And you’re telling me this because...”

  “Because I want you to beat the smug fucker at his own game. Fuck him, he had his shot. Gray deserves better.” Harry stood and retrieved the empty wine bottle. “I just haven’t made up my mind yet if you’re ‘better’.” He laughed. “Now I’m going to go find my date. She’s a stripper and you’re welcome.”

  Zane cocked an eyebrow, wondering if he would ever be able to follow this man’s logic.

  Harry winked. “I didn’t want you to be the most embarrassing thing Mother had to deal with tonight.”

  ◆◆◆

  Zane found Gray standing in the absolute last place he had hoped to find him, next to a man who could only be Collin and in the middle of a full on belly laugh. Zane’s stomach soured at the sound, bold and free and carrying over the voices of the other guests. He fought his first instinct, which was to plant his fist in the middle of Collin's handsome face. And he was handsome, the bastard. Goddammit.

  Carrying himself with an inherent grace, Collin had no qualms about standing closer to Gray than Zane was comfortable with, or leaning his blonde head far too near Gray’s as they spoke. But Zane also couldn’t deny the very obvious light in Gray’s eyes when he spotted Zane approaching, and although Collin seemed all too willing to disobey the rules of proper proximity when you’re not in a fucking relationship anymore, Gray resolved everything by claiming Zane, possibly in the most overtly possessive gesture Zane had ever witnessed from him, pressing in close and placing a warm hand low on his back while he made introductions.

  Zane vowed to himself that Gray was getting the hottest fucking blow job of his life in return, just as soon as they made it out of this train wreck.

  "Collin, this is Zane. ” Gray’s lips were lifted when he met Zane’s gaze, a secret smile that Zane couldn’t decipher, but he thought it might have meant ‘Don’t worry, I love you’ and ‘Be civil, you moron’.

  Zane held out his hand, pleased to find it was rock steady when the other man grasped it in a firm shake. “Nice to meet you. I’ve heard a lot about you.” He smirked to himself at Collin's raised eyebrows. Zane: 1, Collin: 0.

  “And you own Joe’s, the little pub in Lawrence. Nice place,” Collin said, and his accent was British, which annoyed Zane for no reason he could put his finger on. “I have enjoyed many a beer there. In fact,” he chuckled, “once I ate an entire Joe’s nacho platter in a fit of rampant hunger. I think I might have scared your wait staff.”

  “You ate the entire thing?” Zane was impressed in spite of himself. Joe’s nachos were legendary, loaded with four cheeses, grilled steak and chicken, and topped with guacamole and sour cream, and the platter served four to six. He eyed Collin for insincerity but found none. “Well, I’m glad you enjoyed them.”

  Zane could see the way Collin's eyes slid from him to Gray, and he resented the vibe he got, like the other man could read between the lines of them, and see all of the things about Gray that Zane had yet to discover.

  Collin commandeered the brief lull in conversation, filling Gray in on a recent dig he had completed in Central America. Zane watched Gray’s eyes spark with interest and figured it was just his rotten luck that of course Collin was an archaeologist too. As Collin animatedly described the website his team had set up to catalog the artifacts they were recovering, Luca appeared stealthily enough to give Zane a jolt, waving them to the office where there was a computer they could use.

  Gray hesitated and Zane felt him tense, a longing to prove something to Zane warring with a deep-seated, nerdy desire to view the dumb old bones Collin had dug up. “Go on,” Zane said, giving him a push toward the office door. “But don’t leave me hanging out here to dry for long. Your brother Harry has another bottle and he’s giving me the stink eye.” He nodded toward the shorter Sloan, who raised a glass from his perch across the room. He wanted to be proud of his magnanimity, but his gut spasmed with a perverse sort of anxiety until Gray’s arm snuck around his waist, nestling him tight and warm into his side.

  He leaned close to Zane’s ear and murmured, voice low and rough, “Your ass looks fucking fantastic in those pants. I’ll be right back.”

  Zane felt his face flush hot before the heat rushed to settle low in his stomach, and he grinned, letting his mind wander into fantasy terrain as he watched the pair walk away. Gray’s ass was no eyesore either.

  He jumped when a hand brushed his arm, pressing a bottle into his palm. It was Alanna and her red, red hair, a fiery cascade against the midnight blue of her gown, was mesmerizing. Other than a brief introduction, this was the one Sloan sibling he had yet to speak with.

  “It’s more you than the gay, you know,” she said matter of factly.

  “Uh what, now?” Zane sputtered, nearly choking on the drink he had just taken from the beer.

  “Oh, don’t get me wrong, the fact that Gray is gay is most definitely not copacetic with mother dearest.” Alanna's eyes glittered in the candlelight. “But she could tolerate it, if you weren’t so gauchely poor.”

  “Now, wait a minute,” Zane said, fury rising in his chest.

  Alanna laughed, the sound brittle and tinkling. “Calm down, Zane, I’m on your side.” She stroked Zane’s arm again, and he steeled himself not to flinch. He was not overly fond of anyone in Gray’s family, it would seem. “She loves Collin, though,” she mused.

  Zane glared, but waited, instinct urging him to let Alanna have her say, knowing he was powerless anyway.

  "Collin is so, sooo suave, you know.” Alanna winked. “Old money is the only money, according to mother. She could overlook the, as she would say, queerness, of it all for Collin's zero’s.” Alanna laughed at Zane’s sick expression. “You, however, are everything my mother loathes about the middle class.”

  "Alanna." The word was sharp, biting. Gray’s eyes were twin blue flames as he approached and Zane had never seen his face so hard. “Enough,” he said between his teeth.

  “Just telling the truth, Grayson dear,” Alanna smiled serenely. “We do it so rarely don’t we? And I thought Zane deserved-” she paused, tilting her head in a move so reminiscent of Gray that Zane’s heart ached just a little bit. “The absolute truth? Wouldn’t you agree?”

  But Gray was tugging at Zane’s arm, handing her the unfinished beer, and Alanna's laughter followed them across the parquet floor and out of the door.

  They sat in the parked car, Gray quiet as he looked up at the monstrous house. He smiled wanly at Zane. “Let’s never do that again, okay?” His eyes were pinched and Zane’s heart clenched at the tired expression he could see lurking behind them. This had not been an easy evening for Gray either.

  He reached over and grabbed that blasted red t
ie, wrapping it once around his fist and using it to bring Gray’s face to meet his. He kissed him, coaxing Gray’s lips open with a gentle flick of tongue, languid, soft strokes until he felt Gray relax. “Deal,” Zane answered belatedly, nibbling across his overheated cheek, enjoying the rough texture of stubble on stubble.

  He worked at the knot in Gray’s tie, loosening it until he had room to unbutton the top two buttons of the dress shirt, massaging the knots he could feel at the nape of his neck. He ducked down, unable to resist the exposed skin, and Gray carded his fingers through Zane’s hair, palm resting gently on his crown to hold him in place.

  “You know,” Zane said, sucking a kiss in the hollow of Gray’s throat, “We should just invite all of them over to our house. The impressive size of my TV might force an honest to God expression out of Luca."

  Gray laughed softly, and Zane glanced up to find him completely relaxed now, eyes closed, head against the seat rest. Zane unbuttoned one more button and gripped that chiseled chin in his fingers, turning it so he could mouth the hinge of Gray’s jaw. “Mm hmm,” Gray murmured.

  “And that scary wife of his, I can see her offering all sorts of useful decorating tips.” Zane placed a soft kiss behind his ear. “There’s a Martha Stewart lurking underneath all of that silicone and botox, I can tell. And your mother--”

  Gray snorted, cracking open one eye. “My mother is coming too?”

  Zane ignored him, breathing deep and relishing the warm, spicy scent of Gray’s neck. God. Nothing should smell that good. It was sinful. “Your mother reminds me of those organizational gurus you see on midnight infomercials.” He gently kissed the warm skin. “I bet she would be able to solve our sad lack of closet space with one trip to Home Depot.”

  Zane’s hands itched to work Gray’s belt free and take this little seduction to the next level. What had started out as a simple relaxation exercise had rapidly evolved into full-fledged foreplay, as it was wont to do every time Zane had free rein to put his hands on Gray unhindered. He snuck one hand around his back and pulled him close instead, kissing him deeply. They rested against one another, foreheads grazing and breaths mingling, warm and moist. “Or, you know, we can always invite them to your apartment-“