Purple Method

by Victoria Milne

  “Yeah, that’d be nice. Thanks.” Lee sat at the table, and Max got up to make himself another coffee. “How are you feeling today, Max?”

  “Why does everybody keep on asking me that? I’m fine.”

  “Freaked out yet?”

  “Freaked out about what?” Zoe asked Lee.

  “You haven’t said anything?” Lee asked Max, who caught his eye for a second before turning back to his coffee. He’d forgotten Lee had witnessed him kissing Rick.

  “Said anything about what?” Zoe asked again.

  Max knew he had to make a decision right then. Should he claim that the alcohol had wiped his memory of the kiss, or should he own it and brush it off as if it was no big deal? He wanted to brush it off, knew that was the best thing to do, but….

  “Said anything about what, Lee?” Max raked his fingers through his hair. “What did I do this time? My memory’s pretty much blank from when we got back after the gig. I hit the tequila as soon as we got home.” He clenched his hands around his mug to stop them from shaking while he waited for this to play out.

  Lee studied him for a moment. “You kind of got bullied into playing a game and you freaked out straight after.”

  “What game?” Zoe asked.

  “Spin the bottle,” Lee said and squinted at them. “You really haven’t heard? I guess the game didn’t last long—”

  “What? What happened, Lee? Spit it the fuck out,” Tony said.

  “It’s okay,” Zoe whispered in Max’s ear. “You don’t need to worry. It’s not like we’re exclusive. I won’t be upset.”

  Lee laughed. “Let’s just say Max fell victim to a temporary change in the rules last night. You should’ve walked out. That’s what I would’ve done.”

  For a moment Max forgot that he’d pretended to forget. He gathered his thoughts again just in time. “What the hell are you talking about?” Tony and Pete watched him with their mouths gaped in surprise. “What rule change?”

  “You fucking kissed some guy, Max,” Lee said.

  “No.” Max went cold as Lee’s words hit him. He tried to shrug it off, but Zoe was looking thoughtful. “I was fucking drunk,” Max screamed.

  Tony glanced at Pete and then put a careful hand on Max’s arm. “It’s okay, Max.” He glared at Lee and the others. “Let’s just drop it, all right?”

  Max grabbed his skull-and-crossbones mug and made for the stairs. He made it halfway to his bedroom before he realized Lisa was still in his bed. Fucking great.

  He turned around, headed for the door, and went out into the yard to sit around the back of the garage by his smoker, where he’d kissed Rick for the second time.

  As soon as he reached the spot, his legs gave way, and he sank to the ground in a flood of tears. This really was his worst nightmare. A part of him had hoped that if everyone found out, it wouldn’t be a big deal, that they would all accept it and tell him it was okay if he was gay, but no.

  “Max,” Zoe said as she approached. “I’m sorry, okay?”

  Max raised his head a fraction before staring at the ground.

  Zoe sighed and flopped down next to him, tucking her long black hair behind her ear. “I missed you while you were away, and I guess I panicked when you seemed so distant last night. I never meant to doubt… you know.”

  Well, now he felt like an asshole. He’d been so wrapped up in his own problems that he’d not considered any feelings Zoe or Lisa may have. “I’m sorry too.” Max took a deep breath and put his arm around her and hugged her close. “How’s Lisa? Is she okay?”

  Zoe kissed Max’s neck and stroked her fingers along his collarbone. “Yeah, I think so. I haven’t spoken to her yet this afternoon, but we talked a bit last night after you passed out.”

  “Talked?” Max raised an eyebrow, and she laughed.

  “Okay, you got me. Let’s just say last night wasn’t a total disaster.” Zoe sighed. “It’s weird, isn’t it?”

  “What’s that?”

  “Well, nobody cares that Lisa and I had sex last night, but as soon as anyone suggests two guys sleeping together, or kissing even, it’s a big drama.”

  “I guess.”

  “I hate all these double-standards; it doesn’t make any sense.”

  Max snorted a laugh. “Yeah… it doesn’t bother you, what I did, then?”

  Zoe rested her arm across his shoulders. “I can’t see the big deal. Love is love, right?”

  “It’s not like I wanted to do it, you get that, though, don’t you?” Max chewed his lower lip, terrified that if he agreed with her about the whole “love is love” thing, she’d see right through him.

  “Yeah,” Zoe said softly, “I got that.” Max rested his head on her shoulder, and they sat in silence for a few moments. “We should go back inside. Pete’s got everyone clearing up, and they’ll never forgive us if we don’t help.”

  “Okay.” Max huffed and staggered to his feet, holding out his hand to help Zoe up.

  Under Pete’s instruction, Zoe, Max, and Sian, who was now up, headed out to the garage with trash bags to begin the cleanup operation. It didn’t take as long as Max had expected, and a couple of hours later they were done.

  After everyone went home, Max went out to stock up on groceries, and then headed up to his now-empty bedroom with the burritos he’d made. It was still a mess, as the cleanup operation hadn’t stretched as far as upstairs.

  Max sighed and shuffled onto his bed, leaning back against the wall as he ate his meal. He paused between mouthfuls, the sudden silence after the chaos and constant noise during the tour agitating him. He thought he’d have welcomed it, but instead it felt as though something was missing, and it made him feel empty. Weird. Max finished his meal, put his plate down on the comforter, and stared at his bedside table. It was crammed with empty bottles and snack wrappers. The rest of the house looked great now, and it further highlighted the state of his bedroom.

  With a sudden burst of energy and the need to do something, Max climbed off the bed and began to tidy his room. As he placed the last bottles in the trash, a single piece of ripped paper tucked between them caught his eye. He frowned as he retrieved it. There was a cell number written on it and beneath the number “Call me” and a smiley face.

  His fingers trembled. Was this a joke? It was exactly the kind of thing his friends would find amusing. But what if it wasn’t? What if he was holding Rick’s actual number?

  Max knew Rick had been in his bedroom after he’d carried him upstairs. His cheeks burned at the memory of Tony’s photograph. If Rick had wanted Max to contact him, it would have been the perfect opportunity to leave his number discreetly. Hell, there wasn’t even a name on the paper, which meant it probably was him…. Max sank to the floor and stared at the number.

  Should he call it? The thought terrified him.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  Rick

  “MORNING, LOVE.” Rick’s mom looked up from where she was preparing food in the kitchen. He’d slept in that morning, which was unusual for him. It was nearly midday. “This arrived this morning.” She handed him a letter and went back to chopping an onion. “Do you want some lunch?”

  The logo on the envelope was of the MMA gym in Vegas that he’d been waiting to hear from. His fingers trembled as he opened it.

  “Rick.”

  “Huh?” He looked up.

  His mom smiled. “Lunch, love?”

  “Um, yeah, thanks.” He walked through to the lounge and finished ripping it open. It didn’t take long to scan the contents of the letter.

  Thank you for your interest in applying for the trainer position. We have decided to proceed with another candidate.

  He let out the breath he didn’t realize he’d been holding and fell back onto the couch, his arm dropping next to him as he released the paper. That had been the final top-level MMA club he’d tried. How was it that with his fifteen years’ experience in martial arts, and now as a certified chiropractor, he was still unable to get his foot in the door
as a mixed martial arts trainer? It was frustrating beyond belief.

  Setting up a top-level MMA club took a huge amount of investment, and he didn’t have that kind of money. He’d had to make do with a minimal amount of second-hand equipment and hiring space from his parents at a discounted rate to have his own club at all. It would take years to build it up enough to be taken seriously, and after all the years of training it felt like he’d already waited a lifetime. His current setup was only ever meant to be temporary.

  “Any luck?”

  Rick removed his arm from where it was covering his eyes and looked at his mom. She meant well, but he had zero privacy living with his parents again.

  “No.”

  “And that was the last one?” She handed him a plate of sandwiches.

  He nodded.

  “Well, love, maybe it wasn’t meant to be. I think it’s time you got a proper job as a chiropractor, don’t you? All that training….” She tutted and shook her head. “I spoke to Mr. Sanders, you know, at Elfinbrook Chiropractic, and he has an opening coming up in September for a junior chiropractor—”

  Rick stood, his frustration building. “Mom, no. I can take care of this myself, okay? I don’t need your help. I’m twenty-seven, for God’s sake; I can do this on my own. You knew I didn’t want to work in a regular chiropractic clinic before I even started my training. We discussed it, remember?”

  His mom held up her hands and gave him that annoying, dismissive look that she’d last used when he’d told her he was going to give up dance and focus on martial arts. It was her way of saying “You do what you want and see if I care,” and it made him angry because he knew full well that she expected to get her way this time—expected him to let her interfere.

  His dad walked in and pursed his lips. “It’s okay to be frustrated, but there’s no need to take it out on your mom.”

  “Sorry, Mom.” Rick sighed and slumped back on the couch. “It’s just so annoying. I can’t seem to catch a break here.”

  His dad sat next to him and patted his knee. “I’m a firm believer that it simply means something better is around the corner.”

  “But the best MMA clubs are in Vegas. I’ve tried all of them now.” Rick caught his dad giving his mom that look, which was never a good sign. “What? What is it?”

  “Not all the best MMA clubs are in Vegas.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “Dietmar’s coming to visit in a few weeks’ time. I finally managed to persuade him to take a vacation. I know his nightclubs are important and take a lot of work. But even he needs to take a break.”

  “Yeah, so?”

  “Do you remember his partner, Neil?”

  “Sure I do.” Neil was the one who’d gotten him interested in martial arts in the first place. When he was twelve and they were visiting with Neil and Dietmar in London, Neil had taken him along to his kickboxing club. He’d been hooked ever since.

  “Well, Neil opened up an MMA gym in London last year.” He frowned. “I’m sure I mentioned it to you at the time…. Oh well, anyway, I could put in a good word for you, see if he has something.”

  Rick snorted a laugh. “I can’t move to London.”

  “He’s right. Jakob, don’t put such silly ideas in the boy’s head. London’s too far away.”

  His dad shrugged. “Just saying, Lily, that it would be a good way for him to get some proper experience. Even if it’s only for a short while.”

  “Rick’s fighters have competed under his training,” his mom said, “and I don’t see how exactly the same in London could benefit him. It wouldn’t even be his own club.”

  “Neil’s fighters compete globally.” His dad glanced at him. “Rick’s been doing the local circuit with his fighters.”

  Rick sat up straighter, his thoughts racing. Perhaps his dad was right. Maybe that would be a way in, to prove himself on the global rather than the local scene.

  “Do it, talk to Neil. See if he has something.”

  “Are you trying to push them all away?” His mom shook her head, a hint of tears in her eyes. “First Isla moves to Vegas, and now you’re convincing our son to move to another country.”

  “Mom, it would be temporary. Besides, we don’t even know if Neil has anything yet. Like I said, all the best clubs are in Vegas, so it wouldn’t be permanent.” It would simply be a way to get his foot in the door to the job he’d dreamed of since he was a teenager.

  “Are you ready, Rick?” Isla, his twin sister, asked as she rummaged through her handbag. She was only visiting with them for a couple of days, so he wanted to make the most of their limited time together. Unfortunately, that meant going shopping with her.

  “Yeah.” Rick hauled himself to his feet. “Let me just eat lunch quickly.” He had a lot to think about. A walk around the stores with Isla to find a wedding present for her friend would help to clear his head.

  “WHERE DO you want to go next?” Rick asked Isla as they strolled through downtown Elfinbrook in the fierce afternoon sun.

  Isla sighed. “The department store, I guess. Doesn’t look like we’re going to have much luck with the boutiques.”

  “That’ll teach you to leave it until the last minute.”

  “They had a short engagement, it’s not my fault. I was working.”

  “Maybe you should wait until you’re back in Vegas, get something there? A pair of jazzy Elvis wedding dolls or something?”

  “Rick, it’s not funny,” she whined. “Gracie’s wedding is this weekend. I have to get something now or I’m in trouble.” Rick grinned, and she thumped him. “Stop it. I am getting more organized, I swear.” She grabbed his arm and dragged him toward the mall. “Help me out here. The sooner we get done, the sooner you can treat me to ice cream.”

  Rick raised an eyebrow and allowed himself to be dragged. “I’m treating you?”

  “Yeah, ’cause you’re so happy to see me,” she said as they entered the air-conditioned mall.

  To their right was an alternative clothing store with neon lights flashing and electronica music blaring from the dark tunnel of steps leading to the hidden store beneath. The window of the music store to their left was filled with an array of shiny electric guitars on sale, and Rick paused to look at them.

  “Ever considered learning a musical instrument, Isla?”

  She stopped and stared at him. Then she burst out laughing.

  Rick folded his arms. “What?”

  “Are you serious?” Isla joined him at the store window. “One kiss with a musician and suddenly you’re dreaming about being a rock star? What happened to not wanting a relationship ’cause you’re focusing on your career? You have got it bad.”

  “Have not.” How did she always manage to do that, to embarrass him over nothing? True, he’d enjoyed the party on Friday night and meeting Max, but it was one night, one kiss—okay, two, but he hadn’t shared everything with Isla. Max was so far in the closet it would be almost impossible to pry him free and explore anything more between them, no matter how good it had been. Max had even orchestrated a fake casual relationship to stop people from questioning his sexuality. He’d never seen anyone go that far to hide it. It was so frustrating. “I should have known you’d make a big deal out of it. You’d think I’d have the sense by now not to tell you anything.”

  “Aw, don’t be like that.” Isla grabbed him around the waist and hugged him. “I believe you that… what was his name again?”

  “Max.”

  “That Max didn’t mean anything, or at least I would if you didn’t keep bringing it up.” Isla glanced at the alternative clothing store. “Maybe you could invest in a funky black T-shirt or some luminous chaps to entice him.”

  Rick swatted at her head, but she ducked out of the way, laughing. “You’re too easy.”

  They reached the department store, which spanned three levels, and stopped by the store plan to figure out which sections to visit.

  “What kind of thing were you planning t
o get Gracie, anyway?”

  “I don’t know.” Isla sighed and pointed to the fine-china section. “There ought to be something in there, right?”

  Fine china, really? “This is the last time I come shopping with you.”

  “Stop sulking and maybe I’ll spring for the ice cream… or perhaps one of those sexy guitars.” Isla began to play air guitar, and Rick scowled at her.

  The elevator dinged as they reached the third floor, and Isla and Rick stepped out, scanning the floor to get their bearings.

  “Fine china, this way,” Isla said, pointing straight ahead, and Rick followed her.

  As they approached the vast section of gleaming plates and cups, Rick spotted a bench by the entrance. “I’ll wait here. Come get me once you’re done.”

  “Suit yourself.”

  Rick sat down and watched his sister disappear before closing his eyes.

  A loud voice cut through the quiet. “If it wasn’t for you, we’d all be in the fucking bar by now. If I’d thought it would’ve taken this long, I never would’ve come.” Rick’s eyes flew open. The voice sounded familiar, but he couldn’t quite place it.

  He stood and looked to the far end, where Tony and Sian were apparently arguing over a set of plates. Rick blinked. If they were there, then maybe…. He glanced around, searching, hoping. He took a few steps closer, and a smile crept onto his face.

  Sure enough, Max was with them, over by the china cups, his golden hair falling forward to conceal his face as he rolled a gaudy teacup between his palms, studying it closely. He looked so out of place in his well-loved leather jacket and decrepit boots that Rick almost let out a laugh.

  Max placed the teacup back and picked up another, his cute face contorting with disgust as he gingerly put it back before moving on to the next one. This time Rick did chuckle.

  What was it about this guy that had him so intrigued? Apart from his unbelievably sexy ass and haunting green eyes. From the first time he’d laid eyes on him when Pete had shown him Max’s picture and suggested Rick come to the Purple Method gig, Rick had known Max would be impossible to resist—that he’d be an irresistible distraction.