by Kensie King
No problem. The cab company was always around this time of night, to get everyone home safely.
I turned around and grazed elbows with someone.
“Sorry.” I heard the quiet voice before I could say anything.
I glanced up, my own apology dying on my tongue. Liam. His hair was tousled, a few strands feathering over his forehead. His glasses slid down on his nose, cute round metal rims that reminded me of a librarian. My gaze automatically dropped to his lips and…
Shit. What was that? On his lip?
He’d managed to make most of the swelling go away, but I could still easily see the split where he’d clearly been hit. I reached for his arm, instantly concerned.
“Liam—what happened? Are you—”
“It’s fine.” He glanced away, eyes darting around the crowd. “I—I slipped on the stairs. It—”
“An ice pack,” I said, my hand still on his arm. “We can find one and get this taken care of.”
Liam gave a nervous laugh. “It’s fine. Completely fine. I’m just embarrassed. I—” He gently pulled away from my grasp. “Really, I’m fine. It’s busy.”
The noise had picked up around us, but I hadn’t noticed any of it. Not when I saw Liam’s split lip. And Mason had said he was jumpy.
My stomach twisted. No, I didn’t believe his story that he’d fallen. And even so, I wanted to help him. I wanted…
As Liam turned back to the glasses, I pulled myself together. It wasn’t any of my business. I kept trying to remind myself of that.
But again, the employees were like family and if one of them was hurting or in trouble, it weighed on me.
No worries. I’d just keep an eye on Liam—from a distance. And when I was sure he was okay, I’d forget about my feelings all over again and we could both get on with our lives.
Chapter 3
LIAM
They’d announced last call thirty minutes ago, which meant my shift was almost over. And then came the tricky part. My stomach churned with nerves. I had to make look like I was leaving when I was actually planning on hiding in the storage room.
I couldn’t go back home tonight. Not when I had no idea what was waiting for me.
Shame washed over me. That I’d brought so much of this on myself. That I was a twenty-three-year-old man still living at home because of guilt. Because I couldn’t take care of myself.
My hands shook as I shoved a few dirty glasses in the bin. Keep your head down and be invisible.
It had been my motto lately. Except with Bea. She was the only one who knew the real me.
Sure, half the bar—maybe all of them—knew I was gay. But that was only because Bea had accidentally outed me when the second week I worked here. Didn’t matter much because I wasn’t the only one. If a strong, capable man like Tate Porter was gay and owning it, I was going to try to own it, too.
That didn’t mean I hadn’t been pissed at her for the whole week. I’d done everything I could to keep that secret for the last few years, and in one week, she’d exposed me.
The thing was, nobody cared. They let me be me and it was the most rewarding feeling ever.
Which was why I couldn’t lose this job. I’d found family here—and people who understood me. Being late tonight was inexcusable and I couldn’t let that happen two days in a row.
So it made more sense to just stay here tonight rather than risk something happening if I went home.
Not like I hadn’t done it before.
I wiped down the rest of the bar, keeping my head down when Tate walked by. My gaze followed his boots until they moved out of sight.
I blew out a breath of relief. So far, so good.
Then I turned to rinse my rag, and Tate was there.
I nearly barreled into his chest. He was several inches taller than me, enough that I would have crushed my glasses on his shoulder if I hadn’t skidded to a stop.
“Dammit,” I muttered under my breath. I automatically turned away, already mumbling an apology.
“I thought you were off at eleven,” Tate said.
I shook my head. “I asked Mason if I could cover the rest of Bea’s shift. She had somewhere to be.”
Almost entirely true. Actually, I’d asked Bea if I could take the rest of her shift. For the money. And for the chance to be here as long as possible instead of trying to find somewhere to go. And then I’d approved the switch with Mason because I couldn’t look Tate in the eye again. Not when he was suspicious. And probably angry because I was late.
He hadn’t mentioned it, but I knew he liked employees who were prompt. Honest. Hard workers. Just like him.
“You’re already almost at forty hours this week, and you’re still scheduled for tomorrow,” Tate said.
I swallowed. Shit. He didn’t sound angry, but he did sound like he wanted me to go.
“I—it—” I wiped the rest of the counter. “Sorry, I didn’t know.”
“I’m not mad. Liam.”
I opened my mouth to apologize once more, but then he said my name again. More quietly.
I glanced up again, surprised to find concern on his face. In the furrow between his eyebrows. I found myself wanting to reach up and smooth it away. My world might be crumbling around me right now, but I didn’t want him hurting in any way.
I wanted him happy.
“I’m not mad,” Tate repeated. He reached up almost absently to rub the stubble on his cheek. It was a tick, a habit I didn’t’ even think he realized he was doing. And I loved it. I wanted to follow the motion with my own hand.
To give him some comfort and maybe, just maybe, get a little in return.
“I just want to make sure you don’t work too hard,” he said.
At that, I gave a choked laugh. “Don’t worry about me.”
I wanted the hours. The distraction. No, I needed it.
Tate reached out, setting his hand on the rag so I’d stop wiping the counter. His hand was so close, I could feel the heat from his fingers. “I think you should clock out. Go home. Rest.”
My heart clutched. No. Not home. I couldn’t.
I opened my mouth to argue. I’d work until my feet fell off before I’d go home.
But Tate tugged the rag from my hand. “I’ve got this. Go clock out.”
Swallowing more words of rebuttal, I nodded and stepped around him to leave the bar. People were putting on their coats and heading out the front door.
Maybe it was better this way. I’d be able to blend in the crowd.
I clocked out and grabbed my jacket before I joined the crowd by the bar. And when I made sure Mason wasn’t in sight and Tate wasn’t looking, I slipped down the hallway with the restrooms. On the end, there was a large storage closet that was usually locked at the end of the night to restock supplies.
I bit my bottom lip when I reached it, not knowing what I’d do if it was locked.
When the doorknob moved smoothly, I exhaled and then hurried inside. I walked all the way to the back, where I’d hidden a blanket behind a few boxes. No one came back here. As long as I could make it another hour, I’d be safe.
I crouched behind the boxes and waited. Waited while the noise died away. Waited while a few employees came in and out with supplies. Each time, I held my breath and prayed they wouldn’t hear me.
And when the last of the noise was gone, I checked my watch. They should be going now. All of them—including Tate, who usually stayed until the last light was out and the last person had gone home.
The lights flickered and then the room pitched into darkness. I heard the sound of a door, probably Tate leaving through the back entrance. When it was finally blissfully quiet, I settled down on the blankets, tucking my jacket under my cheek.
When my heartbeat finally relaxed into a comfortable rhythm and I was sure I was safe, I closed my eyes and pictured a world where I didn’t have to hide from anyone. Tate was there, his eyes smiling as they looked into mine.
And then he wrapped his arms around me and t
ook away all the rest of the fear.
Chapter 4
TATE
I woke early, well before I usually did, because we had an extra small shipment coming in to make sure we were stocked for the weekend. Mason hadn’t seemed concerned until last night when I showed him just how busy it had been and how much we needed the delivery.
Mason had laughed like he usually did and clapped me on the shoulder. “Good thing we have each other, right?”
He was absolutely right. Even though Mason didn’t take a lot of things in life seriously anymore, he didn’t mess around with our business. He made sure the big numbers worked and I made sure things ran smoothly on the floor, with the employees and with our supplies.
We were an odd team—especially considering our history and how we’d met—but I trusted Mason more than I trusted anyone else.
I showered and shaved, already knowing it was going to be a long day. With that thought in mind, I grabbed two bagels as I headed out so I wouldn’t forget to eat later. Not only did I plan on making sure the shipment got in, I was restocking the bar.
A few employees were coming in later to help, but not for a while. I’d almost asked Liam until I saw how many hours he already had for this week. That man was always willing to take extra shifts to help people out. He was one of my most reliable employees.
And now he couldn’t look at me.
I took a bite of the bagel before I started my car and drove in the direction of the bar. I’d done something to make him nervous. Or had I?
Liam always seemed to have a hard time making eye-contact with me. Maybe he was intimidated. I laughed. No, I didn’t intimidate many people.
“He’s just not into you,” I whispered as I turned the corner and the bar came into view.
That was more likely what was going on. Liam could feel it when I watched him and now I’d made him uncomfortable.
That had to be it.
Dammit. I just couldn’t help myself. There hadn’t been anyone since Cole. No one who’d made me feel alive like I used to. Who made me want to be in love again.
But Liam…he seemed so innocent and so quiet. And sexy as hell. A combination that was driving me crazy. I wanted to know him—everything about him. I wanted to be there for him. I wanted him. Plain and simple.
Mason would tell me to pick up one of the cuties at the bar when we had diversity night. Yeah, right. Wasn’t my style.
But lately…I’d almost been tempted. I was finally moving on and getting over losing Cole. And I was lonely.
Mason was a great friend and I had plenty of company at the bar and with my employees but that didn’t fill one of the most important holes. The one that longed for company at night. The one that longed for a soul mate. The one that longed to be filled with the perfect person for me, mind, body and soul.
I parked in the back lot behind the old firehouse. You could still see much of the original structure from the back, the red brick that showcased large windows and the arches over those same windows. Even the wide doors the firetrucks used to leave through. We’d remodeled inside, of course, and now the entrance was on the opposite side of the building. But we’d kept the fireman’s pole because it gave the place a bit of whimsy. It was one of the things that made Toxic stand apart from local bars, from the rows of them on the busy downtown streets a few blocks over.
We opened up those large doors most evenings when it was warm so people could mingle and drink in the open air or sit and listen to music. But right now, everything was securely locked up.
I walked inside, dropping my keys into my pocket and checking my watch. Probably another half hour yet before the delivery truck arrived.
Before I reached the bar, I heard shuffling and froze. I narrowed my eyes, peering around the dim area, my gaze searching behind the bar. Shit. I almost wished for rats. Better than someone breaking in and trying to rob us or destroy anything. It was a decent part of town, but you never knew.
I mentally noted that I was going to have to talk to Mason about a security system as soon as possible. I wasn’t sure why I kept putting that on the back burner—probably because we’d never had any problems before.
Pulling out my phone in case I needed to call the police, I walked as quietly as I could down the hallway that led to the restrooms. The noise didn’t sound again. The instant my shoulders relaxed, though, I heard the shuffling once more.
The storage closet. It sounded like someone was in there. My finger hovered over the nine on my phone. But what if it was Mason?
Who was I kidding? Mason didn’t get up before noon. And his car was outside.
I whipped open the door to the storage closet, turned on the lights and yelled, “I’m calling the police! You’d better get out of here right now.”
Something fell over, I heard a sharp curse, and then a voice. A familiar voice. “No, don’t—wait! Don’t call the police.”
Liam stumbled into view. My mouth dropped open at seeing him, hair ruffled like he’d just woken up, and the shadow of dark blond stubble tracing his jaw.
“I’m—I’m sorry. Shit.” Liam held up his hands, like the police were holding him at gunpoint. “Don’t call the police. I was just—just leaving. I’m so sorry—”
“Did you sleep here?” I asked, shoving my phone in my pocket. I wasn’t calling the police, not on one of my employees. Concern seeped in immediately when the look on his face turned to fear.
“I’m so, so sorry.” Liam shuffled forward, both shoes untied and his shirt askew. It actually looked pretty adorable. But it worried me. He didn’t look guilty as much as he looked afraid.
Of what, I wasn’t sure.
“I was just leaving. I promise.” Liam came in my direction, looking anywhere but at my face. “Please, don’t call the police.”
“I’m not calling the police,” I assured him. “I thought you went home last night.”
This time Liam did look up, his ice blue eyes reflecting pools of worry through the lenses of his glasses. “I couldn’t go back. I mean—”
“What happened?” I asked immediately. He couldn’t go home—that meant something was wrong.
“It’s nothing.” Liam swallowed hard, his Adam’s apple bobbing in his throat.
He looked so lost, so torn, I almost took him in my arms right there. No one should have to be this tortured. “Did someone hurt you?”
Liam pulled off his glasses and wiped them hastily on the hem of his shirt. “It’s not…” I waited cautiously, fearing any movement might make him clam up again. “I just—please don’t fire me. I promise this won’t happen again. I swear, I didn’t take anything. I just slept here—”
“I’m not firing you. Liam—”
“Thank you.” Liam went straight for the door, steering clear of me and keeping his head down. “I won’t be late for my shift tonight.”
Before I could say anything else, he vanished out the door. I followed after him, but he was already walking out the back. The door shut, giving a final thud and leaving me completely confused.
Dammit. I thought I’d had him for a moment—that he might open up and let me in. That he might let me comfort him. I pictured myself whispering in his ear, telling him everything would be okay, and then matching my lips against his. Losing myself and letting go of everything holding me back.
I squeezed my phone tight in one hand, tempted to call Bea. Tempted to go straight for answers.
But my gut told me that would hurt Liam more than help him at this point. So I’d be patient. But tonight I wasn’t going to let him leave work until I got answers.
Chapter 5
LIAM
I didn’t have a choice. I had to go back to my house for a change of clothes. To shower and regroup for tonight. Yesterday, after two unfamiliar men had shown up at the door looking for my dad, I hadn’t had time to do anything but run out of there.
Afraid the car wasn’t going to be reliable like I’d experienced in the past, I’d walked to work—a couple miles
from my house. It was part of the reason I’d gotten the job there. Close enough I could walk if necessary, and I had experience bartending.
At least—experience making all my dad’s drinks for him when I was still a teen and his friends would come over for poker parties.
But those weren’t the kinds of people who came to the house anymore. No, the people who came now were bigger. More intimidating.
And when they didn’t get what they wanted, they used their fists.
I didn’t know what kind of trouble my dad was in, but he hadn’t been home in a few days as far as I knew. Which meant the guys who were looking for him—or looking for his money—weren’t finding him. But they were finding me.
There was no way in hell I was going to give up the last bit of my savings for a drug deal gone wrong or whatever the hell my dad had fucked up. It was my last bit of hope that I might get out of this place.
I snuck through the back door despite not seeing my dad’s car in the driveway. Just because he wasn’t home didn’t mean someone else wasn’t in here.
I couldn’t help but glance into his bedroom as I walked by. And guilt flooded me. My mom used to sleep in there. Even when she was sick. Until it got really bad. Until that day I didn’t come home because I’d found something I thought had made me happy at the time. I thought I’d found myself.
And then she’d ended up in the hospital.
Swallowing down a lump of heartache, I grabbed a backpack from my room and shoved clothes in it. I found the wad of cash I’d stashed deep in my closet where my dad would never find it.
I risked a quick shower—so quick the water didn’t even have time to warm. Either that or my dad hadn’t paid the utilities again. It had happened before.
Then I dropped a box of crackers inside as well. It wasn’t a permanent solution, but it would get me through the rest of the day.
I was supposed to be back at work in an hour. And then…I had no idea. Maybe I could come up with an excuse to stay at Bea’s tonight. She didn’t care when I slept over, as long as her roommate wasn’t in a bad mood—which she usually was.