Gloria breezed in wearing one-piece pajamas with bats and witches printed all over it. She looked me up and down. “The boys are gonna be on you like flies on shit.”
“Bad word, Aunt Glo,” Cooper said.
“Sorry, baby. I’ll do better. Come see the bedroom your Aunt Jess and I made for you.”
Painted a robin’s egg blue with brown accents, the room was a little boy’s dream, with bookshelves full of children’s books and toys and an adorable bedspread with bikes on it.
“Wow! Is this really my room?” Cooper’s eyes were round as saucers.
“Sure is,” Gloria said.
He kicked off his sneakers and climbed on the bed. “I love it!”
“We’re so glad you do,” Jess said, joining him on the bed where he dumped out the contents of his backpack to show her everything.
“Call me if you need me, and I’ll come right away,” I told him. He barely looked my way.
“Okay, bye, Daddy! Aunt Jess, look at my motorcycle pajamas!”
Gloria walked me to the door. “Coop will be fine. Have some fun for God’s sake, and don’t call until you get up in the morning. We bought all the junk cereal ‘cause we know he doesn’t get any at home.”
“Gee, thanks,” I said.
“And we plan to watch lots of cartoons. Oh, and I want a full report from you on all the shenanigans, so make sure there are some.”
With a sigh, I headed outside to the cab.
I’d called my friend Nick and asked him to go out with me. He’d been understandably surprised, since I’d turned him down every time he’d asked me to go in the past. He suggested The Yellow Banana.
The cab driver drove me to downtown Brooklyn and let me out in front of the brick building with the flashing neon banana that looked a little too phallic to be realistic. I could hear the music thumping as I walked through the packed parking lot. I’d never been much for the club scene, and the idea of walking into that crowd alone made me wish I’d had Nick meet me outside. Taking a deep breath, I opened the glass door and approached the desk to pay the cover charge, smiling at one of the bouncers when he gave me an appraising once over.
My pulse pounded along with the loud music as I entered the main room and threaded my way through the crowd to the bar. If I was going to dance, I’d need some liquid courage first. I got a text from Nick telling me he was at the bar, but I didn’t see him.
A handsome Black man with a warm smile took my order, and while I waited, I looked for Nick, but the crowd around the bar was thick. On the other side of the room was a small stage where a guy wearing only a pair of skin-tight white shorts and white leather boots was swinging around on a pole to the music. He made it look effortless as well as sexy, and judging by the amount of bills being thrown onto the stage and stuffed into his shorts, the audience agreed. Colorful strobe lights flashed on the crowd of mostly men, and the bass rocked along with my pulse.
“Here you go,” the bartender said, setting the Long Island Tea I’d ordered in front of me.
“Thanks.” I stood drinking, and with each sip cared less and less that I was by myself. My phone buzzed. It was Nick giving me explicit directions on where to find him, and finally I spotted him waving the tiny umbrella from his very big, very pink drink at me. I headed that way.
Slender with dark hair and big blue eyes, Nick was a beautiful man. The first time he’d come into my shop, he’d had on a kilt and leather vest with knee-high socks and boots and no shirt. He’d rocked the look. Sometimes he wore dresses and sometimes jeans and T-shirts, but no matter what he had on, he always looked gorgeous. Today he wore a tight pair of red leather pants and a leopard print shirt unbuttoned almost to the navel and knee-high black boots with two-inch heels. He was alone, but at least three guys were vying for his attention. When Nick began a relationship with Jeovanni Mendoza, I hadn’t been surprised. Jeo had always liked pretty, shiny things. What had shocked me was that the two men were still together months later. The “Hung” Mendoza I remembered had never gotten serious about anybody, and Nick didn’t seem like the type who would take the kind of shit I remembered Jeo dishing out.
A hand brushed my ass, but when I jerked my head to see who it was, too many people were around for me to be able to tell. I wondered what it would be like to just let go and not care. Dance. Maybe take someone home and fuck them or let them fuck me. But I wasn’t the type of person who could do that. Not unless I was completely hammered, like I’d been the night I’d met Matteo, and that hookup would have faded away in a haze of sex and beer like any other if we hadn’t just clicked. Breakfast the next day had become lunch and then dinner, and before we’d known what was happening, we’d become a couple.
Meeting Matteo’s gaze at Dante’s Fourth of July barbecue had been like being gutted with a razor blade. The minute I’d realized the party Nick had invited me to was being held at Dante Durham’s house, I’d wanted to leave, but Coop had a little friend there to play with and was excited to see the fireworks. I couldn’t disappoint him. Besides, the guys had assured me Matteo was with his grandmother for the holiday and would not show up there. They’d been wrong.
That had been months ago, and I remained shaken by the experience.
I blinked, the chaotic and noisy surroundings easing my mind back to the club. I set the drink on the bar.
“Hey, Flynn!” Nick spoke loudly over the noise. We shared a one-armed hug.
“What’s that you’re drinking?” I shouted.
“Vodka and lemonade. Wanna try it?”
I wrinkled my nose and shook my head. He laughed and tucked the umbrella behind his ear. Even that looked good on him.
“Jeo here?” I asked, bending close to Nick’s ear so I wouldn’t have to shout.
“He’s working.” Nick swung his boot-clad foot, big blue eyes taking me in. “You look hot.”
I felt myself blush. “Uh, thanks. You look really good too.” I cleared my throat. “Jeo doesn’t mind you coming here without him? There are a lot of guys who look like they want to get in your pants.” I dodged another touch from a passerby.
Nick grinned. “Yours too. And no. He knows I like to dance and trusts me.” I remembered Jeo as being pretty wild, but the club was no place for conversation.
“Hey, babe,” a muscular guy with a red Mohawk crowded in between me and Nick.
“I’m not your babe, and get lost,” Nick said loudly. The guy left, which amazed me because he had been huge, and Nick looked like a stiff wind could blow him over. As though reading my mind, Nick said, “You have to be firm with them, otherwise they think you’re being coy.”
I nodded. Before we could say another word, a voice near my ear made me jump. “Well, hey there, cutie.”
I looked over my shoulder and came nose to chin with a hulk of a guy with a septum piercing and a tat of a skull on his thick neck. He was looking at me like I was something new on the menu.
“Oh, no you don’t. He’s with me.” Nick circled my waist with his arm.
Septum guy narrowed his eyes at Nick. “Thought you were Mendoza’s bitch.”
“I’m nobody’s bitch, asshole. Get lost.”
Unlike the last guy, this one looked like he had no intention of leaving and was considering snapping Nick in half. My stomach clenched in fear, but Nick just continued to stare at him defiantly. He was either the bravest guy I’d ever met or the stupidest.
Behind us, a deep voice rumbled, “You heard him, Kilbourne. Get moving.”
Septum guy glanced that way and, to my surprise, grudgingly strode off. I turned to find Axel Bryant behind the bar.
Back when I’d been with Matteo, Ax used to shave his head to display the variety of tattoos on his scalp. The effect, combined with his heavy muscles and huge frame, had been terrifying. He was still one scary motherfucker, but the wavy brown hair he’d since grown in gave him a softer look and more personable appearance. Still, you’d have to be an idiot to tangle with a guy like that. I’d met his fiancé at th
e barbecue. Caleb was quiet, solemn, and a little timid. I’d honestly never seen a more unlikely couple, but the devotion between them had been obvious.
“You shouldn’t be so snitty with Kilbourne,” Axel said to Nick after greeting me. “He’s fucking dangerous.”
“He’s a twat,” Nick snapped haughtily, but I could see now how rattled he was. “I didn’t want him messing with Flynn,” he added, and I smiled at him.
“Who is he?” I asked.
“Member of the Sinners,” Axel said, nodding to a customer and pouring him a beer. “A real jackass who gets off on beating up guys smaller than he is.”
“That would be most of the population,” I said.
Axel grinned and handed the beer to the guy, taking his money. “Not me,” he said, flexing the arm with a sleeve of tattoos before putting the cash in the till.
“Well, thanks for saving me from the guy.” I glanced at Nick. “Both of you.”
“Flynn’s having a daddy’s night out,” Nick told Axel.
“That’s cool. Your kid—sorry, I can’t remember his name.”
“Cooper.”
“Yeah, Cooper. He’s a cute little bugger. Is he at home with your husband?”
“I’m not married. He’s with a friend. Feels weird not having him with me.”
Yet another hand brushed my ass, this one firm and possessive, pulling a surprised squeak out of me.
“Get lost,” I said harshly and couldn’t help my grin of triumph when the guy actually obeyed and disappeared in the crowd.
Axel winked at me.
“So I hear it’s Axel now,” I said, quickly claiming a stool as soon as it was abandoned.
The big man looked sheepish as he wiped down the counter. “I kind of had a makeover, and getting rid of the nickname was part of it.”
“I noticed. I like the hair.”
“Thanks.” He glanced at me. “Matteo sure was surprised to see you at the barbecue. We all were. Thought you lived on the West Coast now.”
Just hearing Matteo’s name set off butterflies in my stomach. “I moved back a few years ago to help out a friend. That’s when I adopted Cooper. I was surprised when Nick’s boyfriend’s friends turned out to be you guys. Small world.”
“You wouldn’t have come if you’d known, I take it.”
I shook my head. “No. Not because of any of you—” I hurried to explained, and Axel cut me off.
“I get it. No worries.”
I looked at Nick. “How about we dance?” Nick grinned and nodded before hopping off his stool.
We threaded our way through the crowd. When we reached the dance floor and began to dance, I felt my cares slipping away. Gradually, I let go of everything, moving my body to the beat of the Billy Idol song and emptying my brain of all thought.
Lights flashed over the gyrating men, skin and muscle on display. A nearby couple dry humped on the dance floor. Every so often, a hand, arm, or cock would brush against some part of my body, and it wasn’t long until I was hard in my jeans from the sensory overload. I was dancing by myself, with Nick, and with everyone around me at the same time. It was awesome.
Seven or more songs in, sweat running down my back and mouth dry with thirst, I looked at the beefy guy in a white tank and jeans who’d been dancing closest to me the last ten minutes and said loudly, “I think I’ll go get a drink.”
He touched my arm, and I looked at him more closely than I had the entire time we’d been dancing. Dark eyes, dirty blond hair cut short, an earring dangling from one ear, and what looked like tribal symbols tattooed on his arms, he was pretty damn attractive. “Wanna go in the back after?” he asked, leaning close so I could hear over the music.
I considered it. The guy was offering a hot, fast fuck or a blow job in a dark hallway—exactly what I needed—and it was tempting. If I hadn’t so recently seen Matteo—if I could get the guy off my fucking mind—I’d probably take him up on it. As it was, I shook my head ruefully and made an excuse.
I looked around for Nick and spotted him deep in the crowd of dancers, so I made my way to the bar alone.
“Having fun?” the bartender I’d ordered from before asked.
“Yeah. They play some good stuff here.”
The man grinned. “A mix of decades. I agree. What can I get you?”
“A bottle of water, please.”
When I’d arrived and paid the cover charge, my hand had been stamped with a picture of a banana so I could get back in without paying if I left. So, I decided to drink my water outside in the fresh air.
A large moon hung low in the sky. I leaned against the brick wall and took a long swig from the plastic bottle. I’d read somewhere trash had been found at the bottom of the deepest parts of the sea. At home I used refillable insulated drink containers. I hoped The Yellow Banana had a recycling bin somewhere.
“Taking a breather?” The low, rumbling voice made me spill water down my front. “Sorry. Didn’t mean to scare you, babe.”
The guy with the septum piercing Axel had chased away earlier—Kilbourne I think was his name—towered over me.
“I was just about to go back inside.”
“Not leaving on my account, I hope,” he said, taking a step closer so barely two inches remained between us, and I couldn’t easily get around him. I could smell the alcohol on his breath and the leather of his vest.
I considered giving him a smart answer, but without Axel there as backup, I thought better of antagonizing a man that size. Kilbourne dwarfed my five-foot-eleven by several muscle-packed inches. As he moved to lean beside me against the wall, the light from the corner of the building hit the skull tattoo on his neck.
I cleared my throat. “Nice tat.”
“Which one?”
I lifted my hand to point, realized I was shaking, and dropped it again. “The skull.”
Kilbourne smiled like a hungry predator at his next meal.
“Glad you like it. You’re hot.”
“Uh, thanks. I’m not really looking for a hookup. Sorry.”
I could feel the heat rolling off his body, warming my side and intensifying the scent of alcohol, sweat, and leather wafting off him. I used to love the smell of leather when Matteo wore it, but on Kilbourne, it made me queasy.
A group of people stood talking in the parking lot, but I still felt threatened by this bull of a man’s presence.
“I really need to get back in and find my friend,” I said, inching closer to the door.
“Nick? I’m sure he’s in the back fucking around,” the guy said.
“I don’t think he’d cheat on his boyfriend.”
Kilbourne snorted. “Yeah, right. That little whore’s ass has taken half the cocks in New York City. You could probably park a hummer in it. In fact, I’ll bet—” Whatever other derogatory thing he was about to say about Nick got cut off when someone yanked Kilbourne away from the wall before shoving him back into it so hard I heard all the wind leave his lungs.
“What the fuck!” Kilbourne roared when he recovered, and all of a sudden, I was in the middle of a fight. I scrambled back, dropping my now-empty bottle and quickly snatching it back up before moving toward the door. Bouncers swarmed out of the building at the same time my phone buzzed in my pocket.
A text from Nick. Where are you?
I quickly messaged back that I was outside, just as I noticed the guy fighting Kilbourne looked really familiar. Two of the bouncers grabbed the men, keeping them from throwing any more punches. Both were breathing like angry bulls, and Kilbournes’s lip was bleeding.
A small crowd had gathered, and I stepped away from them just as Nick pushed out the door.
“Oh, my God. What’s going on?” he asked, staring at the struggling men.
“Break it up, or we’re calling the cops!” one of the bouncers growled, shoving Kilbourne back toward the parking lot.
“I was minding my own business, chatting up that piece of fine ass over there,”—Kilbourne gestured in my direction
—“and this asshat started up with me.”
“Is he talking about you?” Nick asked. “Is that why Jared hit him? Because he was bothering you?”
I looked again at the instigator of the fight. Only slightly shorter than Kil, he was of mixed race and had striking light green eyes. Currently, he was breathing hard and scowling.
“He’s a Hedonist,” I said, suddenly remembering him from Dante’s barbecue.
Nick nodded. “Yeah. Tease is his nickname. They all hate Kilbourne.” He turned to look me over. “Did he hurt you?”
“What? No. We were just talking. But I can’t say I was upset to be interrupted.”
The small crowd that had gathered when punches had been thrown began to disperse. It looked like the bouncers were making Kilbourne leave the club, and he wasn’t happy about it.
“I didn’t start it, fucking Fisher did! He slammed me up against the goddamn wall! What was I supposed to do, just stand there?”
“You’re a troublemaker, and if you don’t wanna be banned from the club for good, you’d better get your ass outta here!” the bouncer who had winked at me when I came in yelled at him.
Grumbling and cursing, Kilbourne mounted a bike parked nearby and squealed out of the space, heading straight for Tease and only swerving to avoid him at the last second. Tease didn’t move an inch the whole time.
“Wow, you must have balls of steel,” I said when Tease strode over to where Nick and I were standing.
He grinned. “Kilbourne’s too much of a chicken to run me over with so many witnesses.” He looked at me. “You okay?”
“Me? Yeah, I’m fine.”
“I saw that fucker crowding you and was keeping an eye out when I heard him talking smack about Nick.”
Nick’s eyes got big. “He was? That jackass!” His eyes darted to me. “What was the piece of shit saying?”
“That you were screwing half of New York,” I said sheepishly.
“Hmph.” Nick put his hands on his hips. “He’s just mad I never let him screw me.” He smiled at Tease. “Thanks for defending my honor, Jared.”
“If I hadn’t, Jeo would’ve had my head,” Tease said, still grinning. “Besides, it felt good to smash that fucker’s big mouth.”
The Single Dad and his Soul Mate Page 3