I shrugged. “It’s just the way it feels and usually means I should slow down.”
“We took a cab. It’ll be all right. I’ll watch over you if you get crazy.” He grinned at me, and I couldn’t help smiling back.
After that, I decided to throw caution to the wind and have fun. We could hear the music from the other side of the bar, and every twelve songs or so, they’d play some disco and turn on a psychedelic ball that flashed into the dining area. When Staying Alive by the Bee Gees came on, I couldn’t help myself.
“Oh, my God, we have to dance to this.” I gave Tyson what was probably a goofy grin. We got up and headed around the bar, which suddenly seemed a mile long. I almost tripped over my own feet, and if Tyson hadn’t grabbed my arm, I would’ve landed on the floor.
“Thanks,” I said, smiling again.
Tyson shook his head. “You’re such a lightweight.”
We began to dance, each of us trying to outdo the other with crazy disco moves. The crowd was loving it, and I was surprised to realize how much fun I was having. When something slower started playing, Tyson pulled me into his arms, and we began to sway.
“You smell really good,” I murmured against his shoulder.
“Don’t fall asleep on me,” he sounded amused.
“I wouldn’t,” I said. Then added, “Not on purpose.”
Tyson’s chuckle reverberated through me.
“Flynn?”
“Yeah, Matty?”
Wait. Matteo?
I opened my eyes and eased away from Tyson.
“Matt-yo?” That sounded nothing like when I’d said it in my head.
Matteo frowned. “You’re drunk.” He turned glaring eyes at Tyson, who was a good foot taller than Matteo and much broader. “Who’s this joker?”
“Who you calling a joker?” Tyson demanded in his deep voice.
That last drink was beginning to hit hard. My head was full of cotton wool, and so heavy it fell against Tyson’s chest again.
“You gonna answer me?” Tyson asked, and I giggled.
“You rumble when you talk, Ty.”
Matteo took a step toward Tyson, who stiffened, and someone grabbed Matteo’s arm. I focused on her, or tried to. A woman. A pretty woman.
“I love that movie,” I said, my mouth automatically drawing into a grin. Everything was just so funny tonight.
“What movie?” Tyson asked, rubbing my back. It felt fantastic, and I moaned.
Matteo made a noise like his bike when it was starting up. “Do you know this guy, Flynn, or did you just pick him up?”
“Matt-yo,”—God, no wonder Coop called him Mad—“Tyson Mc-McCormic-ull. Tyson, Matt-yo Cosca. Cos-ta. Tyson’s one of our city’s finest.”
Tyson pulled me closer and smirked. “McCormick,” he enunciated.
I frowned up at him. “That’s what I said.” He tweaked my nose, and I looked at the woman. “And you must be Jul-ya Robbers.”
“I’m Maria,” Pretty Woman said.
“You’re absolutely shitfaced,” Matteo said, and when I managed to train my eyes on him, he looked like he couldn’t believe what he was seeing. “How much have you had to drink?” he asked me.
“Uh…a lot?” I looked up at Tyson for his opinion on this.
Tyson nodded, looking amused, then turned a cold stare on Matteo. “I don’t know who you are, but this isn’t any of your business. Flynn’s with me.”
“I’m a friend of his,” Matteo said.
“Just another in a long line of friends I’ve seen naked,” I said. The sentence had made more sense in my head.
Tyson patted my arm affectionately. “Flynn and I have been friends a long time. More than friends. And I don’t recall him ever mentioning a Matt-yo.”
“Matteo,” Matteo spat.
“Whatever.”
Matteo turned to me and grabbed my hand which had been hanging at my side while the other one clutched Tyson’s waist to keep me from sliding to the floor.
“I need to talk to you,” Matteo said. At least, I thought that’s what he’d said. The room was kind of loud, what with the music and all. And there was the buzzing that had taken up in my head.
“Oh, no,” Tyson said, tightening his hold on me. “He’s not going anywhere with you, Bozo.”
“Who’re you calling Bozo?” Matteo growled.
“Hey,” Pretty Woman said, stepping between the two men, and I caught a whiff of her floral perfume. “Let’s take this down a notch. Matteo, I think your friend’s okay with this guy. Let’s go sit down and get warm like we’d planned.”
“This bar is gay,” I told her, then laughed. How could a bar be gay? “I mean, it’s for gays. Which you’re not. Probably. Are you les-bin-nin?”
She studied me a moment. My cheek was still pressed to Tyson’s chest because I couldn’t seem to stand upright by myself.
“Wait,” Tyson said suddenly, snapping his fingers at Matteo. “You’re Mad. Coop’s mentioned you. You ride a Harley Fat Boy?”
“Yeah. I do.” Matteo’s jaw worked like he was chewing glass.
“Huh. Well, nice meeting you.”
Tyson didn’t sound like he meant it. I felt my knees buckling and put my other arm around Tyson and hung on. Matteo made another one of his motorcycle noises from deep in his throat. I wished Coop was there to hear how authentic it sounded.
Maria tugged him toward the other side of the bar, and after a moment’s hesitation, he went. I wondered what was going on between them. Had his grandmother finally convinced him he was straight? I laughed.
“You wanna get out of here?” Tyson asked.
“No. It’s New Year’s, ‘member?”
Tyson looked down at me. “You really are sloshed.” Then he kissed me. Hard. My hand came up and clutched his shoulder until he let me go.
“I didn’t even feel that,” I said, trying to focus on his face.
“I was afraid of that. Come on. We can watch the ball drop from my place.”
I had the feeling Matteo’s eyes were on me as we walked out.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
Matteo
“I don’t trust that fucker.”
I stared at the door Flynn and that big hulk of testosterone had just disappeared through. The asshole had kissed Flynn. Kissed him.
Maria’s hand on my arm brought my attention across the table. “What? I don’t.”
“He wasn’t that bad, considering the way you accosted him, and your friend seemed to know him. Plus, he’s with the police force.”
I thought about how the guy—Tyson—had said they’d been “more” than friends, and scowled, looking back toward the door.
“And stop growling,” Maria said. “They’re gone. And we’re supposed to be enjoying New Year’s Eve.”
Pure coincidence had brought us into Flashpoint. Maria had wanted to have a drink and warm up, and I’d been there before and knew they had excellent service and were a warm place to watch the ball drop. I’d never in a million years expected to run into Flynn there. Watching him hang all over that big guy—fuck, the guy had resembled a linebacker for the Buffalo Bills—had made me see red.
“Flynn isn’t much of a drinker. I’m worried about him.”
“He’s a grown man.” She paused when the waiter set down our beers. “How do you know him?”
“It’s a long story,” I said.
“I have time.”
I shrugged. “We’re friends, that’s all.”
She continued looking at me.
“What?”
She licked beer from her lips. “I don’t know. It just seemed…more than that.”
I stiffened. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Nothing. You just seem awfully protective of him, so I thought maybe there was more to the story, that’s all.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Don’t get angry. I didn’t mean anything by it.”
I suddenly wasn’t in the mood to ce
lebrate the new year at all. I wondered where Tyson was taking Flynn. I wondered what they were going to do. My skin felt way too tight for my body. I downed my beer and motioned for the waiter to bring me another one.
“Hey, slow down,” Maria said. “I don’t want to spend the evening with a drunk.”
“It’ll take a hell of a lot more than two beers to get me drunk,” I said.
Maria put her hand over mine on the table. “I’m not the enemy.”
I met her eyes. “I didn’t say you were.”
“Then stop treating me like I am.”
We held each other’s gaze a moment before I relented. “Sorry. It just caught me off guard.”
“I know our church is pretty strict, but that doesn’t mean I believe everything they say.”
I couldn’t meet her eyes. Instead, I played with the condensation on my empty beer bottle. The waiter brought another and took the empty away.
“You’re bi, aren’t you? I don’t have a problem with that.”
Fear rose in me. “My grandmother…”
Maria made a face. “Please. Don’t insult me. I’m not a gossip. If I were, I would have said something after that awful date we had.” Her lips curled with amusement, and after a moment, I barked out a laugh.
“Okay.”
“You’re in love with him.”
“Who?” I was distracted. The night had been full of surprises.
She let out a whoosh of air and said sarcastically, “The bartender. Come on. With Flynn. The guy you were about to get into a fight with Hercules over.”
I made a face. “He wasn’t that big.”
“He really was. And hot too.”
I scowled.
“Don’t worry. Not as hot as you. All that muscle is a little too much.”
“Right?” I shook my head. “He doesn’t seem like Flynn’s type.”
“So you and Flynn? Did you used to date?”
I nodded. The cat was out of the bag now; no point in trying to shove it back inside.
“What happened?”
“We broke up. He broke up with me, that is. And moved away. But he’s back, and we kind of connected for a while again.”
“And?”
“And he broke it off again.” I licked my lips. “He doesn’t want to be with someone who’s in the closet.”
“He’s the person you’re hung up on.” Maria tilted her head, regarding me. “You don’t seem the kind of guy who’d be ashamed of his sexual preferences.”
“I’m not. It’s just…Nonna doesn’t know, and she wouldn’t like it.”
“Don’t you think she’d get over it?”
“I don’t know.” I scratched the back of my neck. “She’s pretty old-fashioned about things like that. And she just about wore out her beads when she found out my friend married a man.”
“But she adores you.”
“That’s just it. She does. She expects me to marry and carry on the Costa name,” I said miserably.
“Is that what you’re going to do?” Maria asked. “Because if you are, I volunteer as tribute.”
My eyes shot to hers. “What?” Then I realized she was laughing at me.
“You’re in love with him,” she said. “It’s extremely obvious. I can’t believe Isabella hasn’t figured it out yet.”
“Nonna hasn’t seen Flynn in years, and when she did, we were very careful.”
“I guess I understand where Flynn’s coming from,” Maria said softly. “Must be hard to come in second-best to an old woman.”
“Hey.” I jerked back in the booth. “That’s not—come on. You sound like him now.”
She drank her beer, watching me.
“This isn’t easy for me. You don’t think I’d rather be living my life like I want? I’ve spent the last seven years trying to forget about him, and then he comes back into my life and everything turns upside down.”
“And you let him break up with you again. But you aren’t interested in sleeping with me.”
I tried to follow where she was going with this but couldn’t. When I just stared at her, she continued. “You obviously aren’t over him, or you would have slept with me when I offered tonight. I mean, what are you going to do? Not find another guy—that would just land you with the same problem. So, you’re going to find a girl. Nope, you don’t want that either. So, what? You’re going to remain celibate? Until when? Until Isabella dies? And then you’re going to go running after Flynn, only it’ll be too late because he and Tyson are going to hookup…”
I slammed my beer down, sloshing it all over the table. “Stop.”
“For Christ’s sake, Matteo, put your big boy pants on and face your grandmother.”
I stared at her, open-mouthed.
“This is really none of your business,” I said coldly.
“Whatever. I’m only calling it like I see it.” She finished her beer and put some bills on the table. “I’m going home. You coming?”
“I’ll catch a cab.” I watched her walk out.
God, how did my life end up like this? I downed what was left of my beer and then ordered another. And another.
When a little twink sidled up to me and offered to blow me, I started to say no but then thought, what the hell, and took him up on it. Flynn and I weren’t together, and we weren’t going to be. I didn’t want Maria. Quick and impersonal was the way to go.
But as the guy bobbed over my crotch in the tiny toilet stall, Flynn’s face swam before my eyes. Flynn’s hair slid between my fingers as I gagged the guy on my cock. Flynn’s mouth flooded with my jizz.
Then I walked out of the bar and didn’t look back.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
Flynn
I woke up in a strange bed with a pounding headache behind my eyes. The room was dark. A bottle of water sat beside the nightstand with a note taped to it, a pack of saltines and a bottle of pain reliever beside it.
I eased up and was pleased when my stomach didn’t roll over in protest.
I picked up the bottle and read the note.
Gone to work. Stay as long as you want. Ty.
I winced, remembering dancing with him at the bar.
And that’s not all I remembered.
Groaning, I sank back into the bed before bolting up again to look at the clock, relieved to find it was only ten. Flipping back the covers, I found I’d been stripped down to my underwear. I looked around and spotted the rest of my clothes folded neatly on the chair.
I shook three of the pills into my palm and drank them down with half the water bottle. I hated fucking water bottles and only used them when I didn’t have a choice. They filled up our landfills and clogged our oceans. I’d been using a Hydro Flask for years. Spotting the marker Tyson had used to write the note, I grabbed it and wrote on the bottle, Plastic is for losers unconcerned with the state of our planet.
There. I felt marginally better. Fishing my phone out of my pants pocket, I called Jess and Gloria.
“Hello.” Gloria’s voice blasted through one of my ears, jangled through my brain, and shot out the other.
I winced, grabbing my head with my free hand. “God, do you have to be so loud?”
“Let me guess,” Gloria said. “Our Flynn got wasted last night. That’s got to be the reason you didn’t call at the break of dawn to check on Coop.”
“I trust you with Coop,” I said, rubbing my eyes with my fingers. “I’ll be there to get him before noon.”
“No hurry. Get rid of that hangover first.” She disconnected.
“Don’t you ever say goodbye?” I asked the phone. I moaned and fell back onto the mattress. “I am never drinking again.”
I looked around me. Had I slept with Tyson? Surely I would have remembered that. He was well-endowed. There as no easy entry with that man.
But I didn’t remember much from last night, just a couple Long Island Teas that had knocked my socks off, apparently. Oh, and dancing.
I frowned. Had we watched Pretty Woman?
What about the ball dropping? I didn’t remember that at all, although I thought I recalled Tyson kissing me.
When I could move without feeling as though my brain was dislodging from my skull, I shucked the underwear and took a long shower, using a liberal amount of Tyson’s expensive liquid body soap.
When I got out, my phone was ringing. I’d missed the call, and when I saw it was from Tyson, I called back.
“Good morning,” he said cheerily.
“What’s so good about it?” I mumbled.
He laughed, deep and throaty. “Remember much about last night?”
“Not really. I seem to recall you kissing me. And the Bee Gees.”
“I never kissed the Bee Gees,” Tyson said.
“Don’t make me laugh,” I said on a groan.
“What are you doing?”
“Currently, sitting naked on your bed.”
“Pretty sure I left you in your underwear. Did you take them off to roll around on my sheets?”
God, were we flirting? What had happened last night?
“We didn’t…um…”
“No, we didn’t.” Tyson got serious fast. “I slept on the couch. I wouldn’t take advantage of you like that, Flynn, no matter what you think of me. I know I used to be an egotistical asshole, but I was never a rapist.”
“I know. I’m sorry. I didn’t think you would, but for all I know, I might have thrown myself at you.”
“You didn’t, but if you had, I wouldn’t have taken advantage.”
He sounded mad, and maybe hurt. I felt like a jerk.
“I’m sorry. Thanks for bringing me here and letting me sleep in your bed. Did we even bring in the new year?”
Tyson’s chuckle reverberated through the phone. I was happy to hear it. “Pretty sure you’d passed out by eleven thirty.”
“Sorry.”
“It’s fine. I’m at work, but you want to meet me for lunch?”
“I really need to get Coop. I told Gloria I’d be there by noon.”
“Bring him with you.”
“I don’t think so. I’m not up to much more than lying around today, to be honest. I’m not used to drinking.”
“I gathered. Okay. Well, lock up when you leave.”
“Thanks again.”
The Single Dad and his Soul Mate Page 17