by Brandon Witt
“So are you two a steady thing now, or…?”
She actually blushed then, grinning at him. “Yeah, he said he’d like to be.” Her face fell a second later before she added, “I don’t know, though. He’s off to college next year, and….”
She didn’t have to finish the rest of her sentence. Tommy knew what she meant. If he could get her to graduate high school next year it would be a miracle. Getting her into college was so far off their map it didn’t bear consideration. “You two can figure something out if he really wants to be with ya,” he told her softly. He gave her one more hug before he let her go. “Get yourself changed and hit the sack. I’ll raise the dead over there and kick him out.”
Colleen seemed to hear the joke in his voice and glanced down at Bobby. “You could just let him crash here tonight.”
“The neighbors talk enough about us already. Last thing I need is a cop sleeping over.”
She gave him a disbelieving smile and asked, “Since when does an O’Shea care what the neighbors think?”
Tommy snorted a laugh. “Since we count on them as much as they count on us. If Old Man Morris gets nervous about the company we keep, he won’t let us run our cable off his, and if Kelly notices we’ve got a cop crashed on our couch, you think she’s gonna trust me to sell her extras? Not even Bobby could look away over that one.”
They both knew what he was talking about. Kelly wasn’t a big-time dealer, but she had a healthy crop of pot growing in her basement, and when she didn’t have the buyers for it, she sometimes let Tommy make a few deals for her and cut him in on the cash. It wasn’t the most honest living, but it was the difference between the grocery store and the food bank for them, so it was worth it, legal or not.
Yawning, Colleen nodded in agreement. “You’re probably right,” she muttered as she stretched her arms and turned for the stairs.
Tommy watched her go before turning his attention back to Bobby. What the hell was he supposed to do with a guy like that? He knew what he wanted to do, but that fell into the “No way, never gonna happen” category. He kicked at Bobby’s foot to rouse him. “Wake up, sunshine. Time for all the good little coppers to be home in their own beds.”
Bobby took a deep breath and blinked his eyes open. He smiled when he saw Tommy standing over him. He rubbed his eyes before stretching his arms over his head. “Time is it?”
His T-shirt hitched up and showed off an impressive patch of golden skin and sharp abdominal muscles. Tommy looked away.
“After one,” he said, collecting the beer bottles and empty bags of chips and candy he and Bobby had shared.
“Shit.” Bobby sat up, shaking his head like he had water in his ears as he grabbed his shoes and tugged them on.
“You on patrol tomorrow?” Tommy asked, hating that he was genuinely curious and not just passing the time with idle talk.
Bobby got to his feet. “Not till five, but I have a few things to do around the house tomorrow.” As he pulled on his jacket and dug his keys out of the pocket, he asked, “Did Colleen make it in okay?”
Tommy nodded, liking too much the way Bobby thought to ask after her. “Yeah, she’s upstairs getting ready for bed.”
“She have fun?”
“Yeah, she had a great time. Said Wyatt was a perfect little gentleman.”
Bobby laughed at that. “Thank God. I was afraid I’d have to arrest you if he wasn’t.” He paused as he headed for the door, adding, “Though, with your little talk, he would’ve been a real idiot if he had tried something with her.”
“All teenage boys are idiots.”
Bobby agreed with a nod and another soft laugh, and then he surprised the hell out of Tommy. “Listen, next time we both have a night off, you wanna go out? Maybe play some pool or something?”
Tommy chewed the corner of his mouth so hard he thought it would draw blood, thinking too long before he answered. He had already started to seriously question Bobby’s sexuality, but he wasn’t sure how much of it was wishful thinking. Bobby was starting to look embarrassed for asking and it sent a wave of guilt through Tommy—something he wasn’t accustomed to. “Sounds good, man. Lemme know your schedule and I’ll swap with someone down at the pub.”
Oh Jesus. The smile he got for that nearly knocked Tommy over.
“That’d be great,” Bobby said as Tommy walked him to the door.
They both hesitated, gazes locked for a beat, and again, Tommy wanted to kiss him. It felt like such a normal thing to do, and that scared the shit out of him.
“I’ll… see ya soon.”
Tommy nodded in response, trying not to hold his breath, his heart beating faster as he controlled the urge to jerk Bobby closer and press against him, taste him. “Not if I see you first,” he joked, trying to smile.
Bobby breathed a laugh and walked out the door.
Tommy waited until Bobby had taken a few steps down the walkway before he closed the door and locked it, but he watched through the window just as he had with Colleen earlier that night, making sure Bobby got into his car safely, waiting until he was pulling away from the curb. He muttered a curse and let the curtain fall shut when Bobby waved at him before driving off. Tommy had been caught watching Bobby leave, like a pining teenager with a crush.
“I need to get laid,” he told himself as he turned out the lights before going upstairs to fall into bed.
“HEY, TOMMY!” Gene’s voice sounded from the bar. Tommy glanced over his shoulder from the table he was clearing. Gene was stocky, in his late fifties with buzzed gray hair and watery blue eyes. “It’s slow tonight, you wanna take off early?”
His boss was a nice guy, always willing to let him work even if there wasn’t much to do, but he always gave Tommy the choice.
In truth, they could use the money. Hell, they could always use the money, but it had been over two months since he’d felt anyone’s hand on him but his own. The kids were covered for the night, not expecting him home until after two when the joint closed, and for once he had the car. He decided he’d take the three hours off and figure out a way to make a few extra bucks later if it came down to it.
“I think I will,” he told Gene as he put the last of the dishes into a bin. “You want me to finish this load first?”
Gene looked around the empty pub with a laugh and lit a cigarette. It was against the law, but it didn’t look like anyone would catch him tonight. “Nah, leave ’em, it’ll give me something to do till closing.”
Tommy laughed and dumped the bin in the kitchen before grabbing his jacket. He thought about calling Bobby to see if he was off, but he decided against it. The two of them had been spending too much time together as it was. The last three nights they’d both had off, they ended up shooting some pool and having a few beers before going home and spending time with the kids. He loved watching Bobby lean over the pool table to line up a shot. He especially liked the way Bobby would stand close to him and whisper in his ear if the bar was noisy. But too many times, he thought he might tackle Bobby, pin him down, and kiss him until neither of them could breathe. It was starting to drive Tommy up the wall.
He had a half ounce of Kelly’s weed under the front seat of the car and decided he’d head to Jump—the only gay bar within twenty-five miles—and make up for the lost hours. And with any luck, he’d get Bobby McAlister out of his head. For a little while, at least.
EVEN FOR a Friday night the club was packed. Tommy was able to make his connection within ten minutes and did a hasty deal in one of the stalls in the men’s room. Now he stood at the bar and watched the crowd, hoping to have a more satisfying deal in the same bathroom stall.
He shook his head in frustration when he realized all the guys he was checking out looked suspiciously like his favorite blond-haired, blue-eyed cop. He hissed a curse and downed his drink. He was about to order another when an all-too-familiar voice sounded against his ear. “Can I buy you a drink?”
Even over the loud music and the chaos of laughter and conver
sation, Tommy recognized Bobby’s voice. Several questions ran through his mind at the same time. Had Bobby gotten some promotion to vice? Was he there undercover? Had Bobby taken up following him around to make sure he wasn’t getting into trouble? Or were the glances and pregnant pauses more real than Tommy had let himself believe? He hadn’t answered yet, but he could still feel Bobby’s chest pressed against his back in the crowd. Rather than say anything, Tommy turned around to face him.
The expressions that chased over Bobby’s face told Tommy he hadn’t known who he was talking to. First Bobby looked confused, then embarrassed, and then slightly terrified. Words seemed lost to him as he opened his mouth and then closed it again. Tommy had never seen him so flustered. He liked it.
Leaning in, Tommy finally asked against Bobby’s ear, “You here on official business?” If Bobby were there for a bust—which seemed unlikely at best—Tommy didn’t want to blow it for him.
Bobby seemed to collect himself, arching a brow and looking him square in the eye. “Are you?”
Tommy grinned at him, teasing and predatory at the same time. “My business is already done, now I just want that drink you offered.”
Bobby elbowed his way to the bar and squeezed in next to Tommy, signaling the bartender for two of whatever Tommy was drinking. “Do I wanna know?” Bobby asked after the drinks were in front of them.
Tommy understood without asking for clarification. He turned to face the bar again as he answered, “You probably do, but it’s better that ya don’t.”
Without looking at him directly, only catching his eye in the mirror behind the shelves of liquor bottles, Bobby nodded. “Fair enough.” He threw back his drink and set the glass down on the polished wood counter. “You come here often?”
Laughing out loud, Tommy teased, “That’s your best line? I hope to hell you’re here on some undercover mission.”
Bobby cast him a sideways glance. “I’m not. And that wasn’t a line. I was just curious since I’ve never seen you in here before.”
Well. There you have it, folks. Tommy took a moment to process the new information, but his cock seemed to understand much faster, growing hard in his jeans and getting hopeful. “You know almost as well as I do that I don’t get out much.” He was curious now and cursing himself for it. “What about you?”
Bobby glanced at him again, wetting his full lips before he spoke. “Couple times a month.” He said the words like he was confessing a sin, and Tommy had to check himself. There was a burst of something hot and unwanted burning in the pit of his stomach. Jealousy? Really? It was ridiculous and he knew it. Bobby helped tamp down the spreading fire by adding, “There’s this guy I’ve been hanging out with a lot lately, but I wasn’t sure if he’s gay.”
Working his tight throat around a hard swallow, Tommy told him, “Maybe he’s been wondering the same thing about you.”
Bobby turned to look at him then, leaning on the bar and smiling. “A guy can hope.” When Tommy didn’t respond to that, Bobby asked, “Seriously, though, what was your business in here?”
Tommy heard a note of concern over the curiosity, and he hated himself for wanting to tell Bobby all of it. He knew Bobby wouldn’t be able to look the other way, and if he did, it would gnaw at Bobby and at their friendship before long. He hated that most of all, hated knowing how unlikely they were together, how bad of an idea it was. It pissed him off, and he let it out in his tone when he responded. “You’re not my PO, Bobby. If you trust me at all, trust that you don’t wanna know every detail about my fuckin’ life or what I have to do sometimes to get by, okay?”
That got a contemptuous glare from Bobby, and Tommy could see him tense before he bit out an answer. “Are you shitting me?” Bobby pulled out his wallet and paid their bar tab, slapping the money down so hard his palm probably stung afterward. “You think I’m just, what? Being nosy? You think I ever forget that I’m not allowed into the private dealings of Tommy O’Shea? Or that you live every day with more shit on your plate than most people have to deal with in a lifetime?”
He was jerking away, more angry than Tommy had ever seen him. It looked like he was going to turn and walk out, but instead Bobby stepped closer, aggressive, powerful despite having to look up an inch or two to see Tommy’s face as he snarled, “If you still think I’m just some overprotective do-gooder and all I want is to put my nose where it doesn’t belong, then fuck you, Tommy.”
It was the fierceness of the words and the way his body brushed against Tommy’s. It was the unrestrained heat and maybe even the look of hurt in Bobby’s eyes when he spoke. Tommy couldn’t help it, couldn’t think clearly enough to stop himself. He knew he should have pushed Bobby away, turned around, and locked Bobby out of his life for good, but instead he fisted his hand into the front of Bobby’s shirt and pulled him into a biting kiss.
That first touch of their lips together wasn’t full of romance and tender want. It was animal attraction and need, fury combined with longing, and it made something explode inside of Tommy. When Bobby groaned into his mouth, Tommy opened up for more, slid his free hand down Bobby’s back, and pressed their hips together.
In that moment, surrounded by onlookers, people dancing and laughing, drinks being sipped and sloshed in the throng, Tommy and Bobby might as well have been alone. All Tommy was aware of was the feel of Bobby’s body, the warmth, the strength, and the sensation of his own tongue as it slid against Bobby’s teeth into the slick heat of his mouth.
They were breathless when they pulled apart, and Bobby still looked like he was spoiling for a fight, a wild glint in his eyes. Tommy wondered if maybe Bobby thought it was a bad idea too, an idea so bad it could only have a tragic ending. Or at the very least, end with Bobby’s career in the toilet. There was no guessing what it would be, but something was certainly going to die if they decided to let this relationship live.
Bobby worked his jaw like he was trying to chew glass, but eventually he said, “Let’s go.”
The words were part challenge and part plea, and Tommy answered both by taking Bobby’s hand and pulling him roughly toward the exit.
BOBBY HAD taken a cab to the club. They didn’t bother with playful gropes and quick kisses on the way to Tommy’s car. Both of them had their eyes set on a single goal, and Tommy knew if he let himself touch Bobby again, he wouldn’t be able to stop.
At least the drive was short and mercifully silent. He chanced a few glances at Bobby at the traffic lights and stop signs, but neither of them made eye contact. It felt more like going into battle or walking into a boxing ring than driving home for a nice long fuck with the guy you’d been wanting for months. Years, if he were being honest.
Tommy had to wonder if Bobby saw it the same way. Given the look of concentration on Bobby’s face, he figured he was close to the mark, if not dead center.
They kept a safe distance on their way into the house. Tommy didn’t need gossip flying around, and Bobby seemed to understand without being told. The windows were dark, most of the lights out, and it was late enough he was sure the kids were in bed.
After a few fumbles with his keys, Tommy finally got the door open, and they both slipped inside. He closed the door on the outside world and let himself breathe for what felt like the first time since Bobby had offered to buy him a drink. He stood facing the front door, resisting the urge to rest his forehead on it and give himself a moment to consider his next move, when Bobby stepped closer. Tommy’s chest constricted when he felt Bobby’s hand on his waist.
Tommy turned slowly. They looked at each other for a long moment, their faces barely visible in the soft glow of the single light left on down the hall. Neither spoke or attempted to get closer. They simply looked at each other, suspended there in the space between right and wrong, the space between bliss and disaster. Tommy wasn’t sure of much, but he did know this was going to end badly, however it went down. He felt a surge of anger and bitterness in his throat as he cursed his life, cursed Bobby’s too. In another worl
d they could have met in high school, played around, maybe even stayed together afterward. But here and now Bobby was just an innocent bystander in Tommy’s train wreck he called a life.
The tension in the room was rising so far and so fast it was palpable. Tommy let all that anger and all that resentment—all the fear—rise up with it. He pulled Bobby into a kiss so hard and so fierce it felt like a punishment.
Bobby surprised the hell out of him by meeting it with the same uncontrolled force, the two of them practically grappling together in the entryway. They grabbed each other frantically, tore at each other’s clothes, and fought for dominance.
Tommy let his teeth scrape so sharply against Bobby’s lip he knew it had to hurt, but Bobby didn’t pull back. Instead he dropped his head to Tommy’s shoulder and bit down. He caught the sensitive skin of Tommy’s neck. A small sound escaped the back of Tommy’s throat as an intense thrill jumped through him. He was sure Bobby had left a mark on him that would sting for days.
He finally pulled back to look at Bobby. Their eyes met before Tommy kissed him again. Both of them were breathless when Tommy dragged him up the stairs to his bedroom.
TOMMY’S ROOM had been a large linen closet in another life. With barely enough space for his double bed, he had to cram the nightstand between it and the wall. He didn’t have a window or a dresser, just an exposed bulb in the ceiling and a private place to lay his head at night.
Once Tommy closed the door, he whispered roughly, “Gotta be quiet.”
Bobby didn’t say anything, but he stepped closer, jerking Tommy down into another kiss. It wasn’t exactly gentle, but it wasn’t tainted with the same brutality as earlier. Bobby threaded his fingers into Tommy’s hair and tugged just enough for Tommy to part his lips with a quick breath. Bobby took advantage and slid his tongue into Tommy’s mouth easily, as if that had been his plan all along.
The two of them met in the middle for the first time that night, giving and taking in equal measure as they pressed together in the claustrophobic space.