by Brandon Witt
Andrew didn’t wait anyway. “You know, here’s what I don’t understand. Why all the bashings around here lately? Why now? It’s not even that kind of neighborhood anymore, at least not as much.”
That kind of neighborhood. Not the gay neighborhood. Not like it used to be. Marlon tried to play the conversation out, discern where Andrew was headed. He couldn’t; there were too many options, and Andrew had taken a path Marlon hadn’t expected. It made him wish he’d been the one to broach the subject, to have it on his terms.
Be stronger, better, tougher. Too late now, Chief.
He decided to give Andrew the benefit of the doubt, deserved or not, and just jump into the conversation like this was something they’d spoken about several times before. “There used to be bashings at Cheesman Park back in the day too. Nothing new.”
Andrew didn’t miss a beat. “Yeah, but that was when the gays used the park to hook up. That’s not happening here, at least not like it used to at the park. And, like I said, 17th is a lot less gay than it used to be.”
Again, it struck Marlon that Andrew had to be a closet case. How did he know so much about what used to happen at Cheesman? He hadn’t even been on the force in those days. Marlon wasn’t going down that landmine-filled trail, though. Plus, Andrew had actually said gays, not homos or faggots. Maybe they could have a real conversation for once.
Marlon focused on keeping his voice calm, though his heart was making it hard to breathe normally. “I think it’s a backlash. Marriage equality was passed almost two years ago. Homophobes are still angry about it, and they want to make someone pay. They see someone coming out of one of the gay places that are left and follow them.”
“Gay places?” Andrew pointed out his side of the window as they drove past Mary’s. “Like that one?”
Marlon hesitated. He knew Vahin was there. He almost expected him to be at the window, staring out, waving at Andrew like a one-man gay pride parade.
“Yeah, like that one.”
“Huh.” Andrew leaned forward and craned his neck around staring through the rain at Mary’s in the distance. “I wonder what goes on in a place like that.”
Marlon didn’t respond and wiped a bead of sweat that rolled down the side of his face.
Andrew sat back in his seat and looked out the front window. “What does go on in a place like that, Marlon? Do they have bushes in the back for you all to do the same stuff that used to happen at Cheesman?”
And just like that, the quasi-neutral tone was gone, and the Andrew he knew was back.
Despite Chief Schmidt’s words ringing in his ears of being better, Marlon allowed his tone to match Andrew’s. “You tell me. You seem to have a pretty good idea of what happened in those bushes. Did you have a favorite one?”
Andrew laughed. A laugh that sounded real.
Actually, no, Marlon realized. It was a laugh of victory. He’d given Andrew exactly what he’d wanted.
Andrew ignored the jibe, but venom dripped from his voice. “Saw your boyfriend last night. Big guy. You like them pretty, huh?”
Marlon almost made a comment about Andrew thinking a guy was pretty, but the fact of him talking about Vahin gave Marlon the chills.
“He’s an interesting… color too. Wouldn’t you say?”
Marlon glared at Andrew, not attempting to keep the warning out of his voice. “Watch what you say next, Morris.”
Andrew grinned. “Hmmm. That sounds like a threat. I’m just merely saying that you’ve made a point of protecting illegals on multiple occasions when I’ve attempted to follow the law. It’s caused me to wonder about your loyalties. Our country is under attack, if you haven’t noticed. And your boyfriend kinda looks like—”
Marlon yanked the steering wheel to the right, jerking the car to the side of the road, then stomped on the brake. “Like what, Andrew? Vahin looks like what?”
Another grin, this one bigger. “Vahin? Unusual name. Guess that answers that question.”
Shit. God, he was an idiot. “You need to watch what you’re implying, Andrew.”
For a second, Marlon thought he saw a flash of fear in Andrew’s eyes. They both knew Marlon could put the man’s head through the window without straining a muscle. The expression faded as quickly as it came. They also both knew Marlon wouldn’t do such a thing, as much as Andrew might wish he’d try.
“I’m not implying anything, Officer Barton. I say what I mean. You’re the one living a double life, not me.”
Marlon slipped the car into park. “That was my business. And you were out of line spreading it all over the station.”
A fake confusion filled Andrew’s voice. “What? Was it a secret?”
Marlon clenched his fist in his lap.
“I swear, Marlon, I had no idea that was a secret. You never tell me anything, so I figured if I knew something about you, the rest of the force had to know already. I was just making conversation. I can’t help it if you don’t open up to me like you did Sam.” His voice lowered. “Was that why Sam moved? Did his wife find out about you two getting all… what’s the PC term… homoerotic in the backseat?”
Marlon felt his short nails dig into the palm of his hand, and he squeezed tighter. It took all his willpower to keep silent. Sam had moved to be closer to his wife’s family back East, as his mother-in-law was ill. It was ridiculous to let Andrew’s accusations about his old partner get to him. Sam wouldn’t have cared; he would have laughed them off, especially coming from someone like Andrew.
“Now, you know I’m open-minded, and I don’t mind sharing my space with you, but I will have to ask you to shower separately from now on. I don’t want my body to become a distraction or get in the way of your professional feelings about me. I guess I’m not as open-minded as Sam was.” Andrew readjusted his position, angling his body toward Marlon, but let his hand rest on his seat belt release. “Things need to stay professional, and in that manner, I’m going to start taking a bigger lead at times. I have genuine concern that your relationship is impairing your ability to see people as the threat they are to our community.”
Marlon couldn’t bite his tongue any longer. “What the fuck, Andrew? You know that’s a bunch of shit.”
Andrew just shrugged. “Maybe not. I was surprised to discover that I wasn’t the only one you were keeping secrets from. When I mentioned to a few other officers my experiences with your unwillingness to ask for identification at certain times, they seemed as concerned as I feel. Especially when I brought up your boyfriend’s… Vahin, was it? Vahin’s appearance. Others noticed a clear conflict of interest there.”
Despite his fury, this threw Marlon, and he was certain the chief hadn’t heard this part of the gossip mill yet. And Marlon could bet which “few” officers Andrew had spoken to about his “safety concerns.” The anti-Muslim and anti-immigrant sentiments were high, despite the chief’s efforts to keep his force neutral.
“You’re a bitch, Andrew.”
Andrew didn’t rise to the bait. “And I’m keeping my eye on you. And the chief. Keeping our city safe is a matter meant for higher positions than his.”
Marlon glared at the fucker for several more seconds as he got his tongue back under control, then put the car in gear and pulled back out onto 17th. No wonder the chief was being so careful. Marlon hadn’t considered the senator uncle would do more than guarantee Andrew’s job and might go after the chief’s position.
A SHOT of excitement rushed through Vahin as his phone vibrated in his pocket. Leaning back in the car seat, still keeping his eyes on the road, he pulled it out, then paused before allowing himself to look at the screen. He needed to get hold of himself. He wasn’t a kid. He wasn’t a romantic. He wasn’t desperate. He wasn’t, really.
Shame licked at him as he continued to keep his gaze from the phone. If he wasn’t desperate, he was playing the part like he was up for an Oscar. It had been forgivable after he got off work the night before to text Marlon and see if he wanted to come over. His disappointme
nt at Marlon’s excuse was almost as understandable. What wasn’t forgivable was him texting Marlon again this morning, and that he’d constantly checked his cell since he’d sent the text. He’d barely been able to get through each set of reps at the gym without checking the damn thing.
And now, here he was, driving to work and short of breath because he was worried Marlon was saying no again. He deserved to swerve and slam into a stop sign. It probably wasn’t even Marlon.
Vahin started to place the phone on the empty passenger seat, forcing himself to wait like a sane person. He couldn’t do it. With a final glance to make sure he wasn’t accidentally driving into the back of an SUV, he held the phone in front of the steering wheel and swiped his thumb across the screen.
His heart leapt. Marlon.
Sorry. Can’t do tonight either. Sick. Even calling off work. Might be a couple days before I feel up to going out again. Sorry.
Yeah. Sorry.
Vahin was the one who should be sorry. He knew better. Knew better than to get his hopes up. Knew better than to initiate so much contact. Knew better than to allow himself to have feelings for a closeted guy, even one who would get shirtless with drag queens.
He knew better.
“DUDE, ROMANCE troubles already?”
“Huh?” Vahin spared a glance toward Steven, then returned his attention to the Moscow Mule he was making.
“Exactly.” Steven leaned against the inside of the bar, angling his face toward Vahin and away from the customers. “That’s what I mean. You normally don’t miss a beat, and you’ve been distracted and a million miles away all evening.”
Vahin finished pouring the ginger beer into the concoction, feeling his temper rise. “Not doing a good enough job for you, Steven? Maybe I should take the night off and let Alex handle it all.”
Steven flinched and lifted his hands in surrender. “Whoa, man. That’s what I’m talking about. You’re on edge. And you know I wasn’t saying that, so cut the shit.”
Sticking in a stirring rod, Vahin let out a breath, forced a smile, and slid the drink to a hipster a few spots down. “Here you go, buddy. Enjoy!”
The man nodded, but Vahin had already turned back to Steven. “Sorry. Yeah. I’m on edge.”
“Got that.” Steven stayed in his place against the bar. Behind him, ManDonna and Ariel were raising catcalls from the diners. Steven snapped his fingers toward Vahin’s face. “Hello in there.”
“I hate it when you do that.”
Steven grinned. “I know. Now talk to me.”
Vahin considered walking away. It felt stupid, ridiculous. He felt stupid and ridiculous. He glared at Steven. “Fine, but if you call me a lovestruck twelve-year-old, I’m punching you in the face, quitting, and taking the Mary statue on my way out.”
“Lots of stealing threats lately.” Another grin. “Duly noted.”
“Okay, well, here’s the deal.” Vahin glanced around, as if everyone in the entire restaurant was listening. They weren’t, of course. The only person looking at him was a hot ginger guy at the end of the bar who probably just wanted a drink. Hopefully Alex would get to him soon. He refocused on Steven. “So Marlon and I had an amazing two nights, especially the second one, when he wasn’t trashed and on the edge of throwing up. Amazing, Steven. Like crazy-hot sex and a bunch of maybe he’s the one feelings and shit, you know?”
Steven’s brows popped up, but he didn’t verbalize his surprise.
“So then after I leave here last night, I texted, expecting that he’d want to get together.” He held up a hand. “I know. Needy. Shut up.” Vahin focused on Steven’s shirt collar, unable to meet his eyes any longer. “He texted back that he’d had a long day at work and needed sleep. Then today, after I text him again—like a fucking loser—he says he’s calling in sick to work, and that it might be a few days before he’ll be able to get together again.” Vahin finished in a rush and glanced back at Steven’s eyes.
“Sounds like he wants to get together again, at least.” There was a question in Steven’s tone that belied the confidence in his words.
“No. It was a brush-off. Easy and clear.”
Steven reached out and touched Vahin’s arm. “It was all through text. Maybe you missed the context or something. I think you might be jumping to conclusions. You were excited about it, and now you’re freaking out because you’re worried you imagined it all.”
Yep. That was it. Vahin had been wondering that exact thing all day. How he must have projected the feelings he’d thought he was seeing in Marlon’s eyes, feeling in his kisses and touch. “No, I’m being insane. I’m a thirty-five-year-old who’s acting like he’s in middle school. It’s gross and pathetic and a good reminder of why I don’t do this shit.”
“What shit? Try to have a relationship instead of endless one-night stands like you normally do? I don’t think it’s pathetic.”
Vahin nearly pointed out that he hadn’t had a hookup in months, but that wasn’t really the point, was it? “Well, it is. So, yeah, I’m distracted. Pathetic and distracted. Happy?”
Steven started to reply, but Vahin cut him off, hating the whiny sound he’d had in his voice.
“Sorry.” He took Steven’s hand, and their fingers interlocked. “I’m being a whiny bitch, and I know it. Thanks for checking on me. I’ll get my head back in the bartender game and do a better job.”
Steven rolled his eyes. “That wasn’t my point.”
Vahin gave Steven’s hand a squeeze before letting go. “I know. And thank you for that too.” A thought hit him, and he couldn’t suppress a laugh. “You know, I’m acting like a teenage girl here, and don’t they normally talk to their moms about this stuff?”
“How the hell should I know?”
“Well, I’m pretty sure, in this case, you’re kinda like my mom.”
Steven smacked his shoulder. “You little bitch. I am not your mom. I’m not that much older than you. And I’m pretty sure I’ve got better tits than your mom.”
Vahin flinched. Thinking about his mother made him hurt in other ways. “Hey, you’ve never seen my mom. You have no idea how her ti….” His words trailed off as he realized what he’d been about to say.
Steven burst out laughing.
“I hate you.” Vahin glowered at him.
“Oh, I know. You’re supposed to hate your boss. I’m heading out in a bit. You going to be okay the rest of the night?”
Vahin narrowed his eyes at him. “I’m not that big of a mess that I can’t handle my bar.”
“Just checking.” Steven leaned forward, kissed Vahin on the cheek, then put his mouth to Vahin’s ear. “By the way, in case you’ve forgotten, we slept together about a billion years ago. So basically, you’ve fucked your mother.”
Vahin’s mouth dropped open, and he shuddered involuntarily.
Steven smacked the cheek he’d kissed and gave a wink. “You’re welcome.”
Vahin watched him walk away, a mix of emotions rushing through him. A mix of gratefulness for his Mary’s family and revulsion at the mental image Steven had forced on him. But for the first time that day, worry over Marlon wasn’t in the picture.
THOUGH HE fell back into the bartending rhythm quickly enough, Vahin never really hit his stride. He checked his phone a couple more times before turning it off and putting it back in the office so he wasn’t tempted to turn it back on and check some more. That helped, but despite himself, his brain kept returning to his short time with Marlon.
He couldn’t have been making it up. At least not entirely.
He’d felt like he was discovering sex and kissing for the first time. Like he was tasting love for the first time. Utter rubbish, he knew, but still, that was exactly how it had felt. With Marlon’s lips trailing up Vahin’s stomach and chest to claim his mouth. The pounding of his heart when their palms met and fingers clinched. The sense of rightness as he’d slid inside Marlon.
Such things wouldn’t have been felt if they’d all been one-sided. Surely.
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Maybe it had been too much. Too much, too fast, and Marlon simply freaked out and decided he couldn’t do it. Or, maybe, possibly, Marlon needed to take a step back and breathe before he really dived in.
Of course, it might be there was nothing wrong at all, and Vahin was acting insane and clingy when it was totally normal to not spend a third or fourth night in a row together after having just met.
God, hookups were so much easier.
ALEX HAD taken over the long side of the bar that faced the stage and dining room and served most of the customers. Vahin was impressed with the kid. Showed leadership without even needing Vahin to tell him to take control.
And that showed how caught up in his own shit he really was. This was his bar. His Mary’s. His, his, his. He didn’t let someone else take the lead behind his bar. But maybe it was okay for one night.
As he walked to the kitchen to grab a steak salad order, he noticed the ginger at the end of Alex’s section again. The guy was hot, totally. Vahin passed him without too much other thought, then looked back. There was something familiar about him.
He’d delivered the salad to the woman at the bar and gotten another couple of drinks before it hit him.
Vahin glanced back, but the guy was gone.
The guy from two nights ago. Marlon’s partner.
No way. No fucking way.
But it had to be. There weren’t that many gingers like that guy.
Still, it couldn’t be him. What were the chances? And Vahin hadn’t really gotten such a good look at him. The coincidence of seeing a guy who looked like Marlon’s partner when Vahin hadn’t been able to stop thinking about Marlon seemed a bit too far-fetched.
That had to be it. He’d been thinking about Marlon so much he was seeing things. Making connections where there weren’t any. Not coincidence, just certifiable insanity.
As he worked, he kept glancing back over, thinking the guy must have gone to use the restroom or something. He never showed back up.