by Andrew Grey
Heart Unseen
By Andrew Grey
As a stunningly attractive man and the owner of a successful chain of auto repair garages, Trevor is used to attention, adoration, and getting what he wants. What he wants tends to be passionate, no-strings-attached flings with men he meets in clubs. He doesn’t expect anything different when he sets his sights on James. Imagine his surprise when the charm that normally brings men to their knees fails to impress. Trevor will need to drop the routine and connect with James on a meaningful level. He starts by offering to take James home instead of James riding home with his intoxicated friend.
For James, losing his sight at a young age meant limited opportunities for social interaction. Spending most of his time working at a school for the blind has left him unfamiliar with Trevor’s world, but James has fought hard for his independence, and he knows what he wants. Right now, that means stepping outside his comfort zone and into Trevor’s heart.
Trevor is also open to exploring real love and commitment for a change, but before he can be the man James needs him to be, he’ll have to deal with the pain of his past.
Table of Contents
Blurb
Dedication
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Epilogue
More from Andrew Grey
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About the Author
By Andrew Grey
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Copyright
This story is dedicated to the real Penny—a fifty-pound, brindle-coated beauty who thinks she’s a lap dog.
Chapter 1
TREVOR MICHAELSON pressed the button on the display of his brand-new Mustang to answer the incoming call. “I’m on my way.”
“Sometimes I swear you’ll be late to your own wedding, if you ever have one,” Dean Milford crowed, the way he did when he thought he had something to razz him about.
“Please. I have ten minutes and I’m nearly there, so cut your crap about me being late. I had to come the farthest, you know.”
“Yeah, yeah. If you get here soon, there’s a parking space on Second Street right next to mine. I’m standing in it to try to save it for you, but I’m getting dirty looks from the local queens and I think they might start throwing pumps at me any minute,” Dean said, then laughed at his own joke.
“I see you.” Trevor slowed, and Dean got out of the way, staring as Trevor pulled up and backed into the spot. He loved the backup cameras and sensors on the car, making it a cinch to park.
“Damn, man,” Dean said as soon as Trevor got out. “Sweet. And I love the silver-gray color with the stripes.” He stood back to admire the car, which made Trevor pretty happy. Dean was a car guy who spent his weekends under hoods and on his back—both the good kind, with guys, and the kind that required sliding under the car. Trevor was only interested in one particular position that had guys on their backs, and it involved other guys being on theirs. “When did you get it?”
“This morning,” Trevor said with a smile. He held the door open so Dean could get a look at the bone-white leather seats against the otherwise black interior. “It’s got everything, and the seats feel like you’re sitting in a recliner.”
“I’d really like to check it out sometime.” Dean seemed impressed, which was pretty hard to do. “Come on. Let’s go inside before Brent starts pacing.”
“Is he here?”
“Yeah. You know Nervous Nellie. He wanted to make sure we got a table, so he went inside to snag one. Not that we’re going to spend much time sitting. This is about getting out and having a good time.” Dean was suddenly all energy and excitement, which meant one thing. Socializing aside, Dean was here to get laid and to try to get his now ex-boyfriend, Dumbfuck Chuck, out of his system.
“Dude, just relax.” Trevor locked the car with his key fob and threw an arm over Dean’s shoulder. He’d known Dean for a decade, since they’d each looked across their tenth-grade homeroom and spotted a kindred spirit. It felt so damn good to have his oldest friend back after Chuck had manipulated Dean into a smaller and smaller circle of people, who all happened to be Chuck’s friends. How Dean stood that much stupidity in one place was beyond him.
They headed inside Club Marquee in Milwaukee’s Third Ward and passed the huge bouncers with black T-shirts stretched so tight that the outline of pert nipples was on clear display. Trevor smiled at both men, already familiar with how each of them looked without their shirts and what they were packing inside those tight black jeans. They’d each been a fun time, and if things didn’t go well otherwise, maybe he’d see if he was up to both of them at once.
“Have fun, Trev,” Marvin said as he passed, and Trevor flashed him a smile, raking his gaze over him one more time to say he appreciated the look.
“Take care, guys, and be safe,” he said, knowing there had been a few issues in the area in the past month that had made the papers.
“We will,” Gary said from the other side of the door, clearly making eye contact.
Trevor walked into the club and sent Dean to find Brent while he stopped at the bar for the first round of drinks. He knew what both guys wanted and tipped the lanky, lean blond bartender and gave him a wink. He gazed over the sea of heads until he spotted Dean’s and carried the drinks through the growing crowd to the table. He set down the glasses and gave Brent a hug.
“It’s been too damn long,” Brent said, hugging Trevor tightly. For a few seconds, Trevor let himself go. Brent was always so strong and steady, and a hug from him was like being wrapped in a cocoon of safety, even if only for a few seconds.
“It has.” Trevor sat and they all picked up their glasses. He and Brent turned to Dean. “Here’s to no more Dumbfuck Chuck!” Trevor smiled, and Dean bit his lower lip. If Dean got nervous like that, then something was up. “No way!”
“God, no. I’m done with him. I didn’t know you guys hated him so much.” Dean drank a little of his beer and set the glass down again. “I wish you’d have said something.”
Trevor rolled his eyes, wanting to shake Dean, but he sipped his martini instead. “We tried, remember? And all you did was fight us and say we didn’t really know him. So we backed off until you saw for yourself. It was all we could do.”
Brent flashed Dean a look, tilting his head downward slightly. It was a patented “you know I’m right so don’t argue with me or I’ll go all lawyer on your ass” look. “We never gave up on you, but we had to step back.”
“I know. I was the one who refused to see what he was until it was almost too damn late.” Dean shivered. “The asshole wasn’t using condoms. Did I tell you? He cheated on me, and God knows what he could have brought home.” He slumped a little in his seat, and instantly Trevor wanted to punch Dumbfuck in the face. “I caught him in our bed, and he had the audacity to look surprised. And I didn’t believe him when he said it was the first time.” Dean gulped his beer. “I was so stupid.”
“You loved the dipshit,” Trevor said. “We understand that. But you kicked the asswipe to the curb, and that took guts.”
Brent nodded in agreement.
“And a restraining order to keep him away from my house. The cheating shit tried to claim that I’d given him half the house.” Dean rolled his eyes, drained his beer, and got the attention of one of the roving waiters in tight leather pants to ask for another, but ended up ordering two. It looked like Dean was going to drown his sorrows in drink.
“Come on.” Trevor stood and took Dean’s hand. “Let’s dance.” They needed to do something other than
sit there and talk about Dumbfuck. The purpose of the evening was to get Dean out of his house and with people again.
The dance floor was at the back of the building, which was a godsend, because out in front, where their table was, the music wasn’t as loud. But as they approached, the floor vibrated with the sound, and lights flashed and swirled overhead. Trevor let the music sink into him, moving with it, tugging Dean along with him. “There you go.”
“You know I dance for shit,” Dean said, trying to pull away, but Trevor tugged him closer. This was the doubts over Dumbfuck Chuck coming out again, and Trevor needed to get him past it.
“Get over yourself. Think of dancing as having sex standing up.” Trevor turned to the edge of the floor. “Look at that man sitting right over there.” Dark hair, angelic features, pretty, lithe body, damn near perfection. “Imagine him wrapped around you on the floor, pressing to you. What would you do? Walk away or give him a display of how things could be when you got him alone?” Glancing at the man once again, Trevor let the music ripple through him as he put on a display he hoped would capture some attention.
Dean closed his eyes and moved better, though when he waved his arms, he did look a little silly, but Trevor wasn’t going to tell him that. Dean smiled and seemed to be having a good time, especially when a guy—wearing pants that Trevor swore he was sewn into—hip-bounced his way over, gyrated in front of Dean, and then put his arms around Dean’s neck, pressing into him. Trevor danced away, arms over his head, moving through the crowd as guy after guy danced up to him and then away again.
Brent was still at the table, so Trevor made his way back and took his seat next to him. “Go dance if you want,” Trevor told Brent, who shook his head. “What’s going on?”
“The doctor says I have to take it easy and let my ankle heal properly.” He shifted on his seat. “That accident on the bike did me a world of hurt, and I have to rest it. Doctor says if I don’t, it’s going to get worse. So I’m doing what he says and hoping things get better. It’s only been six weeks, and remember, it was so bad that they had to rebuild most of it with pins and stuff. Dancing is out for a while.”
“I thought you were doing a lot better.” Trevor had sat for hours with Brent in the hospital after his surgery.
“I am. But dancing isn’t in the cards yet.”
“Then we could have done something else tonight,” Trevor offered.
Brent leaned forward, looking toward the dance floor where the man Dean had been dancing with was hanging on Dean as though he were a Christmas tree. “Why don’t you go on out there? I’m fine here, and maybe someone will come over and talk to me. Not that I’m particularly hopeful.” Brent chuckled and waved him off. “Go have fun.”
Instead, Trevor leaned back in his chair, watching the crowd while finishing his drink. He noticed a few guys trying to meet his eye, but none of them caught his attention for some reason. Even the bouncers, when they made a pass through the club to make sure all was okay, seemed interested, but he wasn’t. Something was definitely a little off, and maybe he’d go home alone for the first time in a while.
“Go on and talk to someone. Doing your imitation of a monk isn’t going to help anyone, and the guy you can’t seem to take your eyes off is still sitting over there. He’s alone at the moment—his friend went off to dance—so go on and chat him up.” Brent smirked. “Give him a taste of the Trevor magic and make his day.”
Trevor had kept looking across the room to where the dark-haired beauty sat, alone for the time being. Trevor nodded to Brent, stood, trying to catch the guy’s gaze, and then sauntered over. He never lacked for confidence, at least outwardly. He pushed away the twinge of doubt that threatened to spring to life as he approached the front of the table where the beauty sat facing toward the music.
“Hi, I’m Trevor.”
The closest thing to an angel on earth—at least that was Trevor’s impression—turned to him. “Hello, I’m James.” He didn’t offer his hand, which Trevor didn’t think much about.
“I saw you sitting here and was wondering if you’d like to dance.” Trevor gave a little demonstration of his moves, which usually broke down any resistance.
“Umm, I don’t think so,” he said with a gentle tone in his voice that seemed so out of place here. “Thank you for asking, but I’m afraid that me and dancing don’t really mix.”
“Can I buy you a drink?”
The man lifted the glass he’d been cradling with both hands. “I have one, thanks.” He didn’t look away, but he also didn’t seem to be looking at Trevor.
Trevor glanced over his shoulder to see if there was someone standing behind him, but no one seemed to be paying them any attention. “Do you come here very often?” God, that was a cheesy line, but he was running out of things to ask. He might as well return to Brent and give this up as a lost cause.
The man laughed, a beautifully grand, warm sound. “No. This is my first time to a place like this. I wasn’t sure what to expect, but it’s loud and full of people who make so much noise. My friend Lester brought me. He’s dancing with a guy he met here… I think. I do hope he’s having fun.”
“What about you? Are you having fun?” Trevor flashed his most winning smile, trying to communicate that the two of them could have a great deal of fun together. That usually got him what he wanted.
“This is very different for me, and I’m not sure how fun it is. The music is way too loud, and there are a lot of strange people around. Hopefully Lester will be back in a few minutes.” He drank from his glass, his expression not changing.
Trevor didn’t need a house to drop on him to get a clue. “I’m sorry to have bothered you.” He began to move away.
“It was nice talking to you.” James took another drink, and Trevor waved and walked back to the table where Dean had joined Brent.
“Strike out?”
“Totally.” Trevor turned to look into one of the mirrors that lined the wall.
Brent shook his head. “What? You spent at least an hour at the gym today, watching yourself as you did every exercise, and you think you might have changed in a few hours?”
“I don’t get it. The guy is adorable, so I gave him my best smile. He looked through me like I didn’t exist. I mean, I’m not shallow or anything, but I know how I look, and usually guys are all over me to get a piece of this, but….”
Brent rolled his eyes and smacked him on the shoulder. “What you just said is the definition of shallow. Not everyone is turned on by the package of near perfection that is Trevor. God.”
“Near perfection?” He’d honed every inch of himself to be the best he possibly could.
“Your nose is too big and your ears stick out a little too much, but if you think about having them done, I’m never going to speak to you again. Everyone has flaws—it’s what truly makes us unique and beautiful.” Brent shook his head. “So he wasn’t into you. Maybe he wants someone who thinks a smile and wink aren’t a preamble to getting it on with a stranger.”
“He’s a guy, and we’re all pretty much the same, especially the ones who come here.” It didn’t take him very long to see at least half a dozen guys making out fairly heavily all around the club. The heat in the place was rising by the second.
“You’re so full of shit,” Dean said, as he came over and sat with them. The guy he’d been dancing with brought a couple of beers and sat at the table, next to Dean, then handed him one of the glasses. “By the way, this is Bobby.” Dean smiled and scooched his chair closer to Bobby’s. They clearly had eyes for each other, which was good. Dean deserved a diversion, and Bobby seemed to be exactly what the doctor ordered. “So what were you two talking about so earnestly?”
“Trevor got shot down and he’s wondering if he turned ugly in the last five minutes,” Brent teased.
“Let me guess. He smiled at the guy and expected him to roll out his tongue and pant like he was in some Mel Brooks movie.” Dean chuckled slightly, shook his head, and turned to Bo
bby. “My friend here has incredible luck with guys. They seem to line up for him.”
Bobby looked him over. “I can see why.” Then he moved his attention back to Dean and they smiled at each other like they were smitten teenagers.
“So what do I do?” Trevor asked.
“Get back on the horse and find someone else. The place is filled with guys who keep looking at you like you’re an all-you-can-eat buffet. All you have to do is pick one,” Brent quipped, and Trevor glanced around, meeting the gazes of dozens of guys.
Now that was more like it. He met gaze after gaze, but didn’t see anyone who really caught his interest. Then, without realizing it, he settled on the dark-haired beauty once again, watching him. Each movement, even something as mundane as picking up a beer glass, was a study in grace.
Dean and Bobby got up to dance again, leaving him alone with Brent.
“You’re watching him again, aren’t you?” Brent asked, and Trevor nodded without even thinking about it. There was something about him that hit Trevor like a punch in the gut. James sat there in the midst of all the chaos and noise almost like none of it quite reached him. That was fascinating and incredibly attractive.
“We always want what we can’t have,” Brent said from near his shoulder.
“I know, but I keep wondering why I can’t look away from him. What is it about this guy that draws me to him?” Trevor had never experienced anything like this before. He’d known more men than he could count, and trying to remember them all took too much effort.
“Who knows why we’re attracted to one person over another?”
“I don’t get it. He’s just another guy.”
Brent shook his head and finished his drink, then set the empty glass on the table. “Maybe it’s time you admitted that there’s more to being a man than a cock and some balls. That there’s another organ that’s just as important.”
“When did you get so philosophical?” Trevor asked, honestly interested in the answer, but not getting one as Bobby and Dean returned.