by Jaime Samms
“I’ll clean—”
“Please go. You’re miserable.”
He couldn’t exactly argue.
“I gave Ira the weekend off.”
“I heard. You know he needs his shifts.”
“He’ll get them. If he does well on a few lunch shifts, I’ll give him a few of the evening. Let him work up to a bar shift. Those can be kind of hectic these days. Don’t worry. I’ll make sure he gets his fair share of hours. I’m sure he’ll do fine. Better than fine, really. The guys like his guts, wearing those skirts, and the girls adore him. He’ll make good tips. But right now, he’s got something to work out, and I want him to do it before he commits here.”
“What if he decides he’s not going to quit his . . . other job?”
“That’s his business. Doesn’t make any difference to me if he does or doesn’t. Just thought it might be easier for him to make up his mind if he had a clear slate for a few days. Less pressure.”
“Or more, if he thinks he needs the money.”
“Do you trust him or don’t you?” Kearn asked. “Because if you don’t, that’s a different thing than if he’s going to keep dancing, and that’s not his problem. It’s yours.”
“It sucks that you’re right.”
“Give him time,” Landon suggested.
“Or—” Johnny slapped a hand on the bar, drawing their attention to where he still sat in his usual spot “—you can just cut your losses.”
“What?” Jed blinked at him.
Landon groaned, and Kearn smacked Johnny’s arm.
“Dude,” Kearn said. “Chill out and finish your beer.”
Johnny just grinned. “I’m chill.” He leaned on the bar to get closer to Jed. “Very chill.”
“Excuse me?” Confusion blanketed Jed as Johnny hefted himself up onto the bar and swung his legs around to jump down behind it.
“Hey, hey.” Landon was on his feet, and Kearn took Johnny’s arm.
“Dude, you can’t be back here.” Kearn propelled Johnny to the bar’s entrance as Landon swung the counter up.
“Out,” Kearn ordered.
“What are you even doing?” Jed asked.
“God, you are so dense.” Ira’s irritated voice broke into Jed’s befuddlement, and he turned towards the front door where Ira was stalking across the floor and up the steps to the bar level. “He’s hitting on you. Kind of with a two-by-four, actually.” He fixed Johnny with a fiery look. “And if he doesn’t stop, I will put a stiletto through his nuts.” Ira’s eyes flashed sparks and Jed’s cock twitched.
Johnny held up both hands and took a step back. “Can’t blame me for trying.”
“I can. And I will.” Ira pointed at the door, looking much like one of his own tiny, spicy sculptures. “Go. Home. You’re cut off.”
Johnny saluted him. “Right on, little dude.” He smirked. “Try not to leave him unattended too often.”
“Out!”
“Just sayin’. I’m not the only one who—”
“Fuck right off.”
Johnny grinned, waved goodbye, and was out the door, Ira’s fury-filled gaze chasing him.
“That’s fucking hot,” Landon’s date muttered.
“Easy,” Landon warned, putting a hand over the guy’s mouth. “Not a good time.”
Jed ignored them. “I thought you went home,” he said to Ira, stepping out from behind the bar under Kearn’s firm shove. The counter clapped down behind him, and he jumped.
“You were really going to let me walk home alone?” Ira crossed his arms, and the pink fuzzy scarf around his neck fluffed up, shrouding some of his sharpness.
“You don’t want to be coddled, remember?”
Landon smacked him on the back of the head. “You’re an idiot.” He turned to his companion. “Come on. We’re out. Kearn, see you tomorrow.”
Kearn raised a hand in farewell, and moved off to hustle the last few diehards out after them.
“I thought you left.” Jed took a few steps closer to Ira.
“I did.” He dropped his gaze and stuffed his hands into his bomber jacket. It puffed out around him. His mile-long legs were bare from mid-thigh where his skirt stopped to the tops of his tasselled boots. He shrank down so the scarf covered more of his face. “I didn’t want to go back without you. So. Whatever. I was coming back, and I noticed Ced smoking outside that new place down by the church. I—” He glanced up, squared his shoulders, and lifted his chin. “I don’t need you to save me, but . . .” His lips twitched, and his eyes still flashed. “Maybe drive me home. You’d do that, right?”
Of course he would. He always would. He’d do it for anyone, but especially Ira. Ira first and always. Why would he even ask?
“Yeah. Kearn pretty much kicked me out anyway. I’ll get my coat.”
“Great. Thanks.” Ira pulled in a deep breath and rolled his shoulders. “I’ll wait here.” He glanced around at the now-empty bar and sighed.
“Hey.” Jed yanked him close by a grip of his puffy coat. “I will always drive you home.”
“I hate your bike.”
Jed twitched his mouth up on one side. “I did something about that. Come on.” He took Ira’s hand and led him towards the back of the bar.
Outside, the bike was sitting under the bar’s lights, a new, high-backed seat replacing the old, plainer one. Jed admired the studded saddlebags and shiny chrome for a second before turning to Ira. His eyes were big and his lips parted.
“You got a new seat?”
“It’ll feel more secure if you have a back. And the saddlebags are bigger, so you have room for a pair of leathers and your other stuff.” He hurried to the bike and brought out a clump of black leather, which he shook out. “I think they’ll fit you, but we can exchange them if you need.” He pointed to Ira’s bare legs. “I don’t like you riding with no protection, and you can pretty much fit these under a skirt.”
“You did that for me.”
Jed turned him and cupped his face in both hands, leaning down to plant a kiss on his mouth. He met with no resistance, but he kept it brief, not wanting to push his luck.
“Try these on?” He held out the leather pants, and Ira took them.
For a few seconds, he eyed Jed, a narrowed expression holding in his thoughts. “You can afford all this?”
“It’s my bike. I can buy whatever accessories I want for it. If you like the pants, you can pay me back for them. Whenever.”
Ira nodded slowly, then kicked off a shoe. He quickly put on the pants, stepping in and out of his boots with an almost acrobatic ease, zipped up, and proceeded to spin a bit in an attempt to get a look at his ass.
“It looks good,” Jed said, then winced. Seriously?
“Of course it does.” Ira flashed him a stern glare, but it softened almost immediately. “Thank you.” He proceeded to yank his skirt back down to its proper position. “If you want money—”
“I want to protect you. Don’t judge me for that. It’s how I’m made.”
“I’m learning that. I overreacted. I’m sorry.” Ira pulled Jed down to kiss him, strong and firm. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.” Stepping back, Jed fetched Ira’s helmet and handed it over. “You ready?”
“Yeah.”
The seat back on the bike did help Ira feel more secure perched on top of the rumbling beast. It didn’t stop his creative brain imagining all sorts of scenarios that left him and Jed roadkill in a ditch, but at least he no longer worried he’d go flying off the back at every stoplight. The leathers were stiff on his legs, but they, too, gave him a sense of security that riding in his skirt would have lacked. Neither thing stopped him wrapping his arms around Jed’s broad torso and wiggling as close to him as he could get.
That might have been less about needing to feel safe and more about needing to feel connected. He had been oversensitive. Cedric finding him again had him on edge, but that wasn’t an excuse to take his stress out on Jed. He clutched a little bit harder, slipping a hand inside Je
d’s warm coat where he could lay his palm against Jed shirt and feel the heat of Jed’s body.
Jed eased to a stop at the last light before their building. “You okay?”
Ira started, still unused to hearing Jed’s voice so intimately close through the helmet’s headset.
“Yeah,” he said. “I’m good. I just want to be home.”
“Almost there.”
If the helmet weren’t in the way, Ira would have laid his head against Jed’s back. As it was, he would have to wait until they were home. He was glad he no longer had to hold his belongings in his lap as they rode. His messenger bag fit perfectly in the new saddlebags, even as stuffed as it was with his dirty clothes from the restaurant.
Jed patted the back of his hand, but the touch was brief, as he had to grip the bike’s handlebars to pull through the intersection.
They were moving slow enough to get a good look at the passersby as they cruised through, and Ira shuddered, catching sight of Cedric standing on the corner.
Cedric smiled, a nasty, toothy expression, and waved.
“Ignore him,” Jed growled.
“I hate that he knows where I am. He doesn’t belong in this neighbourhood.”
“He can’t hurt you.”
“He’ll just wait. He’ll find a moment.”
“Not if I can help it.”
Ira sighed. He both loved and hated that Jed was such a bulldog. He was tired of running and hiding, hoping Cedric wouldn’t find him this time. But what else could he do? It wasn’t like he could go to the police. Cedric was smart and careful. He didn’t do anything strictly illegal. At least nothing Ira could prove.
“Stop worrying so much. You aren’t on your own now.”
And wasn’t that exactly what he’d just told Mitch? So why was it so hard to accept the help himself?
“Here we are.” Jed’s voice, soft in his ear, and the bike drawing to a gentle stop, pulled him from those thoughts. He waited for Jed to dismount, then got off himself and undid his helmet. Jed took it from him.
“Should I leave the pants with the bike?” Ira asked.
“Better not. The bags don’t lock, so let’s take those inside. I’ll make sure I have them with me if I think you’ll need them.”
“Okay.”
“I want to lock the bike up. Why don’t you go inside and I’ll meet you upstairs? Leave your things. I’ll bring the dirty clothes to mine. We can wash everything together. Save you a trip to the laundromat.”
“You don’t have to do my laundry.”
“I have to do mine. If I wash all our work clothes together, it’s cheaper for you, uses less water, and less soap. Better for the environment.”
That didn’t leave him much to argue with. Ira smiled. “Okay, then.”
“Okay, then. Now head up. No use you standing here in the cold waiting for me.”
Ira shivered and glanced around. The street was lit well enough by a mix of standard orange sulphur and newer bright white LED streetlamps. A few people hurried along, hands deep in their pockets, hunched against the fall wind swirling around the buildings.
“Mine?” Ira asked, hopeful. He wanted his clay and comfy PJs, but he also wanted Jed. Just there, on his couch, watching Netflix on his laptop, warming the cool, sterile space of his apartment with his comforting presence.
“Sure. I’ll probably go on up to mine first. Shower, change. That okay?”
“Of course. That’s a good idea. I’ll shower as well.”
Jed cupped his face, held him closer, and kissed his cheek. “Go in. I’ll be right up.”
Ira did as he was told, because it was logical. The fact that it made Jed smile after him as he did was a nice side benefit. Because it was habit now, he stopped to fix the garden fence. Maybe he would zip-tie them together to thwart their invisible adversary.
He had time to take a fast, sudsy shower and change out of his clothes into a pair of flowy PJ bottoms and a long-sleeved T-shirt. He was hanging the leather pants on a coat hook by the door when a knock sounded, a direct tattoo on his heart that made it jump with anticipation of seeing Jed again.
Smiling to himself, he hurried over and unlocked it. “Come on in.” He swung the door open, and for an instant, didn’t quite register what he was seeing. Cedric’s wolf’s grin was nothing like Jed’s soft, indulgent smile.
“Fuck!” Ira slammed the door and threw the chain into place.
“Oh, come on, Pretty,” Cedric called. “Open up. We need to talk.”
Ira leaned on the door, shaking his head. No chance was he letting this asshole into his home. He shouldn’t be here. He should never have found Ira. At least, he shouldn’t have found where he lived. How had he?
Cedric banged on the door. “Ira! Open up!”
What was he supposed to do? He twisted the dead bolt and the lock in the door handle, then dragged his coat off its hook and fished in the pocket for his phone. Not there. It was in his messenger bag. He remembered stuffing it there when it had been too chilly, clutched in his bare fingers in his coat pocket. Jed had taken the bag right up to his apartment to start a load of laundry.
“Shit!”
“Ira.” Another bang on the door.
“Fuck!”
Where was Jed? Had he gone up yet? Would he see Cedric in the hallway and kick his ass out of the building? Please God, let him come in now. But he would never see Cedric in Ira’s hallway. He’d go straight up to his place, never even stop on Ira’s floor. He’d shower and come down the fire escape.
The fire escape.
“Stop being a pain in my ass, Ira. Open the damn door!”
Ira stuffed his arms into his coat and hurried to the window. Easing it open, he peeked out. The roof of the building across the alleyway was a storey below his, a dark patch surrounded by a halo of orangey-pale light from the streetlamps.
God. He was above the streetlamps. His stomach gave a queasy roll. He couldn’t—
His apartment door shuddered under Cedric’s pounding. How was he not waking the entire building?
But then, even if he woke people, who would come out? The agoraphobic man down the hall? Old Mrs. Stanfield? Or Ruby, twins hanging onto the fringes of her bathrobe? Of course they wouldn’t come out. And he didn’t blame them.
Careful to turn his face so he could look up and not down, Ira gripped the windowsill and lifted a leg over. He inched out through the opening and eased onto the cold steel of the open grid work. It hurt, putting his weight on bare feet on the unforgiving metal. It took all his will to get the other leg out the window, and then he shook as he inched away from the wall and started up the stairs.
The whole structure rattled as he gripped the handrail and forced himself to go higher. The ground swam through the barely there floor of open metal. Faintly, he could hear Cedric’s voice lifting in anger. Shivers shook him. It was cold out, and his feet, mercifully, were getting numb from the press and chill of steel against his soles.
By the time he reached the first landing, he was sweating through his T-shirt, despite the flash appearance of goose bumps in patchy unpredictability over his skin. His heart pounded. If Cedric was still shouting, he couldn’t hear it. He wasn’t sure if that was distance or the sound of his own blood flooding into his head and raging against his eardrums.
It was almost more than he could manage to turn the corner and climb higher. His fingers and arms ached from gripping the handrail. By the time he reached the top, he’d had to squeeze his eyes shut and feel his way. If he accidentally saw through the grid and the distance to the concrete, he’d be frozen, unable to go up or down. Better not to know.
Wind slipped in a serpentine flow around the corner of the building, sliding along between him and the brick, sucking the last of his air out of his body. He reached for one more step with his frozen toes, and there were no more. He’d reached the top. Slithering along with his grip on the rail, he found the wall and all but plastered himself against it. At last, he eased open one eye long eno
ugh to find Jed’s window and skitter over to it.
Thank God.
Lifting a fist, he hammered lightly on the glass. “Jed?” He leaned his forehead on the glass and pressed his palm to the frigid surface. The lights were on inside, and Ira could see the entire area, including a small corner of the bathroom, where a toothbrush lay, toothpaste spilling off the bristles onto the edge of the sink. Abandoned. There was no one in the apartment.
Tears sprang to Ira’s eyes. He’d never get back down. Never. He was trapped. Where was Jed?
Ira banged a little bit louder, tried to call out, but his voice broke and the tears cascaded down his cheeks. Wind whistled around his shoulders, slicking along the surface of his coat and chilling the tears on his cheeks. Slowly, he slithered down the glass until his ass met freezing metal. The grid dug into him through his thin pants, and he curled his fingers into the grate. If he was holding on, the spinning height wouldn’t be able to throw him off.
It seemed like the wind kept getting stronger, the structure beginning to shake. His fingers ached with cold. All of him ached. Faintly through his panic, the clatter of feet on metal rang up from below, and he gasped. Cedric had found him. Somehow gotten through his locked door and—
“Ira!” Jed’s warm, worried voice melted over him. His feet, bare but for the ridiculous Birkenstocks, appeared just inside Ira’s line of sight, then his knee, and then a warm hand cupped Ira’s damp cheek. “Oh, baby. Come on.” Jed wrapped an arm around his waist and pulled him to his feet.
Gasping in another breath, Ira’s chest heaved and he gulped. His lungs pumped air like a bellows, and he couldn’t stop. He gripped Jed for dear life as the entire building began to spin on an invisible axis.
“I’ve got you, baby. Hang on.” There was the sound of a distant latch clicking and the window yawned inward. Ira felt like he was tumbling head over heels into the heated interior, only Jed remained a trunk of stability against his side.
When his feet hit the warm tile, Ira whimpered. Jed set him down, but he couldn’t make himself let go of Jed’s sweater. Rough wool scraped against his fingertips, and Jed’s breath washed over his face.
“I’ve got you.” A big hand cupped the back of his head, and he let Jed press his cheek to Jed’s chest. The scent of soap and clean skin got through first, calming his ragged breaths and easing into his brain the idea that he was no longer perched in space on the side of a building.