All In (The Den Boys Book 1)

by A. T Brennan

  Instead of answering me the man pulled in another breath and started to sit up.

  “Easy, I’ve got you,” I said softly as I helped him up. He was moving slowly and wincing, and it wasn’t until he was sitting that he let out a groan of pain.

  “I’m fine,” he repeated, glancing at me with a hard look on his face, but his watery eyes told me just how hurt he was.

  “Come on, let’s get you up.”

  As I struggled to help him get to his feet, I couldn’t help noticing how warm his skin was against mine, even under the shirt he was wearing. I felt a strange tingle in my hand as he gripped it, and when I wrapped my arm around his waist to help him steady himself, his hard body sent a shockwave through my nerve endings that felt like pure electricity.

  As he stood, closing his eyes for a moment as he seemed to be gathering his strength, I couldn’t help checking him out.

  When I’d leaned over him the first thing I’d noticed was his hair. He had long, light-brown hair that ended below his shoulders. That should have made him feminine, but there was nothing feminine about him. His eyes were a startling shade of emerald green and his features were young but still rugged. I had no idea how old he was, but I’d guess he was mid-twenties, at the most. His lips were incredible. They were full and a little plump, and I caught myself staring at them for longer than I should have.

  The fact that I was even noticing this guy’s lips was concerning enough, but even as I tried to think about anything other than how good his hard body felt against me, I couldn’t help sweeping my gaze over him.

  Thanks to the short sleeved shirt he was wearing I could see his right arm was almost completely covered with a tribal tattoo, and his body was lean and cut. He wasn’t broad, but his build wasn’t lithe or thin. I guessed him to be about my six-foot-one height, maybe a little shorter since he was hunched over and I couldn’t exactly tell how tall he was.

  Butter soft jeans encased strong thighs, and I could feel his tight, toned abs and stomach as I helped balance him.

  What the actual fuck?

  I didn’t check guys out, or notice such minute details about them. I had no idea what the fuck was going on with me, but this wasn’t normal.

  “I’m good now, thanks.” The man stood up and raked the back of his hand over his eyes.

  “What’s your name?” I asked, not willing to step too far away from him as I dropped my arm so he could stand on his own.

  “Blaze. What’s yours?”

  “Galen, Galen Wells.”

  “Well, thanks for stopping them, Galen.” It almost seemed as though he was testing how my name sounded coming off his tongue, and that thought sent a pulse straight to my dick. “I’m pretty sure my brain would be painting the sidewalk if you hadn’t come by.”

  “I’m sorry I didn’t get here sooner. What happened?”

  “Not sure.” He shrugged. “I was walking and they hit me from behind. I didn’t exactly get to ask too many questions before they started kicking me. Fucking steel toed boots.” He put his hand over his side and winced.

  “They didn’t say anything? Want money?”

  “I doubt it was a robbery.” He smirked. “I’m pretty sure you just stopped a gay bashing.”

  “We should call the police.” I reached into my pocket for my phone, but Blaze’s hand on my arm stopped me.

  “No cops.”

  “But—”

  “No cops. I don’t deal with cops well.”

  “Blaze, this was a hate crime—”

  “Like they’d give a shit about that.” His voice was rough as his eyes flashed with something. Pain maybe?

  “Blaze—”

  “I just want to go home and get on with my life. It’s not the first time some assholes had a problem with who I fuck, it won’t be the last.”

  “Will you at least let me call an ambulance?” I could feel the heat from his hand through my suit jacket and dress shirt, but I had no desire for him to remove it.

  “I’m fine.” He dropped his hand from my arm and I immediately felt a little cold. What the fuck was going on with me?

  “Thanks again, Galen.”

  “Wait.” I put my hand on his shoulder to stop him as he began to turn. “Can I at least drive you home? I promise I’m not crazy.”

  “You know, that’s something a crazy person would say.” He chuckled and the throaty sound did something to my insides and a rush of heat washed over me.

  “Good point. Feel like living dangerously?”

  “I always do.” He stuck his hands in his pockets and glanced around. “You do have a car, right? You’re not going to lead me into an alley and finish what those guys started?”

  I could tell he was teasing by his smile, but it was his eyes that drew me in as they almost shone with laughter.

  “I’m pretty sure I could have finished you off while you were laying on the ground. Why bother helping you first?”

  “Because you look like the kind of guy who loves a challenge and doesn’t do anything the easy way.”

  I almost stopped dead at his words and how close to home they hit. How the hell could he know that from our short interaction?

  “I’m good at reading people.” He shrugged as he glanced at me. “It’s a survival skill.”

  “You need a lot of those?” I asked, following him as he started to move forward again. “Survival skills?”

  “Sometimes.”

  By the way he was looking at the ground I knew the subject was closed.

  “My car is just up there.”

  “Nice wheels,” he commented as his eyes fell on my Audi SL convertible.

  “It gets me from A to B.” I hit the button on my key fob to unlock the doors.

  “Really? That’s what people with buckets say. Dudes who drive penis cars usually have a better line than that.”

  “Penis car? You think I’m overcompensating?” I asked as I opened the door for him.

  Blaze was an interesting mix of sass and salt, and his little barbs didn’t bother me. In fact, they were kind of fun.

  “Either that or you’re advertising the goods.” His gaze raked up my body, pausing at my crotch, before he looked me in the eyes. “I’d guess it’s not you overcompensating.”

  I felt my face flush at his words but refused to let him see just how much that comment had affected me. “Yeah, well I’ve never had any complaints.”

  “I imagine not.”

  I held onto Blaze’s arm as he folded himself into my car. When he was settled I closed the door and shook my head as I went around to the driver’s side.

  “Where are we headed?” I asked as I pressed the keyless starter in the car.

  “You know where Kennedy Blvd meets Progress St?”

  “I think so.”

  “I’m just a few blocks in from there.”

  “Okay. Just let me know if I’m going the wrong way.”

  “Kay.”

  As I pulled away from the curb I glanced over at Blaze and saw that he’d put his head back against the seat and was staring out the window with a pained look in his eyes.

  “Are you sure you’re okay?”

  “Fine.” He looked at me, his eyes almost burning into mine. “What were you doing out here? You don’t exactly fit in the area.”

  “I was meeting with a client.”

  “Client? Let me guess, you’re a lawyer.” He smirked.

  “I am. Why is that funny?”

  “I’m not laughing.” He smirked again and ran his hand through his hair.

  I could almost feel the soft strands running over my palm as I watched him. Jesus. I needed to get a grip.

  “You’re smirking.”

  “It’s just funny to hear people say shit like ‘my client’.”

  “Why is that?”

  “Because it’s not my world.”

  “What is your world?”

  “Asking people if they want refills, or cutting them off when they’ve had too much.”

&n
bsp; “You’re a bartender?”

  “Yup, super glamorous, I know.”

  “Do you like it?”

  “Yeah. I do.” He glanced at me and I saw his features soften.

  “Then that’s all that really matters.”

  “You like being a lawyer?”

  “I like the challenge.”

  “That’s not an answer to the question I asked.”

  I looked at him and saw that he was smiling at me knowingly.

  “I enjoy the work,” I hedged.

  “Still not an answer, but more telling than if you’d straight up said no.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “It tells me you don’t mind it, but it wasn’t your choice to end up behind the bench, or whatever the equivalent for a lawyer would be.”

  It was unnerving how well Blaze could read me, and I suddenly felt very exposed.

  “It’s a left up here.”

  I flipped on my turn signal and checked to make sure it was clear before I moved the car into the turning lane.

  “Two streets in take a right. I’m halfway down the block. House 457.”

  I followed his directions, still feeling a bit unbalanced from his assessment of my relationship to my job.

  He wasn’t wrong. I’d gone into law because it’s what was expected of me. My father was a doctor, a cardiovascular surgeon to be exact, and my brother had followed in his footsteps, right down to his specialty. Since the sight of blood made me feel woozy I’d been allowed to choose a different path for myself, as long as it had ended with me graduating law school.

  My sisters had done their part as well, and had both married doctors and popped out a couple perfect kids. I was the black sheep of the family, always had been.

  “You missed the turn.”

  “What?” I jumped at the sound of Blaze’s voice beside me and glanced around. I’d driven right past the second street.

  “What’s got you thinking so hard?”

  “Nothing.” I took the next right and glanced at him. “Does this circle around to your street?”

  He nodded and grinned in a sexy yet knowing way. “Fine, don’t tell me. I like a little mystery in a man.”

  “Oh, um...” How was I supposed to tell Blaze I was straight without coming across like a complete asshole?

  “Don’t worry, I’m just teasing you. I can tell you play for the other team.”

  “How?”

  “You thought the cops would give a shit about an almost bashing half a block from Envy.”

  “Envy?”

  “Yeah, the gay club. It’s known for some of its more hedonistic practices. Cops don’t really like coming around, unless they’re raiding it.”

  I had no idea what to say to that and instead took the next turn so I could circle back to his place.

  I had to get a grip. I wasn’t some introverted kid who couldn’t keep up in a conversation. I argued for a living and I was damn good at it. My job, my success, hinged on my ability to talk to people, and my upbringing had made it second nature.

  Something about Blaze unbalanced me in a way I’d never felt before, and I had no idea why he had such an effect on me.

  “What do you mean, hedonistic?” I asked before I could stop myself.

  Blaze smirked and looked right at me. “I’m guessing they don’t have backrooms in straight clubs.”

  “Backroom? Like a storage area?”

  “No, an actual room at the back that’s open for guys to use.”

  “Use?” I glanced at him as I turned onto his street.

  “To hook up, however they want. It’s cleaner than the bathroom, by how much I have no idea and I’m not sure I want to know.”

  “So there’s a room where guys can go to fuck? Wouldn’t there be a lineup?”

  Blaze laughed and shook his head. “It’s a big room.”

  The thought of fucking someone in front of people didn’t turn me off, in fact, I was into exhibitionism, but picturing Blaze in one fucking some random guy actually sent a tug of jealousy through me.

  “Is that why you went there tonight?” I asked carefully as I pulled up in front of the house he’d told me was his.

  “I’m around back. Yeah, It was.” He blew out a breath and shifted so he was leaning more to one side as he pressed his hand just below his ribs. “But since Lady Luck decided to take a giant shit on me today I left before I could find what I’d been looking for.” His gaze slid to mine and I could see the challenge in his eyes. He was waiting for me to judge him.

  I pulled into the back lot and stopped the car, turning it off as I sat back in my seat. I was no saint so I was the last person to judge anyone for their sexual practices. I’d never gone to a club to fuck a random chick in an open room, but I’d used escorts on a regular basis. That actually made me worse since I was paying for it.

  “What else went wrong today?” I asked, and by his look I could see I’d shocked him with the change of topic.

  “What do you mean?”

  “You said Lady Luck shit on you. What else happened today?”

  “Everything.” He closed his eyes and shifted again.

  “Blaze?”

  “I’m fine. Fucker got me just under the ribs,” he said, his eyes still closed as he held onto his side. “Fuck that hurts.”

  “Blaze.” I put my hand on his arm and waited until he looked at me. “Let me see.”

  “I’m fine, I told you.”

  “Please, just let me see how bad it is.”

  He looked like he was about to argue with me, but instead he bit his lip and nodded.

  I pushed his hands away, shifting in my seat so I could grip his shirt by the hem. As I pulled it up I bit back a gasp.

  There was a large bruise covering half of his side. It was already dark and swollen, and it looked bad.

  “Blaze—”

  “I told you, I’ll be fine.”

  “Will you at least let me help you get inside? Maybe call someone for you?”

  “I don’t need any help. I’m—”

  “Fine, I know.” I rolled my eyes and gave him an exasperated look.

  “Why do you want to help me? You don’t even know me,” he asked quietly.

  Blaze might be a master at reading people, but he couldn’t hide what he was feeling. His face might fall into a well-practiced mask of indifference, but his eyes had no filter and I could read everything in them.

  “Because you need it, and because I think you’re a good person.”

  “So you’ve got a savior complex going on?”

  “No.” I ignored his attempt to deflect the conversation and pulled his shirt down so his side was covered again. “I just want to help you. Not save you.”

  “That’s good, because I’m beyond saving.”

  I’d expected Blaze to tell me he didn’t need to be saved and his response threw me for a moment.

  “Let’s get you inside and then you can decide if you need to call someone, okay?”

  “Okay.”

  I could tell the fight was going out of him as I helped Blaze out of the car. I didn’t know if everything was catching up to him or if he was hurt a lot worse than he was letting on. As we moved toward the house I wrapped my arm around his waist, making sure to grip his hip so I didn’t inadvertently brush against his bruise. He leaned heavily on me as he draped his arm over my shoulder.

  “That one.” He nodded to a staircase and I steered us toward it.

  The house itself looked like it had been a duplex at one point, but had been split into several smaller apartments. There were doors and sets of stairs on either side of the house, and I’d guess it was now six units. We stopped in front of the stairs, and Blaze looked up at it before glancing at me.

  “I’m on the top floor.” Blaze gripped the hand I gave him for extra leverage as he pulled in a deep breath. “This sucks.”

  “Tell me if you need a break.” I tightened my hold on him, not hating how much of his body was pressed against min
e, as I started to help him up the stairs.

  The stairs themselves were a little rickety and groaned under our combined weight, and a part of me was afraid we’d end up falling to our deaths before we could get up to his door.

  Blaze didn’t need a break, but by the time we’d reached the landing in front of his door he was breathing hard and sweating slightly. I held onto his hip as he pulled his keys out of his pocket, and waited as he unlocked the door.

  I’m not sure what I was expecting, but the small space definitely wasn’t it.

  It looked like an attic, or half an attic. The ceilings were sloped on two sides and there really wasn’t much in it. I saw a double bed under one of the slopes, a bunch of rubber tubs stacked next to it and there was a guitar leaning up against the wall. In the other corner there was a kitchenette of sorts, but it basically consisted of a mini fridge, a hotplate, a microwave, a toaster oven and a sink. Right in front of the door and directly to our right was a futon and across from it was a small flat screen TV on a simple stand. I assumed the one door between the bed and the futon was the bathroom, but I couldn’t be sure since it was closed. The space was neat and tidy and there wasn’t a lot of personalization around. It looked like student housing, or at least housing I’d seen other people live in when I’d been in school.

  “Welcome to my castle.” Blaze glanced at me and then looked away, his cheeks flushing.

  “Where do you want to sit? The bed or the couch?” I could tell he was embarrassed but didn’t want him to feel like I was judging him.

  “Bed, I’m going to end up there anyway.”

  “Okay.”

  I helped him over to the bed and eased him down.

  “Do you have any ibuprofen? Maybe something with codeine?”

  “There’s ibuprofen in the bathroom, through there. Nothing stronger.”

  “Do you want me to go get you something—”

  “No, thank you.” He shook his head, shifting as he put his hand over his side again. “Regular strength is good enough for me.”

  I went into the small bathroom and glanced around. There was a pedestal sink, a toilet, a stand up glassed-in shower and no room for anything else.

  I found the pills in the medicine cabinet behind the mirror and brought them out into the apartment. Blaze was sitting on the bed struggling to pull his shirt off. Without thinking I went to help him, gripping the soft material of his shirt as I tugged it over his head. He couldn’t raise his right arm so I had to pull it down and off him.