by Con Riley
“Who are your friends, Aiden? Tell me about them.”
“Now you are being annoying. You know my friends. You’ve met them.”
Marco dropped his hands and grasped Aiden’s wrists again before pulling one up to his mouth. He pressed a kiss to the sensitive underside where Aiden’s pulse throbbed.
That single kiss was the work of a moment that left Aiden’s legs weak.
The most intimate moment of his entire life, in the middle of a public library, from a man who drove him crazy.
“Focus, Aiden. Who are your friends?”
“Evan.”
“No. Outside your family.”
“Robyn and Chris.”
“Aiden.” Marco sounded disappointed. “Are they really your friends?”
Aiden nodded.
“Hmm.” Marco pursed his lips. “I thought they were my brother’s friends first. Now they are Theo and Morgan’s. Robyn is good with Morgan. Patient when Morgan pretends to be a brat. I like him so much for that.”
“They’re my friends too.”
“And you see them when?” Marco looked up at him. He hadn’t shaved. His hair wasn’t as sleek as usual. He looked tired and sad and gorgeous. So gorgeous.
“You know when I see them,” he murmured, tracing Marco’s jaw, feeling the rasp of stubble under his fingertips. “You’re always there too. We meet for coffee.” He wrinkled his nose. “And for poker night sometimes.”
“Who else? Tell me.”
“Mike and Maggie.” He cleared his throat. All this whispering left him weirdly breathless.
Marco smiled. “I see. The personal assistant of the man your brother used to intern for. She and her husband are your good friends. Yes, of course they are. Are you seeing a picture here yet?”
“You’re mocking me.”
“You’re making it easy.” There was the beginning of the smile that he’d missed. It faded as Marco added, “Name another friend, Aiden. Maybe someone you see from your time at college? Someone you dated and stayed friends with, perhaps? Who are the people you watch your incomprehensible sports with? Who do you catch a beer with after work on the weekends?”
Aiden blinked, wetting his lips. Marco’s expression was solemn. That looked wrong. All wrong. When Aiden tried to speak, his voice cracked. “Evan. I do all that with Evan.”
Marco’s smile was fleeting. “Until he met Joel.” He shook his head at Aiden’s sudden grimace. “Let me tell you what I see.” Marco drew in a breath before looking behind him. He stood on tiptoe and pressed a kiss to Aiden’s cheek. “I see a lonely man.” Aiden almost stepped away, only Marco still had his hands around his wrists, holding him captive. His grip was tight and unyielding. “I see a good man with no friends of his own at all. Not one.”
“That’s not true.” Aiden didn’t use his library voice.
Marco let go of one of his wrists and pressed his free hand over Aiden’s mouth, echoing what Aiden had done to him last night. “Hush. Listen to me and do not interrupt.”
Aiden stilled completely. That tone of voice made his breath catch.
“Good. That’s very good.” Marco moved his hand away. “You love and take care of your family. You hang out with Evan, and that used to be enough, didn’t it?” He paused. “You may answer.”
“Yes.”
“Very good, Aiden. Very good. Yes, Evan was enough after your father died. Before that, you had other friends, I think. There are photos at your mother’s house. You had friends before . . . .”
Aiden nodded.
“But not now. Something happened. Now Evan has Joel, and Joel sees you, Aiden. Don’t you shake your head at me. He sees you as I do.” He reached up and kissed Aiden’s other cheek. “You started to tell me something yesterday. I think we need to finish that conversation. I think you might need to have some more conversations with other people too.” He quieted Aiden’s rumble of disagreement with a stern look.
Aiden closed his eyes when Marco said, “More than anything in the world, I think you need a friend to confide in. Someone just for you. After last night, that seems very important. More important than what I wanted.”
Aiden blinked, confused. “What did you want?”
Marco let go of his wrist. “It doesn’t matter. I think you need me to be a friend.”
“You’re not my friend.” He saw the way Marco’s lips pressed together, and he backtracked. “I mean, I guess you are—”
“Hush.”
Aiden did.
“You say I’m not your friend, but I’m not your enemy either. Let me be clear. I want to be your lover.” Marco smiled. How he did that while looking sad at the same time, Aiden didn’t know. “I think we could be magnificent together. Perfetti. No matter how much you deny it, last night your body told me that you agree.” Marco’s inward breath was huge. “But I think you need a friend right now more than anything. Someone you can talk to without complication. At least until you resolve why you’ve chosen to be so lonely.”
Aiden stood, surrounded by shelves holding self-help manuals, and watched as Marco walked away for the second time that day.
Chapter Six
“You make that look so easy.”
Aiden glanced up from the pile of shirts he’d been refolding as a customer walked behind him. Setting right the chaos left by patrons had taken up all his time since getting back to work that afternoon. He smiled in acknowledgment and then resumed frowning, automatically going through motions that were swift and well-practiced.
As he folded one more shirt, he took another quick look. The man who had spoken had walked around the central island that Aiden was restocking, and most of him was now hidden by a carton of merchandise. With the man visible only from the chin up, Aiden took in a tanned, open-looking face.
This guy looked vaguely familiar. Where did he know him from? Maybe it was his hair; plenty of regular customers had similar super-short buzz cuts. But when the man spoke again, Aiden was pretty certain he recognized his voice too. Perhaps they’d shared a high-school class together; he looked around Aiden’s age.
“I’m looking for Aiden Daly.”
“That’s me.”
The man stepped around the carton, his police officer’s uniform making Aiden pay more attention. “You called in a complaint? I’m Officer Carter. We’ve exchanged voicemails a few times about . . . .” He consulted some papers. “Levi Medina?”
“Yeah. Yeah I did.” Aiden looked around. Customers were busy selecting purchases, some of them getting closer to the register. “You want to talk right now?”
“I need to wait for my partner.” He smiled and added, “He’s gonna be a few minutes. Mind if I use your counter to get the paperwork started?”
Aiden nodded his agreement and then focused on his work when the officer walked away. There was still a lot to get done. He hadn’t realized how much he’d come to rely on Levi to stay on top of everything. It was a complete pain in the ass to work this way. The store looked terrible, clothing racks half empty and boxes blocking the aisles, but with no other staff prepared to cover the shift, Aiden’s choices had been limited. It was either have a messy store for a few hours, or stay late and stock up after closing.
There was no way he was staying late. Not tonight. No way at all. He had a whole list of things to talk about with Marco. Things that couldn’t wait. Like what exactly he’d meant about being Aiden’s friend, and how in hell he saw them backtracking from the new-to-them physical element of their . . . relationship?
How could they just be friends now? He didn’t know how to frame what had happened between them.
What really bothered him was how he hadn’t been able to stand the sight of the man right up until yesterday. His housemate had annoyed the crap out of him every single day with his relentless curiosity and nosy questions. Now Aiden was torn between still feeling intense aggravation whenever Marco crossed his mind and wondering if Marco was thinking about him too. It made no sense.
Aiden had been in
constant motion since he got back to the store, but keeping his hands busy wasn’t really helping. This busywork left him too free to think about Marco. He was pretty certain that his life had been so much easier when he only had to think about his family.
Aiden put down the shirt he’d managed to mangle instead of folding neatly and pressed the heel of his palm against his breastbone. Jesus. The indigestion he’d had earlier roared back to life, searing him inside.
The police officer looked up from where he stood at the counter and then took a few steps in Aiden’s direction. Light-green eyes blinked at him. “Are you okay?”
Aiden nodded. He was fine. Really. He had to be. “It’s just something I ate. I’m good.” Those eyes sure were familiar. Where the heck had he seen this guy before?
That was one of the things about owning a business: he recognized people everywhere he went. Maybe that’s why Marco’s no-friends theory had seemed so ridiculous. Aiden talked with people all day long, seven days a week, fifty-two weeks a year. The last break he’d had was when he’d trusted Levi with the keys for two days while he’d gone to help out Peter and Sean in Oregon. Dammit. Peter and Sean. They were his friends. He made a mental note to go rub Marco’s nose in that fact the moment he got home.
Realization struck him like a physical blow: he’d trusted Levi with the keys to the store.
Did he still have the spare set?
Dammit all to hell.
The cop now stood at the far side of the island Aiden worked at. “Sir, you really don’t look too good. Are you sure you’re okay?”
Aiden blinked at the cop’s words. “Yeah, yeah, I’m fine. I just remembered something.” Changing the locks wouldn’t be cheap, but if Levi still had a spare set that meant he could come back anytime to steal more. Aiden sagged, weighed down all over again before he remembered a conversation that he’d only half tuned in to.
Levi had given back the spare set.
Relief left him unsteady for a moment.
An unsubtle cough finally caught his attention—people were waiting in line at the register, clutching armfuls of clothing. “I’m sorry. I’m short-staffed right now. Can you excuse me for a minute?” He was already walking away as he spoke.
It didn’t take long to ring up the purchases, and Aiden went through the motions mindlessly. Oh, he was outwardly attentive all right, checking that his customers had found everything they needed and reminding them that new lines came in weekly. He dealt with their transactions smoothly, smiling as he did so. The whole time, his thoughts wavered between Marco, Levi—fucking Levi—and the cop he’d just been talking with. They’d met before, and not here in the store either. He was sure of it.
When he turned to scan the shop floor, looking for blond buzz-cut hair, he jumped. The man was right there.
“My partner should be here in just a minute. Looks as if this is a busy time. We’ll try to keep it short.” He paused and then looked around the store. People wandered the aisles, touching clothes, undoing all of Aiden’s earlier good work, casually shaking out and assessing garments before tossing them back on the island. “Jeez, that’s gotta drive you crazy.”
Aiden chuckled. “Not as much as you’d think. It depends on the day. Right now I’m grateful for any potential sales. If that means refolding a few shirts, I can live with it. Some days, though, I come pretty close to homicide.”
“Please resist that urge, sir.” The police officer assumed a stern expression and then grinned. “I gotta tell you, I come close to killing every time my partner eats in our patrol car.” He shuddered. “The man’s a mess. I just left him in the bathroom. Donut jelly everywhere.” He looked at his notepad again. “You got somewhere we can do this in private when he gets here?”
Aiden shook his head. “Not while the store is open. I’m on my own right now. I guess I could close up for a few minutes.” He really didn’t want to. Levi’s theft was bad, but a day’s distance and so many moments of madness later, and he felt like he finally might have some perspective.
He’d never see the cash Levi had stolen again.
He could almost deal with its loss, as long as he didn’t think too hard about Levi. The way he’d personally let Aiden down still left him feeling stuck somewhere between sick and violent.
“No need to close right now.” The police officer looked at his watch. “Maybe I should make a start. I need to check a few specifics, but I’m good here if you are.”
I’m good here.
Aiden frowned. If he didn’t have so much on his mind already, he’d probably know why that phrase rang a bell. He nodded in all the right places as he agreed with the specifics the officer read out to him. Adding to the preliminary details he’d phoned in didn’t take too long. Officer Carter asked if Aiden had an accurate record of how much cash had been stolen and a copy of any recorded evidence for the district attorney to review.
“I’ll get to that after closing. I know the totals are way off, but I haven’t had time to gather all the information together yet.” Maybe he should have gotten on that sooner, rather than building a fence between Peter’s backyard and his neighbor’s or wasting time wondering about everything Marco had said at the library. He had no idea where his focus had gone lately. He should have noticed the cash discrepancies so much earlier too. He’d put it down to a problem with the register, not considering for a moment that the logical answer was his five-foot-six, scared-of-his-own-shadow store clerk.
“Can you give me Mr. Medina’s home address? And how much money do you think is missing?” The officer dropped his pencil, then bent down to retrieve it.
Aiden looked down as the officer knelt, reaching under the counter to find his pencil. Jesus, what the hell was wrong with him? He was dealing with a theft—serious fucking business—so why did he have such a weird sense of déjà vu? He cleared his throat. “I’m still working on the figures. Should I call the station when I know exactly how much he stole? Which number is best to get ahold of you?”
Green eyes crinkled at the corners as they looked up at him. “You’ve already got my number. I said you could call me any time. I kinda hoped you would.”
Oh.
I’m good here.
Blond hair under his fingers.
Green eyes looking up at him.
He’d gotten blown in a club bathroom only days after Marco moved in, needing some anonymous, no-strings relief to take the edge off his frustration. Living with a man who walked around half-naked, looking like the image of his very first crush, had taken some adjusting to. He’d told himself that there was nothing attractive about Marco, not in comparison to Ben, anyhow. Looking back, had he wanted Marco—annoying and attentive, exasperating and encouraging—from the get-go?
Going out and getting off had been a onetime thing. Something Aiden usually did away from the city, not right on his doorstep. He’d walked into the club alone, feeling brittle and agitated, with far too much on his mind. Two beers later, he hadn’t felt quite as awkward when someone had bumped into him on their way off the dance floor. He’d watched the man for a while—shorter than him but solid, obviously strong—as he talked with friends. His wide smile had been pretty constant, and Aiden caught himself wondering what his life must be like to be so relaxed and happy in his skin. Aiden had turned his back, feeling melancholy, sure that looking for some quick release had been a mistake, here where everyone seemed to know each other.
Why Aiden had then turned back and approached the blond man, he couldn’t say. He’d taken the guy to the bathroom, holding his hand like he already knew him, and it had been easy. Everything from that moment on had been. His normal deal was to hook up online and meet in some out-of-town motel, but those irregular, hastily arranged meetings had nothing on the almost-out-of-body experience that getting blown, virtually in public, had engendered.
Aiden had asked if the man wanted to go somewhere else, but his smiling bathroom partner had said, “I’m good here,” and he had been. He’d gotten Aiden hard good
and fast and then dropped to his knees. His hair had been longer then. It had felt soft—warm and silky—and his hands had been incredibly warm too, cupping and tugging at Aiden’s balls as he blew him. He’d pressed Aiden’s cock against his belly when he bent farther to suck and mouth them before blowing him again, and that had felt amazing.
It had been exactly what he’d needed, and he’d come hard, almost falling, clutching at too-smooth tile until he finally found his balance. His loudly repeated thank-yous had echoed around the bathroom right when the club’s music had faded between tracks. After a long moment of sudden silence, they’d both cracked up.
Yeah, that smile was distinctive. He’d smiled the whole time Aiden jerked him off too, coating his hand with his load only minutes later.
“Andrew. You’re Andrew, right?” Aiden glanced around the store, making sure no customers were close by.
“It’s Drew. It’s good to see you again, Aiden. Maybe you should deal with my partner. He’s most likely gotten distracted in the food court, looking for the messiest shit they sell to eat in the car later.” That smile was memorable, all right, wide and bright, lighting his face as he looked up at Aiden from where he knelt. Fuck, his mouth had felt so good.
“Do you want me to go get him?” Drew asked. “I’ll understand if you do. It’s cool. This is why I wanted to wait for him.” His hand wrapped around the back of Aiden’s knee, squeezing once before letting go. “I thought you must be from out of town. I didn’t know you lived here in the city. It’s good to see you again, but I understand you might want to forget we met before.”
“No, no.” Aiden really didn’t. “It just took me a moment to make the mental connection. I have a lot on my mind. I’m sorry. I didn’t recognize you in your uniform, or with shorter hair.”
Drew smiled even wider. Aiden wasn’t sure how that was possible.
“What finally jogged your memory?” He pointedly looked at Aiden’s crotch before glancing up and winking.