by Hayes, Lane
When the hot water ran out, we rinsed quickly and dried off with fluffy white towels then headed back to the bedroom. Our clothes were scattered on the floor around the bed, the sheets were undone at one corner of the mattress, and the duvet was wedged at one of the bedposts. I surveyed the mess, searching for my boxer briefs.
“Will I see you again?” I asked. I found my briefs and perched on the bed next to him to slip them on. “Are you going to randomly appear at the coffee shop on my street or show up at my favorite Chinese restaurant?”
Wes chuckled. “If I did, I’d be equally surprised since I don’t know where you live or the name of your favorite Chinese restaurant.”
“I live in the Marina.”
“And your favorite Chinese place?”
“I can’t pronounce it, but it’s on the corner near an Italian place I love too.”
“Good to know. Now you won’t be surprised to find me loitering in the Marina. Or you can call me at the winery.”
I studiously avoided his gaze as I pulled on my jeans. I was going to botch this if I wasn’t careful. Not something I usually worried about, but tonight felt special somehow.
I leaned back and pressed a soft kiss on his lips. “I will.”
Chapter 5
Zane and Eric lived a couple of blocks away from me in the Marina District. It was a bonus having good friends within walking distance who loved to host get-togethers. I didn’t know if Zane was as into hosting any occasion we could use as an excuse to relive a piece of our college days as his husband was, but he had a welcoming grin on his face when he answered the doorbell.
“Hey man, how’s it going?” Zane took the case of beer in my hand and gave me a one-armed bro hug before ushering me inside and closing the door.
“Good. Am I the first one here? Please tell me Eric is halfway through the wedding photo album already, and you’ve given him strict instructions not to reopen it once the game starts,” I pleaded, only half-joking as I hung my jacket on the coatrack.
“Ha. I told him to do whatever the hell he wants. He mentioned something about showing the wedding video during halftime. You cool with that?” Zane asked with a smirk. Asshole.
“Ugh. Save me from happy married people,” I griped as I followed Zane upstairs to the main living area.
The layout of their place was similar to mine. It was a two-story town house with incredible views of Alcatraz, Crissy Field, and the Golden Gate Bridge from every window in the spacious great room. Bright rugs and vivid artwork were the only real pops of color in the space, but the main attraction was the view. And the ginormous flat screen hanging above the fireplace. I stopped to say hi to Grant who was parked in front of the television with a Bloody Mary and the remote control before making my way to the kitchen to greet Eric. I stopped short at the sight of the lovebirds engaged in one of those sappy Hallmark moments. Zane had his arms wrapped around his husband who was gazing up at him adoringly.
Gross. But thankfully, I didn’t feel the twinge of jealousy I sometimes did. I had a feeling I could thank Wes for that. Or maybe I’d finally come to terms with their relationship. Sure, I’d needed some time to adjust in the beginning. It was just…weird. We’d all gone to college together, and we were part of a bigger group: Zane, Eric, Josh, Grant and me. We were a rag-tag bunch of unlikely friends who’d shared monumental life events, including coming out. Zane, Josh, and I were bi, and Eric and Grant were gay. Eric was the only one of us who had been out and proud all through college. Maybe that was why he felt like the glue that held us together sometimes.
I didn’t envy Eric and Zane’s happiness. I loved my friends. They were good for each other and hell, they looked good together too. But other than hailing from the same Southern California beach town and graduating from Stanford, they didn’t seem to have much in common. Zane was a quintessential outdoorsman who’d turned his love of sailing into a full-time profession. He raced in major regattas with hefty sponsorships. He also sold boats and gave lessons during the off-season. He was heavily sought after because of his expertise at the helm. His good looks certainly didn’t hurt either. Zane was a six-one former surfer dude with brilliant blue eyes and sharp, chiseled features. His wavy dark-blond hair was always in need of a trim. And Eric was…Eric. He was special. Remarkable even.
I cleared my throat noisily and reached for a carrot stick from the platter Eric was painstakingly arranging. “Aren’t you two sick of each other yet?”
Zane pulled Eric around to face him then made a point of sticking out his tongue and coaxing Eric to meet him halfway before he sealed his mouth over his. Eric moaned as he threw his arms over Zane’s shoulders. Zane squeezed his ass and then flipped me the bird behind his husband’s back. I huffed at the double fuck-off and crunched the carrot like Bugs Bunny. I left it hanging from the side of my mouth as I bumped Eric’s hip and reached for a glass and the pitcher of Bloody Marys.
“Where’s Josh? I thought I was late,” I said.
Zane stuck a celery stick in my glass and grinned. “He’s on his way. I got the impression he wasn’t alone this morning. What kind of trouble did you two get into last night?”
“We—I—we didn’t,” I protested. “It was just a party and—”
The doorbell rang. Thank God.
I didn’t want to talk about last night. A general, “It was crowded and not our usual scene” was one thing, but I wasn’t ready to share anything about Wes. He felt…special. I wanted to savor the details of the evening without input. That was difficult to do around Eric; he knew me a little too well. And I had to get to Josh before he blabbed about meeting Finn. I’d left him a message and sent two texts to remind him last night was not a topic for Sunday football with the guys. Eric would go ballistic if he knew I’d gone to that party with the hopes of pimping Josh out to gain some insider knowledge. Fuck. That didn’t sound good to my own ears. It definitely wouldn’t to Eric’s.
Zane raised his brow in a show of exaggerated curiosity before tousling Eric’s hair and mine and heading downstairs to let Josh in.
“You look good,” Eric said cryptically as he returned to his chore of veggie arrangement.
“Thanks.”
“You met someone, didn’t you?” he asked. I sighed theatrically before chomping on the last of my carrot and reaching over to deliberately mess the ones he’d just lined up in a neat row. He elbowed me in the gut and gave me an irritated scowl. “I’ll take that as a yes.”
“I’ll give you a maybe.”
Eric flashed a brilliant smile at me. “I’ll take it.”
“If it’s alcohol, count me in too. I need a medicinal shot of something to make me stop seeing double. I can’t remember the last time I was this hungover,” Josh groused as he sauntered into the kitchen behind Zane a moment later.
“You look rough, dude. Help yourself to a Bloody Mary then bring the pitcher out here. Grant probably needs a refill,” Zane instructed, picking up a bowl of chips and salsa. “Babe, will you bring the guac?”
“Sure thing,” Eric preened.
I put my finger in my mouth and made a puking gesture to piss Eric off. He just rolled his eyes and called me a rude name. Then he grabbed the vegetable tray and a bowl of guacamole and motioned for us to join them in the next room.
“Be right there,” I assured him sweetly.
The second Eric skirted the island, I rounded on Josh, accidentally sloshing some of his red drink onto the white soapstone countertop. I hurried to mop up the mess before Eric saw and came back to clean and shoo us away. Josh snickered then winced as though the slightest movement jarred his fragile gray matter.
“What the hell happened to you last night? You didn’t return any of my messages,” I hissed.
“Nice try, asshole. You abandoned me. You turned your cell off,” he said loudly.
I waved at our friends when they all turned to see what the fuss was about. “Shh! No, I didn’t. My phone ran out of battery. I looked for you, but I assumed you left befor
e me. It was crowded and—Zane said he thought you weren’t alone when he talked to you this morning. Were you with Finn?”
Josh’s shit-eating grin was priceless. It was slow growing, probably in deference to his pounding head, but it was cocky as hell. It made speech superfluous.
“I’m going to say two words and crazily enough, they’re not ‘fuck off.’ Thank you, Nick. I had an amazing time last night.” He clinked his glass against mine and took a quick sip. “How about you?”
“Yeah. Actually, I did too, but—what happened with Finn?”
“What do you want to know? Who did who? How many times or—”
“Just give me an overview, smartass.”
“We went back to my place and screwed like rabbits. All. Night. Long. You name it, we did it. Blowjobs, hand jobs, the works. And all of it happened more than once. My ass hurts, my head hurts, but day-um, I feel mighty fine. Or I will once I shake the hangover.”
“TMI,” I grumbled much to Josh’s amusement.
“Puh-leaze. Tell me about your night. I saw you talking to the hot guy with—”
“When are you going to see him again?” I asked quickly.
Josh narrowed his gaze then winced and took another sip before answering. “I’m not.”
“Why not? You just said you—”
“It was a one-night thing, Nick. We talked about music, politics, travel and then…we had sex. A lot of sex. But we didn’t exchange numbers. It wasn’t meant to be more than what it was. You know that. It was your idea, for fuck’s sake.”
“Actually, I think you were going to try wrangling another date or two, but—whatever. Did you learn anything?” I asked as I lazily stirred my drink with a celery stick.
“I learned you were totally off base. We weren’t at a private sex party, you dirty-minded fucker. We were at a charity shindig. Some big singer was supposed to come by later. I can’t remember who and it didn’t seem important at the time. I had better things to do.…If you catch my drift,” Josh said in a lascivious tone that sounded funny as hell without waggling eyebrows or some other quirky affectation he usually pulled off to a tee when he wasn’t saddled with a hangover.
I snorted in amusement and cast a furtive glance toward our friends chatting above the din of the sports announcers’ pre-game conversation.
“Sounds like you hit it off with Finn. Why don’t you want to see him again?” I asked, casually pulling my cell from my pocket.
“I think he has a boyfriend.”
“What?” I set my phone and drink on the island so I could give Josh the full benefit of my incredulous expression. “Who?”
“I don’t know. I overheard a brief one-sided conversation this morning when I was groggy, dehydrated, and oversexed. His tone was…deferential. That’s all. Like he was talking to a client. I think they work together or maybe in the same business. But he also sounded sexy…lover-like. I must have looked curious ’cause he told me when he hung up he had to go because he had to pick up his ‘friend’ at the airport. Finn mentioned a private jet, but I tuned him out at that point. My head hurt, and I was done too.”
Hmm. Finn Gallagher was possibly involved with a closet-case tech geek? This might just be the inside info I was looking for. I wracked my brain for candidates but came up blank. I glanced at Josh, intending to ask another question. Something in his normally affable expression stopped me. I wondered if I’d missed a social cue. My friends never hesitated to call me on my pitiful grasp of empathy; I got lost in facts and conceptual possibilities and tended to overlook the human angle…also known as feelings. I couldn’t be sure, but I had a strong notion Josh wished he was going to see Finn again.
“I’m sorry he was a jerk,” I said feebly.
Josh waved my awkward apology away and shrugged. “No regrets. I had a great night. You need any more favors like that one, let me know. I’m happy to take one for the team.”
“Hey, what are you two waiting for?” Zane hollered. “Hurry up and bring a couple of beers.”
Josh gave him a thumbs-up sign then moved to the refrigerator. He grabbed three beer bottles and handed one to me before shutting the door.
“What about you? Did you go home with anyone?” he singsonged playfully.
“Nope. I went home alone. Thanks for coming with me. I owe you one. One more thing…”
“I know, I know. Don’t worry. My lips are sealed. I won’t tell on you.” He rolled his eyes and gestured toward Eric in the next room before turning to join our friends.
I watched Josh hand over the beers and take a seat next to Grant. Eric was perched on one of Zane’s knees with one arm draped over his husband’s shoulder, chatting enthusiastically about the crystal-clear waters of Bora Bora. Grant nodded in acknowledgment then Josh asked a question that made them all laugh. As their laughter filled the room, I felt a rash sense of frustration, like I was physically separated from the people I cared about by guilt and jealousy. I couldn’t justify my emotional turbulence because logically, it didn’t make sense.
These guys were more than my best friends—they were my family. Communication was not my greatest asset; I confounded most people with my inability to read social cues and respond appropriately. But my friends accepted me and forgave my bouts of single-mindedness with an ease I didn’t always reciprocate with grace. I owed them honesty and respect.
“Penny for your thoughts,” Eric said with a sly smile. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to startle you. I’ve been calling your name but you’re lost in Nickland. We need more chips and I was thinking about ordering…”
Eric danced around the island, happily chatting about food options while I struggled to remain present. While I was at it, I might as well try to repair any potential damage I might have caused by not being one hundred percent honest with my best friend.
“I called Finn without telling you and went to a party he’d told me about last night,” I blurted.
Eric stared at me dumbstruck with his mouth open holding a bag of tortilla chips. “O-kay. Did you—?”
“No, I didn’t fuck him.” I waited a beat before adding, “Um…but Josh did.”
“What?” Eric gasped.
“Fuck you, Nick!” Josh gave me a scathing look then tossed a carrot stick at my head as he approached the island. “I thought that was on the DL. You just said—”
“I know what I said, but I was wrong,” I snapped.
Zane and Grant joined us on cue a moment later. Great. I hadn’t planned on an audience, and now I was surrounded by a medley of confused, pissed off, and surprised faces. I didn’t know whom to address first.
“Since when did you grow a conscience?” Josh snarked.
“It was recent, and it’s pretty underdeveloped but—look, I apologize if you didn’t want anyone to know you got laid last night but—”
“No. That part’s cool.” Josh shrugged then fist bumped Grant and Zane before taking a seat at one of the barstools.
“I don’t want to lie to Eric. That’s all.”
Eric turned to me with a venomous look he reserved for when he was really angry. “You are un-fucking-real. What did you think you’d accomplish? Did you honestly think Finn was going to give secrets away while he’s getting blown by a guy he knows is your friend?”
“Well, I am pretty good at—”
“Shut up, Josh,” Eric said, still glaring at me. He stabbed his finger at my chest and growled. “For a smart guy, you’re pretty damn stupid sometimes. Stay away from Finn, Nick. Period. End of sentence. Don’t meddle. Don’t interfere. Stay in the lab. Do your fucking job and let me do mine. Got it?”
“Yeah. I’m—I’m sorry. I mean, I’m not sorry I went ’cause it was a good night, but—”
“I don’t want to hear about it. Just promise me you’ll stay away from him.”
“What happens when he calls Joshy for a good time?” Grant smirked.
“That’s up to Josh. He doesn’t work for EN Tech. But Nick and I do, and we’re keeping our personal a
nd business lives separate. Right, Nick?”
I held his gaze for a long moment and nodded. “Right. Maybe I should go. I was thinking about driving to the office tonight instead of dealing with traffic tom—”
“You aren’t going anywhere. There’s a football game on, and I’m making nachos. Get another drink, and get the hell out of my kitchen so I can get to work here.” Eric gestured toward the living area then popped open the bag of chips and turned to grab a cookie sheet. Conversation over.
I bumped his shoulder and smiled when he finally looked up at me. “You’re mean, but I love ya anyway.”
Eric rolled his eyes and chuckled. “Love you too. Now seriously…get out of my kitchen.”
“I’m going, I’m going.”
I held my hands in the air in surrender and backed into Zane who punched my shoulder good-naturedly before wrapping his arms around his husband’s chest from behind and squeezing him tight. I heard him whisper, “Fuck, that was hot,” in a husky tone as his fingers drifted over Eric’s zipper. When he jutted his hips against my friend’s ass, I retreated to the living room to the join the others.
I pulled out my phone before I reached the sofa. The urge to call or text Wes was stronger than ever. I didn’t know why and I wasn’t sure what I’d say. “Thanks for the good time?” No. I’d have to think about it. I’d call him later when I was alone. Hopefully, I’d have my shit together by then.
* * *
I didn’t call. Every time I picked up the phone, I froze. I didn’t know how to play this. I needed a plan, but I couldn’t think straight when it came to Wes. I reminded myself life could be scientifically broken down to cause and effect. I needed a reason to see him…a cause. Without one, any subsequent meeting between us would be reduced to sex. I didn’t have a problem with a sexual arrangement of sorts, but it was difficult to rationalize scratching an itch with a guy who lived over an hour away. Especially since I spent most of my time at EN Tech, which was over a two-hour drive from Napa. Our lives were so different, and what did we really have in common besides incredible sex and a few acquaintances from his time in the tech industry? Although…