A black BMW convertible was parked outside of Max’s when Brody got home. There was only one person he knew that drove a car like that. Brody opened his door and got out of his truck.
“Finally! I have been looking all over the place for you, Brody!”
Brody couldn’t help but smile at hearing the voice he’d know anywhere. Turning around, he laughed, holding his arms out for his best friend. “Gabe, what are you doing here?”
Gabe walked over, welcoming the embrace. “Can’t a guy visit his best friend? Does there need to be a reason?” Gabe held Brody tight and all the tension left his body.
Brody pulled back and studied his friend, still not believing he was actually there. Man, Brody had never been happier to see that thick, short black hair and huge pearly white grin. Gabe was probably the best looking person Brody knew. In his designer jeans and expensive sweater, he looked like he’d walked off a runway. The guy was Armani while Brody was Target, but they were like brothers. “Come on. My apartment is up these stairs.” Brody wrapped his arm around his friend’s shoulders as they climbed the wooden steps.
“Wow, Brody, really living in style here in Small Town, America.”
“It serves its purpose.” Brody opened his door and rolled his eyes when Gabe dramatically gasped at his first sight of the place.
“It’s a room, Brody. It’s a fucking room, not an apartment. Why the hell are you living like this?” Gabe stood in the center of the small space, one arm holding his stomach while the other hand covered his mouth. He spun in a circle and wrinkled his nose dramatically.
Brody knew it was small. Okay, so it was more like a hotel room. “It’s not that bad. No point in getting a bigger place for the short time I’ll be here.”
Gabe stopped and abruptly closed his mouth. His eyes softened as he said, “Well fuck, Brody. I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay, man. It is what it is.” Brody shrugged his shoulders and sat down on the edge of his unmade bed.
Gabe crossed the room and sat down next to him, his eyebrows drawn. He rubbed Brody’s back and asked, “How is she?”
Shaking his head, Brody exhaled. “Not good, Gabe. Not good at all.” He looked up at Gabe. “She told me today that she was never ashamed of me. She was scared of him. She was trying to protect me from him.”
“Shit. Well, at least that’s good right?” Gabe grabbed Brody’s hand and squeezed it.
“I guess. I mean, yeah, it is but…Gabe, I left her here, left her to bear the burden on her own. We lost so many years together because of that son of a bitch. It makes me want to fucking puke when I think about it. And now it’s too late.”
Gabe rubbed Brody’s back. “You’re here now, Brody. I’m sure that means the world to her.”
“Thanks. I keep trying to tell myself that.” Suddenly, Brody eyed Gabe, one eyebrow raised.
Gabe looked at him like he was crazy. “What?”
“Why are you really here, Gabe? What happened this time?”
Gabe gave Brody a shocked look, trying, and failing, to act like he had no idea what Brody meant. “Nothing happened.”
“Gabe,” Brody said in warning.
“What? Why do you assume something happened?” Gabe wasn’t making eye contact—a sure sign that something had happened.
“Gabriel,” Brody said, this time using his full name with more force.
Gabe turned his face away, mumbling something, and the only word Brody heard was boss. “What was that? I couldn’t quite hear you?” Brody held a hand up to his ear, mocking his friend.
“Ugh! Fine! If you must know, I fucked my boss, okay?” Gabe tried to keep a serious face then burst out laughing. “And his wife found out. Okay, found out is an understatement. The old bitch walked in while Mr. Sexy CEO had me bent over his mahogany executive desk.” Gabe crudely pumped his hips as if he were fucking the air. “Most people have no idea how delicious it can be when your boss rides your ass.” Gabe winked at Brody, laughing at his little joke.
“Gabe! You’ve got to stop doing that. Why do you have to go after married men?” As much as Brody should’ve been disgusted with his friend, he couldn’t help but laugh. Gabe had been this way ever since Brody met him. Hell, Brody seemed to be the only exception to the rule—however, they’d never actually fucked. The guy didn’t even need a job; he was just bored most of the time.
“You know nothing pisses me off more than a guy who can’t admit he’s gay. Man the fuck up and fuck a man.” Gabe rolled his eyes and shook his head. “What’s the big deal?”
“Things aren’t always that black and white, Gabe. You know that.” Brody huffed out in annoyance and stood up, walking over to his tiny kitchenette. He’d managed to get to the store, and boy was he fucking happy for a beer right about now.
Gabe walked over and began opening the few cabinets and drawers Brody had, clearly looking for something.
“What are you doing?” Brody asked.
“Looking for your seasonings. Don’t you cook? A man needs to season the foot before he inserts it into his mouth.” Gabe glanced at Brody out of the corner of his eye, a sly smile forming on his face.
“You’re an ass.” Brody chuckled.
“Ah, but you love me anyway, don’t you?” Gabe nudged Brody’s arm.
Brody shook his head and pinched the bridge of his nose. “Yeah, for some fucking reason, I do.”
Gabe placed a hand over his heart and sighed, batting his eyes. “You say the sweetest things, Brody Walker.” He turned and crossed the small room to sit on the bed.
“Do you want a beer?”
Gabe looked at him like he’d lost his mind. “Unless you can magically turn that beer into a glass of merlot, I’ll pass.”
Sometimes Brody wondered how the two of them had ever become such close friends. He liked beer, working hard with his hands, getting dirty, and trucks. Gabe liked expensive wine, the only hard work he did with his hands was jacking off a man or himself, and he drove a BMW convertible.
Gabe stood up and put his hands on his hips. “On second thought, put that beer down. You’re going to take me to the closest restaurant with a bar, and I’m going to pay. You’ve had enough to deal with over the past couple of weeks. Let’s go out so you can forget for a night. I’ll drive, you get batshit wasted. Sound good?”
There it was. The reason Brody respected this man more than any other in his life. Gabe had been there for him through one of Brody’s toughest nights, though they barely knew each other at the time, and he’d been there ever since.
“Isn’t the phrase batshit crazy?”
“You say tomato,” Gabe gave him a look of derision, “and I say al pomodoro.”
Brody hung his head and laughed. He didn’t know what to do with the guy, but damn, was he happy that Gabe was there.
They drove to the only nice sit-down restaurant in town—an Italian place, Esposito’s, with pizza in the front and a dining room in the back. Gabe made comments all the way there about small town living, and how he couldn’t believe Brody grew up there.
“You are so dramatic, Gabe. It’s not that bad,” Brody said, as they both got out of the car.
“Whatever, all I’m saying is this waterin’ hole better have some merlot.” Gabe exaggerated his words with a deep southern accent.
Brody smacked him on the arm. “You do realize you’re in New Hampshire and not Louisiana, right?”
Gabe shrugged his shoulders. “Is there a difference? If it isn’t Boston, it’s all the same to me.”
Brody asked for a table in the back corner, knowing Gabe liked to be able to scan the room. It may not be Boston, but Gabe was always on the hunt. Brody wasn’t so sure his friend would find what he was looking for in this town, but Brody knew better than to judge any book by its cover―he’d learned that lesson well.
Gabe wasted no time learning the name of the waitress and ordering a merlot and Brody’s beer. The man didn’t shy away from any situation. In fact, situations that most people would back down from, Gabe saw as a challenge. The waitress brought over their drinks and said she’d return in a few minutes for their order. Brody watched as Gabe took his first sip and practically gagged.
“Maybe I should switch to the hard stuff,” Gabe said, rubbing his throat as he grimaced.
“I’m sure it’s not that bad. Besides, you said you’d drive tonight, remember?” Brody chuckled and opened his menu.
“Ugh. Fine. I’ll settle for the dollar store wine tonight, but you better find me a liquor store.” Gabe waved his hand at the offensive drink. “This is not going to cut it on the regular.”
Just as Brody knew he would, Gabe scanned the room, scoping out the local men. His eyes landed on a table to the right. “Now, who is that tall, dark, and handsome that’s just about to leave?”
Brody looked over his shoulder and immediately turned back to Gabe, a growl in his voice. “He’s off limits.”
Gabe eyed Brody curiously, and then said, “My, my. Is there something you’re not telling me, Brody?”
“What? No,” he stressed harshly. Brody squirmed in his seat, feeling like he was under a microscope now. “Just…not him, okay? Or the guy standing next to him.” He knew Gabe wasn’t buying it, so he added, “I work for them. Besides, they are out and proud. Not your type.”
There was a devilish gleam in Gabe’s brown eyes as he smirked, asking, “So which one do you have your eye on?”
Like a magnet, Brody’s eyes found Owen, taking in the sight of him from head to toe. His dark brown hair was sticking up in the front, like he’d just run his fingers through it. Brody wondered if his hair was as soft as it looked. He always had this flushed color to his otherwise porcelain skin, making it look so warm. And those damn blue eyes! God, they were the bluest he’d ever seen. He didn’t remember them being that blue back in high school, but then, Brody had been in a fog throughout the four years he was there.
“Ah, so...tall, dark, and handsome is your target. Don’t blame you. He’s delicious.” Gabe looked back at Owen and licked his lips as if he’d already tasted him.
A jealousy unlike Brody had ever known surged through him. The feeling surprised him, but he didn’t back down. “Gabriel,” he growled in warning. It’s not like Brody had any sort of claim over Owen. He couldn’t even call him a friend. But that didn’t stop his pulse from going into overdrive whenever Owen was around.
“Okay, okay. He’s off limits. Got it.” Gabe smiled and said, “At least introduce me.”
Suddenly, Brody’s heartbeat accelerated at the thought of introducing Gabe to Owen and Jonah. Before he could come up with some excuse, he looked up to see that Owen had noticed them sitting there. Too late now.
As he cautiously waved at Owen and Jonah, he turned his head to Gabe and said under his breath, “They don’t know.”
Gabe snapped his head in Brody’s direction, understandably confused. “What? Why on earth not?”
Just before Owen and Jonah reached the table, Brody managed to get out, “Because he wouldn’t believe me anyway.”
~ɤ~
“Hey, Brody.” Jonah was the first to speak, thank God. Owen couldn’t seem to find his voice at the moment.
“Hey, Jonah...Owen.” Brody looked at both of them, his eyes landing on Owen last. “Do you guys want to sit down?”
As if Jonah knew that Owen would come up with some kind of excuse to say no, he immediately answered, “Yeah, for a minute. We just finished eating.”
They pulled out seats, and Jonah sat next to Brody while Owen sat on the other side of the table, next to the other guy. Brody’s intense, brown eyes were still on Owen. Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea.
“Well,” the dark haired man sitting next to him broke the awkward moment, “since my dear friend here has completely forgotten his manners, let me introduce myself.” The guy reached out to shake Jonah’s hand first. “I’m Gabriel D’Angelo. Wine connoisseur, lover of all things designer, and ironically, this guy’s best friend.” Gabe nudged his head over in Brody’s direction. “But you can call me Gabe.”
Was this guy for real?
“Jonah Taylor.” Jonah shook the guy’s hand, smiling in his usual friendly manner.
“Nice to meet you, Jonah Taylor.” Gabe held onto Jonah’s hand a little longer than necessary then turned his attention to Owen, stretching his hand out to him.
Owen bit his cheek, squashing any smart-ass response, and answered, “Owen Richards.” He couldn’t blame the alcohol for the tight grip he held on Gabe’s hand. Fuck, he’d only had one beer with dinner. There was something about dominating a handshake that gave a man a rush of superiority. And this guy rubbed him the wrong fucking way.
“Owen Richards. Quite the handshake there. Do you work out?” Before Owen could answer, Gabe jumped, immediately shooting Brody a dirty look and rubbing his leg under the table. “What? It was just a question.” Then he looked back at Owen. “Such a temper on this one.” Gabe smiled and shook his head.
This had to be a fucking joke, right? Brody Walker: high school bully, homophobe, and brute...best friends with a clearly gay and highly flirtatious man? Owen’s knee bounced up and down under the table, a nervous habit that came out whenever his pulse accelerated and his defenses went up. He felt like he was in the fucking Twilight Zone. There he was, sitting at a table with a guy that used to make his life a living hell for being gay. Now he was meeting the guy’s gay best friend? And to make matters worse, Owen couldn’t get Brody out of his fucking mind. Ever since he almost crashed into him that day, Brody Walker had been doing laps in Owen’s head. What the hell was wrong with him?
Owen vaguely heard Jonah and Gabe talking bullshit about nutrition and each of them living in big cities. He could’ve contributed to the conversation, having spent several years in New York City himself, but anger had him keeping quiet. Music played, conversations murmured around them. Somewhere in the background, he heard the loud obnoxious laugh of a woman trying a little too hard to impress a guy.
But his eyes stayed glued to Brody’s.
Owen was confused by the man. He hated feeling flustered, and he fucking hated being confused about a guy that he absolutely did not want to care about. Even more, he hated that, as Brody stared back at him, his heartbeat sped up and his palms began to sweat. Most of all, he hated that he was trying to figure out what Brody was thinking.
And he’d had enough.
“Uh, I have to get up really early tomorrow. Jonah, you ready to get going?” All three men looked at him, and he knew he’d said that kind of abruptly.
Jonah looked at Brody and Gabe, as if he had to apologize for Owen’s rude behavior. And then, he actually fucking did. “Sorry, guys. Hate to cut this short.” Jonah reached a hand out to Gabe. “It was nice to meet you.” Then he turned to Brody. “We’ll see you on Monday, Brody?”
Brody smiled at Jonah, nodded, and then looked back at Owen.
Owen couldn’t stomach saying it was nice to meet Gabe. No point in lying. So he settled for saying, “Have a good night, guys.” Then he turned to leave. Once they were outside, he waited for Jonah’s lecture.
“What the hell was that?” Jonah asked.
And so it begins. Owen kept walking toward the car, not having an answer for what just happened in there. Jonah grabbed his arm, stopping him before he could open the car door.
“Answer me, Owen. What the hell was that? You sat there and sulked the whole time, bouncing your knee, clearly pissed off at something.” Jonah wasn’t going to back down, and Owen knew it. He may be reserved, but he was anything but weak. Especially when someone pissed him off, and Owen obviously had.
“I don’t know!” Owen yelled, throwing his arms in the air. Immediately remembering whom he was talking to, he made an effort to calm down. He had no right taking his confusion out on Jonah. He took a deep breath then said, “I don’t know. It’s just—can you believe that guy? For years, he made my life a living hell for being gay, and now he’s buddy-buddy with one of the most openly gay men I’ve ever met! I mean, what the fuck is that shit?” Owen was pacing, his hands on his hips, shaking his head. Then he pointed to the restaurant door and yelled, “What the fuck sets that playboy apart from every other gay man that Brody’s hated?” Owen began to pace again, his body lit with anger.
“You mean what sets him apart from you,” Jonah said quietly. He was studying Owen now, and suddenly, Owen felt extremely exposed. Jonah was the last person Owen could hide anything from, but this was fucked up on so many levels.
Owen stopped short and barked, “What?”
“I can’t believe I didn’t see it before.” Jonah blew out a short breath and ran a hand through his hair, hanging his head. Raising his eyes back up to Owen, he said, “You’re jealous.”
“I am not fucking jealous of Brody Walker,” Owen hissed through clenched teeth.
“No, you’re jealous of Gabe,” Jonah said, clearly baffled.
“What the―” Was he out of his ever-loving mind?
“Do you have feelings for Brody, Owen?”