If someone had told Justin a few months ago that he’d be excited at the prospect of having a cheeseburger with a man he barely knew, at a club that was testosterone filled and populated with sweaty, horny men, he would never have believed it. These weren’t his people, this wasn’t his scene, and this certainly wasn’t the music he enjoyed.
And yet, here he sat at a table, dipping his French fries into his mayo and smiling at the man sitting across from him. Apparently, good company could make up for a multitude of other sins.
Finn’s head had pretty much been on a pivot since their arrival forty minutes previous. It was still too early for dancing, and most of the people here were either playing pool, eating, or sharing a drink. The music playing over the speakers was loud, but Justin and Finn had been able to talk with little effort.
“I had no idea this place was this much fun.” Finn’s voice reached him easily in between songs. “Not that I’d come here on my own, but this is great.”
“A gay bar would be an ideal location for you to go alone. You could practice talking to strangers.” It would be perfect if for no other reason than it might get Finn thinking about someone—anyone—other than Leo. “I’ll make sure to pass along your approval to Max.”
Justin had seen Max behind the bar when they’d first arrived, but he’d managed to move away before he was recognized. While he and Max had come to a sort of truce since his arrival to Toronto, he didn’t want to put himself in line for the teasing that was sure to come when Max realized Justin was here with a man.
Even if it wasn’t a date.
Neither he nor Finn would ever be ready for that.
Finn took another big bite from his burger, and Justin couldn’t help but watch as his tongue darted out to lick a dollop of ketchup from the corner of his mouth. This was something new for Justin, this sudden infatuation with every little move another person was making. It was embarrassing, or would be if Finn ever found out what he was doing. At least that wouldn’t happen. Justin imagined Finn only had room for one infatuation at a time.
Swallowing some of his beer, Justin pushed away the thoughts that threatened to take him down a path that wouldn’t be helpful for either of them. “We should talk about tomorrow night.”
He’d half expected Finn to jump at the chance, but he looked more than a little disappointed at the suggestion. “You know, if it’s okay with you, I’d rather not.”
Justin gave his head a shake as he fingered the bottom of his beer mug. “Whatever you’d like.”
“What I’d like is to finish this amazing burger. Eli’s going to kill me for eating something this delicious, because there’s no way it’s good for me. Then I’ll end up putting on weight that isn’t lean muscle, and he’ll make me do extra minutes on Jacobs Ladder.”
The music changed songs, this time to one with a punishingly loud bassline, forcing Justin to nod his agreement. Finn’s eyes continued to dart around the bar as they ate. Justin couldn’t help but follow his gaze, trying to learn a bit more about the man sitting across from him; what music he would bob his head to, what things in the bar would catch his attention. Who would catch his attention.
That was the strangest part of all. Finn didn’t appear to be staring at any one person. Even as the dance floor began to fill, he seemed interested in objects, the laughter that would filter through the blasting music, or large groups socializing.
Justin shifted his attention to the bar where Max still stood. He was a tall man, with a ready smile and a deep chuckle. Justin hadn’t wanted to, but from their initial meeting in the alley behind this very club, he had grudgingly respected Max. When Justin had offered him a bribe, Max had declined. When Justin had tried to get Max away from Grady, he’d refused to go. Justin had quickly realized, even as he’d been certain that their engagement was fake, that there was something far deeper going on between Max and Grady.
Which had meant that Justin would be cast aside. His usefulness had been over.
God, he was tired of being cast aside.
The crack of pool balls smacking against one another seemed to catch Finn’s attention. There was a small area setup behind where they were sitting: two pool tables and several lounge chairs tucked into the corner of the club. Finn turned to stare at them, then back to Justin with a grin. “Do you happen to play?”
“Learned when I was ten.” It had been one of the few things Justin had done with his father on a semiregular basis. Every Sunday as soon as they got home from church, Justin had been expected to rack the balls on the table in their basement, and he and his father would play a game. Not that Justin ever won, but he’d appreciated the small parcel of time his father had given him.
“I suck at it, but love to play.” Finn set his napkin down on the now-empty plate. “Think we can win a table?”
Justin looked over, quickly evaluating the skills of the men currently playing. “Absolutely.”
Finn got to his feet and strangely, held out his hand for Justin to take. “Come on, then.”
Justin shouldn’t have touched Finn, shouldn’t have slipped his hand into the open waiting palm. But logic and reasoning seemed to have abandoned him these days, and he did exactly that. The warmth from Finn’s large hand wrapping around his sent a shiver through him. This was stupid and horrible and so completely out of character, he hardly recognized himself.
Finn led him to the pool tables. “Hey, guys. Can we get in on a game?”
One of the men playing shrugged. “He’s kicking my ass. Go for it.” And he laid his cue down. “I’m going to hit the bar.”
The remaining man looked up and smiled. Ah, that was an expression Justin had seen more than once: cockiness. “Sure. One of you beat me, and the table’s yours.”
Finn dropped Justin’s hand and turned to him. “I can try, but it takes me a while to warm up.”
“No need. I’ve got this.” Justin had ignored Finn’s earlier request and changed back into a dress shirt before coming out tonight. Strangely, he always felt more comfortable like this than in anything the least bit casual. He undid the buttons of his cuffs and rolled his shirt sleeves halfway up his arms, before stepping to the table. “Flip for break?”
“Okay.” The man pulled a quarter from his pocket. “Heads.”
The coin landed on heads, and Justin couldn’t help but smile. While winning the break would have been beneficial, it was far from necessary. “Would you like me to rack?”
“Go for it.” The man chalked his cue off to the side, but Justin was aware of him watching his every move.
This was like being back in the office. People trying to gauge one another without being obvious about it. It was one of the reasons his father had insisted on teaching him the game in the first place. Justin made sure to take his time putting the balls in the rack. Nothing fancy. He set them up, pulled the rack away, and grabbed a cue of his own. “All set.”
The man sunk two balls off the break, one low and one high. It wasn’t a great leave, but he managed to sink the two ball, before missing on the four. “You’re up.”
Justin took a moment to evaluate the various shots open to him. He settled on a shot that shouldn’t scare the man away, but would show his skill. “Twelve, cross side.” Without much preamble, he lined up and sunk the shot.
The man straightened. “Nice.”
“Thank you. Ten, left corner.” Another lineup, another ball sunk.
Justin put the nine and fifteen down as quickly and the man rested his cue against the wall. “Given the shots you just made and what’s left on the table, I know you can run this. I concede. Have fun, guys.”
Finn clapped when the man walked away. “That was impressive. Congratulations.”
He shouldn’t have felt a tingle of pride at Finn’s praise, but he did. He also couldn’t help but feel a tiny bit disappointed. He’d wanted to show off a bit, show Finn that he was good at something other than preparing speeches to help him win a man who wasn’t worthy of his time. Justin cleared his throat. “Why don’t you rack them and we can play a game?”
“Don’t worry about kicking my ass. I’m going to enjoy watching you play even if I lose horribly. You said you were ten when you learned?”
“My father taught me. Every week for an hour. Over time I got reasonably good at it.”
Finn laughed, making his crystal-blue eyes sparkle. “I know a shark when I see one. All you’re missing is the fin.”
I’ve got my Finn right here. “Fair enough. I’ll let you break.”
They played several games over the course of a half hour. Finn wasn’t nearly as bad as he’d tried to let on. And while Justin was the better of the two of them, he’d made a few basic mistakes due to his split attention. Because every time Finn would lean over the table to make a shot, Justin had to look long and hard at the very perfect ass in front of him, and it took a while to clear his head.
Justin was becoming infatuated with Finn. That had only happened once before in his life, and Justin had to believe Grady still held some resentment toward him for it. He needed to keep his distance, and let Finn have his moment with Leo. That was what Finn wanted and what Justin had agreed to. Everything else was little more than a distraction.
But that ass . . .
His focus on Finn was the reason he didn’t notice Grady was beside him until it was too late. Grady leaned in with a smile. “I can’t believe you’re here.”
“I didn’t know you were here either.” He should have suspected Grady would be wherever Max was, but it hadn’t crossed his mind.
Finn shifted to reach a ball far across the table, shifting his hips. Justin cleared his throat and forced his eyes away. “I’m here with Finn. We’re working on . . . a project.”
A wide grin split Grady’s face. “Oh, is that what we’re calling it these days?”
It wasn’t his place to let anyone else know what Finn’s plan was. So, he kept his mouth shut and took Grady’s teasing. “Finn, you remember Grady Barnes?”
Finn looked up from his shot. He had no poker face: his expression morphed from shock and awe, to an embarrassed smile. “Hey.”
“Hey yourself. I hope this jerk isn’t taking advantage of you. He can be quite the pool shark when he wants to be.”
The comment was obviously meant to be teasing, but it stung nonetheless. “You know me, always pulling strings behind the curtain.”
Finn’s smile slipped. “He’s . . . ah, well . . . helping me. I mean, my game.”
Grady was clearly oblivious to Finn’s discomfort. He took the cue from Justin, holding it out of reach. “Justin as a helper? Yeah, that’s different.” He smiled at Justin. “Though I’m glad it’s not you meddling or something. There’s nothing worse than when you’d get onto the warpath and get determined to set matters right.”
Finn turned fully around, resting his cue against the table. He said nothing, but his body was shaking and his face had gone pale. Justin took a step toward him, but Grady stopped him by putting his arm across Justin’s shoulders. “Hey, remember that time you got mad at me when I lost a pool game at Father’s club? God, I thought you were such a bully.” He moved them both over to Finn and draped an arm over Finn’s shoulders. Grady looked between them with a grin. “I was an absolute brat back then.”
Finn no longer appeared to be paying attention to Grady. His eyes had widened, and his body had tensed, but he didn’t make a move. For some reason, he looked petrified.
“Grady, I need you to let go.” Justin couldn’t take his eyes from Finn. There was something else going on here, something that wasn’t going to end well if Justin didn’t act now.
“Oh come on—I’m just talking.” Grady gave Finn a little shake, but did let him go. “So, tell me about yourself, Finn. You’re quite the animal in the ring.”
Finn’s mouth opened, but nothing came out.
Justin tried to move away from Grady, but he didn’t let go. “Grady, can you please—”
“I don’t really talk to Eli, but when I see him, he’s always singing your praises. Do you like fighting? You could probably go pro. Think you’d enjoy being in the ring full-time?”
Before Justin registered what had happened, Finn was pressed up against the wall, his body shaking and his breathing coming out in harsh gasps.
Justin threw off Grady’s arm and crossed over to stand close to Finn. “Are you okay?”
Finn shook his head without making eye contact. Justin wanted to do something, but there was a crowd starting to form and the last thing Finn would want was to become the center of a spectacle. “Can we have some room here?”
In that brief moment as Justin turned to the crowd, Grady moved next to Finn. “Dude, are you okay?”
One second, Grady was touching Finn’s shoulder, and in the next he was flying to the floor as Finn shoved him away, hard. Grady tripped over the pool cue that had been leaning against the table, sending him crashing to the floor. Grady’s head bounced off the leg of a bystander, drawing everyone’s attention.
“Get out of my way.” Max pushed through the small crowd that had formed around them. “What the fuck is going on in my club?”
Of course Max would have seen Grady get hurt and race over. Justin moved beside Finn, knowing he had precious little time to de-escalate the situation before things went from bad to worse. “He’s having a panic attack.”
Finn was sweating and his eyes were wide. “I just . . . I need to leave.”
Max knelt down to help Grady back up, but thankfully neither of them came any closer. Justin chanced a look at Max, giving him a small nod before turning his full attention back to Finn. “He was asking you too many questions and you got overwhelmed. That’s fine. He shouldn’t have touched you, but he’s handsy that way.”
Grady got back to his feet. “I’m not handsy. More like touchy-feely.”
Max growled. “Shut up.”
It took a few minutes, but slowly the panic in Finn’s eyes cleared, only to be replaced with embarrassment. “I’m sorry. So sorry.” He stepped away from the wall, his face flushed. “I’m heading home.”
“I’ll come with you.” Justin held the cue out for Max to take. “Sorry for the disruption. Grady . . . we should probably talk. Later.”
“Yup.” Grady rubbed his side. “I’ll give you a call.”
Justin placed his hand on the center of Finn’s back and navigated him toward the door. “Let’s get you home.”
Finn’s body continued to shake until they got back to his condo. Justin didn’t say a word, didn’t make any obvious moves to try to comfort him, but neither did he break physical contact with him during the entire trip. It wasn’t until they stepped inside his condo that Finn felt the tension bleed from his muscles. He made it over to the couch before the energy that had gotten him this far finally dissipated. King trotted over, jumped up, and settled tight against his thigh.
“Fuck.” Finn let his head fall into his hands. “I’m so sorry.”
“For making Grady realize he was being an ass? Don’t be. He’s already texted me twice apologizing for what he did.” Justin sat down beside him and gave his knee a squeeze. “He means well. Our history is . . . complicated.”
“I gathered.”
“I get the impression that you have some complications of your own.”
“Yeah.”
Justin mirrored his pose, their legs side by side, knees touching. “Have you talked to anyone about being bullied?”
“I’m thirty-two years old. It’s a bit late for that.”
“It’s impacting your daily life. Your ability to talk to others. Seeing a counselor could help you get a handle on your history, emotions, and dealing with situations like that.”
No, it would make him feel miserable, and he’d still have to live with the memories of what had happened to him all those years ago. “Maybe.”
What he wanted . . . no, needed, was to get ready for his date with Leo tomorrow night. A good night’s sleep would help him put matters into perspective. “I’m tired.”
“I’ll let you get some rest, then.” But Justin didn’t move.
Strangely, Finn didn’t want him to leave. He couldn’t explain why, but the world seemed less heavy, less overwhelming when Justin was around. “Your place sucks.”
“It’s fine. I have a mattress now. No box spring, but that’s on my list.”
“Stay here.” When Justin pulled back, Finn looked up and realized how his words sounded. “I mean, you can sleep on the couch. It’s pretty late and this thing is really comfy. I’ve slept here a lot. In the morning, we can get something to eat and I can grab the equipment.”
Justin cocked his head, his mouth opening and closing, but no words emerging. Finn reached out and slid his hand along Justin’s thigh, giving it a gentle squeeze. “You’d be doing me a favor.”
Justin nodded slowly, as he ran his tongue across his bottom lip. “Very well.”
“I’ll get you some blankets and a pillow.” He stood and instantly missed Justin’s warmth.
When he got back, Justin was standing once again, browsing through his books. King had jumped from the couch and was now sitting beside Justin, looking up at him. Justin touched the edge of the bookshelf. “I didn’t thank you for earlier.”
The blankets made a soft whoosh at they landed on the couch cushions. “For what?”
“I’ve . . . I’m not exactly the sort of man who inspires friendship in others. I’ve always been seen as an obstacle to get around so they can achieve their goal. Normally, they’re correct. Tonight . . . It’s nice to be seen. Not simply as a thing, but as a person. A friend. Thank you for wanting me to stay tonight. As a friend.” He looked away, back toward the books. “You better get some sleep. You’re going to need your rest for tomorrow.”
“You too.” With his heart pounding, Finn swallowed hard. “Good night.”
“Good night.”
With emotions he couldn’t name swirling inside him, Finn went to his bedroom and quietly closed the door.