CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
Marc gave Riley a confused look. “Is that…”
“Peter Gabriel,” Riley and Marc said in unison.
They raced to the window, and Marc jerked the cord to raise the blinds, tangling them as they rushed upward.
Thorne stood beside his sleek Mercedes, wearing a dark suit and a beard that looked damn good on him. He was also holding his phone and Bluetooth speakers in the air, blasting “In Your Eyes” louder than speakers that small should go. Of course he’d have the best tech.
Why am I thinking about tech? My former lover—former client—is re-enacting Say Anything in front of my apartment.
“Oh my fucking God!” Marc said, never taking his eyes from Thorne.
“I…” Riley couldn’t speak. He could hardly breathe. His heart was pounding, and it felt like it was in his throat.
“Dude, you’ve got to go down there.”
“I…”
Marc waved at Thorne and then grabbed Riley by the arm and dragged him toward the door. “Go down there and talk to him right now.”
Riley’s feet wouldn’t work. “I can’t.”
“Yes. You can. I don’t care if you tell him it’s over for good, but you’ve got to say something. If nothing else, the guy has balls.”
The swirl of confusing thoughts in his head dizzied Riley. “We watched it together. He’d never seen it even though he was in high school when it came out, and he never… I’m babbling.”
“Go!” Marc practically shoved him down the stairs.
Riley caught himself against the wall and kept moving. By the time he reached the bottom of the stairs he was running.
Thorne turned when he saw him, the music continued to play, but he set the speakers on the roof of his car.
“Wh-what are you doing?”
Thorne raised a brow, that damn sardonic look he was so good at. “I did hope you would remember.”
Riley gestured toward the speakers. “Of course I remember. But why?”
“Why do you think? Because I made a terrible mistake, and I needed to get your attention so I could apologize and see if…” He took a slow breath, and Riley watched his chest rise and fall. “If there is truly no chance, or if there’s some amount of hope left for us.”
“Us?”
“Yes, us; you and me. I was a fool, and I hurt you. I know you may never be able to forgive me, but I’m here to say what I should have said back then. I don’t want to be a client to you. I want to be so much more.”
“Are you sure? Because two months ago it sounded like you just wanted to own me.”
Thorne winced and glanced around. They’d acquired quite a collection of onlookers. He tapped his phone, silencing the music. “Could we take this inside?”
“In the lobby at least,” Riley said, not yet sure he wanted Thorne in his home. And even more uncertain whether he wanted Thorne in his life.
“I never wanted to own you,” Thorne said as the door closed behind them.
Riley raised his brows.
“I can be an arrogant son of a bitch. That’s true enough, and yes, I like getting my way. But what I really wanted was to spend every day with you. To wake up with you. To know you weren’t sleeping with anyone else. To know that when you looked at me like you cared, like it was more than a job, that look was sincere.”
Riley frowned. “Of course it was sincere. How the fuck could you doubt that?”
“Because I was scared. Scared if I asked for more than a business arrangement, you would walk away and I’d never see you again. I couldn’t fathom why you would want to be in a relationship with me.”
“What?” Riley couldn’t believe what he was hearing. “You thought I didn’t want you?”
“I thought you wouldn’t want to date me. We have a few differences you know, like twenty years of them.”
“I don’t give a fuck about that,” Riley snapped.
“You don’t?”
“No, but I sure as hell never thought you’d want an actual relationship with me, a kid, a prostitute.”
Thorne shook his head. “I never thought of you as—”
“You tried to make me a full-time employee, one whose job was to fuck you.”
“And cook for me.”
“God, Thorne, do you hear yourself?”
He held up a hand. “I’m sorry. It was a solution I could offer that would let me see you every day. I thought it was the best option to get what I wanted.”
So typical of Thorne, maneuvering to get what he wanted. “What about what I wanted?”
“It doesn’t matter what I say. You aren’t going to believe I was thinking of you, of the best way for you to make money for school, to have a job while you were still in school that didn’t involve working nights or seeing assholes like Collins.”
“Fuck Collins. I can handle myself, Thorne. I don’t need a sugar daddy.” Had Thorne always been this fucking infuriating?
“I wanted to offer you some security.”
“You wanted me to warm your bed,” Riley countered.
“I did, but it was because…because I…”
The panicked look on Thorne’s face made Riley feel a little bit sorry for him. “You still can’t say it, can you?”
“No, I’m still scared, but…” Thorne stroked his well-trimmed beard. “This isn’t the only change I’ve made.”
“Really?” Why did that surprise Riley more than anything else that had happened so far that night? Maybe because Thorne only did things his way.
“If you’d have dinner with me, or lunch—lunch is a nice, neutral, nondate-like meal—I’ll tell you. No pressure, no expectations. Just talking.”
“You mean this, don’t you? You really wanted us to be together for more than just sex.”
Thorne nodded. “I wanted you any way I could have you, but the best case scenario was that you would be my partner, that you would be with me because it was what you wanted rather than a job.”
“Why didn’t you say that?”
“I thought you’d laugh at me.”
Was he fucking kidding? “How could you not see how I felt about you? Every time I came to see you, I worried about how transparent I was. I might as well have put on a sign that said: I’ve fallen in love. I’m fragile. I’m dying inside because I want you and I can’t have you. Then I thought you were going to suggest exactly what I’d been hoping, that we drop the client/escort relationship and actually go out. When you asked me to work for you, it was like being punched.”
Thorne looked ill, his face pale, his eyes dull. “My God, Dash. I thought the same thing. That you’d see through me, that you’d realize I’d started thinking of you as my lover. I wish I could go back and redo everything. I was an arrogant ass, but I was desperate. I couldn’t stand the thought of you with other clients. It was selfish and stupid, okay? You’ve always enjoyed me admitting I was wrong. Well, you’ve been right about everything.”
Riley shook his head. “No, not even close.”
Thorne frowned. “What do you mean?”
“I should’ve told you how I felt. I almost did so many times. I wanted to keep seeing you, but as a lover, not as a client. I could never work up the courage to say it, though, because I didn’t think someone so successful, so—not old—but so far down the road from where I was, could ever want me on my own terms.”
Thorne ran a hand over his hair. He glanced away and then back. “I did want you. I…do. I want anything you’re willing to give.”
“So you would’ve said yes if I’d asked?”
Thorne nodded.
“But you said you hadn’t been on a date in years, that you thought sex was much better when it was paid for.”
Thorne groaned and leaned against the wall as if unable to hold himself up anymore. “I didn’t know you then. I couldn’t imagine a man worth the upheaval in my life, but you are that man. I know it might be too late. If so, just tell me, and I won’t bother you again. But if there’s any chance…”
Riley stared into Thorne’s eyes; there was pain there, but also hope, and it was infectious. “I…yeah, there’s a chance.”
“Where do we go from here? Your call.” Thorne’s soft smile lit up the shadowy entryway.
“You’re not planning to keep serenading me every night?” Riley asked, finally letting himself smile too.
Thorne laughed. “No, that was a one-time thing. I’m sure I looked quite ridiculous.”
Riley shook his head. “You looked romantic and forlorn. I don’t think anything else would’ve gotten me to listen to you. But the fact that you remembered…” Riley had to stop speaking when his voice broke. He took a breath, trying to recover his cool. “That was brave of you and…” He smiled. “Just fucking awesome.”
“Thanks.” Thorne was actually blushing, and it looked damn good on him. “So, lunch?”
“Yes, when?” Riley asked.
“Soon, but maybe not tomorrow.”
Riley frowned. “Why not?”
“It’s Friday. We need a new pattern.”
Riley grinned. “I wouldn’t have taken you for the superstitious type.”
“I was hurt too, Dash, even if it was my fault. I haven’t been sober on a Friday in a long time.”
Riley was stunned and slightly gratified.
Thorne continued. “I’m spending the weekend at the lake with my sister and her family so—”
“You’re what?” Riley couldn’t have heard that right.
“I told you I’d made changes. So what about Monday at noon?”
Riley didn’t have to stop and consider. He had to find out if there was still a chance for them. “Yes.”
“I’ll send a car to pick you up.”
Riley shook his head. “I’ll meet you. Just tell me where.”
“There’s an Italian place, Molto Bella, down the street from my office.”
“Is this your kind of place? Should I wear a suit?”
Thorne smiled. “No. It’s unpretentious but excellent.”
“I’ll be there.”
Riley studied Thorne for a few moments, allowing himself to truly take in the sight of him now that they were potentially moving forward. “You look good. I like this.” He reached up and stroked Thorne’s beard, but as soon as he felt the rasp of hair, he pulled his hand back, realizing he shouldn’t be touching Thorne.
“I don’t mind,” Thorne said.
“It’s not fair to you, though. I can’t tease you when I don’t know what I want.”
Thorne smiled. “I know what I want.”
There was the Thorne he remembered. “Thank you for telling me, for showing up here. I was too chicken to call you.”
Thorne’s eyes widened. “You wanted to call me?”
“Every fucking day.”
The emotion in Thorne’s eyes was strong enough to knock Riley over.
Thorne turned to go to his car. One slow step. Then another. Then another.
Riley didn’t want him to leave, not yet. “Thorne?”
“Yes?” He stopped but didn’t turn around.
“There’s a twenty-four-hour doughnut place down the street. They actually have really good coffee. Would you—?”
He spun to face Riley. “Yes!”
“Okay, let me just tell Marc. I’ll be right back.”
THORNE LET DASH pay for their coffee and doughnuts though it wasn’t an easy concession. He’d gone with Dash’s recommendation of a cinnamon cake doughnut, but he wasn’t sure he could actually eat. What if he said the wrong thing? This might well be his last chance with Dash.
Dash gestured toward a corner booth, and Thorne headed in that direction. Once they were seated, an awkward silence settled over them. The walk to the shop had been short, and traffic made the street loud even at that time of night, so they hadn’t really had to talk until now. Obviously, neither of them knew what to say.
After staring at his coffee for far too long, Thorne blurted out. “I came out at work.”
Dash looked up, his eyes wide. “You did?”
“I did. And I told my family too.”
Dash whistled. “How’d that go?”
Thorne smiled at the memory, no point in letting it get him down. “Yeah, it was a fun Thanksgiving.”
Dash’s mouth dropped open. “You told them at Thanksgiving?”
“Yes. I’m an ass, aren’t I?”
Dash snorted. “That’s hardly news.”
“Do you want to hear the story?”
“If you… Yes.” Dash nodded.
“I told my sister first. Right after you…after we… She wasn’t surprised. My parents on the other hand… I told them at Thanksgiving, because I’m an asshole. Dad stomped out. Mom had a fit. But I got through it. I also took two weeks off.”
“Two whole weeks?”
Thorne laughed. “Yes, the senior partners were equally shocked.”
“Did you go sailing?”
He nodded.
“Did you buy a boat?”
“No. I…” Wanted to wait for you. “Might get one in the spring.”
“I’ve made changes too,” Dash said. “I quit my job.”
“Really? I… I’m sorry if I…” As much as Thorne had wanted him to quit, he didn’t want to be responsible for Dash being unemployed.
“No. It was time. I’ve got enough saved.”
He’d have more if he’d taken the money Thorne wanted to give him. “Dash, are you sure… I—”
“Do not bring up the money you tried to give me. That was… What made you think that was okay?”
“You deserve to go to school, and I wanted to help.”
Dash lowered his head into his hands and ruffled his hair. “You don’t get it, do you?”
Thorne hadn’t until Kathryn had talked to him. “I insulted you.”
“I’m not working for you, and I’m not taking your ‘gift.’” Thorne heard the sarcastic air quotes.
“What if I said it was a scholarship?”
“Thorne.” He was pushing it, and he had to stop.
“Fine; I felt terrible after you left; guilty, stupid, ashamed. I wanted to make it better, but I ended up doing something stupid again. I get that, but I just wanted you to be able to follow your dream without having to work anymore.”
“You didn’t want me to see any other clients, even if I was no longer seeing you.”
Heat rushed to Thorne’s face. He wasn’t going to deny it. “Yes, that too.”
Dash’s expression softened. “I didn’t want to see any more clients. The job had been fun, but it wasn’t anymore unless I was with you.”
“Could we start over? Try dating? I can go slow.”
Dash closed his eyes. And Thorne measured off the seconds by tapping his fingers against the cup he’d yet to take a sip from. Neither of them had touched their doughnuts.
“I want to say yes, but I’m…”
“Scared? Because I am too. But I’m just as scared not to try, because I can’t stop thinking about you. You changed me. I eat breakfast now, and I never work on Saturday afternoons, and—”
Dash laughed. “I think about you all the time too. I watch a movie and think whether you’d like it. I see paintings and wonder if you’d enjoy them.”
“Just have lunch with me, like we agreed. No pressure, just talking, friendship.”
Dash frowned. “Is that all you want?”
“No. It’s far from all I want. Because what I want is…everything. But it’s a beginning.”
Dash chewed his lower lip. Thorne’s cock responded to the sight of Dash’s tongue. Could he go slow? Yes, he had to. Anticipation was sweet, right?
Dash raised his coffee cup. “To beginnings.” They tapped their cups together, laughing. It felt good to laugh with Dash again.
“Now try your doughnut,” Dash encouraged.
Thorne picked up the pastry, but Dash shook his head. “Not like that. You’ve got to dunk it in the coffee. They were made for each other.”
Thorne looked around in case his mother or the manners police were watching. He’d already made a fool of himself in front of Dash’s neighbors. Why was he worried about a little doughnut dunking?
“Mmm,” he said as he bit into the now coffee-flavored pastry. “You have great taste.”
Dash looked him up and down, seeming to relax for the first time since they’d sat down. “Yeah, maybe I do.”
The quirk of his lips—God, how Thorne had always loved that smug little smile—made Thorne’s pulse accelerate and warmth spread through his chest. He wanted Dash, needed him. Please let me say the right things this time.
They finished their doughnuts and coffee and walked back to Dash’s apartment. Halfway there, Dash reached for Thorne’s hand and intertwined their fingers. It was the first time Thorne had ever walked down the street holding hands with a man. He glanced around, wondering if they’d be noticed.
“It’s fine here. Trust me.”
Thorne nodded.
When they got to Dash’s building, Dash didn’t stop at Thorne’s car, so Thorne followed him into the lobby. As soon as he was through the door, Dash pushed him up against the wall of mailboxes.
Thorne stared into Dash’s eyes, not daring to breathe. Lust blazed there, and Thorne had to force himself to swallow.
Dash leaned in until his mouth was by Thorne’s ear. “Tell me there hasn’t been anyone since me. Lie to me if you need to.”
Thorne laughed, a deep sound of happiness. “I don’t have to lie. No one measures up to you.”
“Damn right they don’t. Did you jerk off thinking of me? Because I thought of you, of your ass ready for my cock.”
“Fuck, Dash, I thought we were taking things slow.”
Dash laughed. “We are.”
It didn’t feel slow to Thorne as Dash kissed him, his hard cock pressed against Thorne’s hip. But a few seconds later, Dash pulled back and released him. “Are you going to call me Riley, now?”
“You said—”
“Things are different now, I want to be real with you, to be myself. Dash is me too, though, a wilder, more confident side of me.”
“I want to know all of you, Dash, Riley, and any other parts of you hiding in there.” They both laughed, nerves coming out as mirth. Then Thorne drew in a slow breath, choosing his words carefully. “I’ve spent so long trying not to call you Riley I’m not sure if I can, but if that’s what you want, I’ll try.”
“I… I don’t know what I want. Let’s see what feels right, but if you want to call me Riley, I won’t… It’s okay.”
Thorne nodded, afraid his voice would shake if he spoke.
“Lunch. Monday,” Dash said.
“Yes.”
“Go home now, Thorne.” The implication was that Dash—Riley—was going to fuck him in the lobby if he didn’t.
A bit of exhibitionism didn’t sound so bad right then, but Thorne forced himself to put one foot in front of the other.