6
Frankie
I peek my head through Evan’s bedroom doorway. He’s standing in front of a full-length mirror in a pair of underwear and a T-shirt. “What are we gonna do tonight, Karaoke Kid?” I tease.
Evan jumps. “Shit. You scared me.”
Chuckling, I go into his room and flop down on his bed, watching him. Something is…different but I can’t put my finger on what it is. “Sorry. You’re awfully jumpy today. You okay?”
He runs his hand down his chest as though he’s straightening his shirt. “I hate this shirt,” he mumbles and then walks to the closet, his tight little ass looking sexy in his Andrew Christians.
“Um…hello? Earth to Evan?”
“Sorry,” he replies, buried in his closet. “What did you ask?”
“Well, first I asked what we’re doing tonight, but that question was trumped with, ‘Are you okay?’ You’re being weird.” I don’t know how exactly. He’s just, distracted, I guess, but Evan isn’t usually distracted with me. And he obviously has somewhere to go since he’s freaking out about his clothes the way he is.
“I thought you weren’t going to be home tonight?” he asks, his voice slightly unsteady. There’s a strange quality to it, almost as though he was hoping I wouldn’t be here.
“I wasn’t, but I canceled.” I push off his bed and head to his closet, just as he pulls on a different tee—this one blue. He glances my way but doesn’t hold my stare. In fact, by the way his eyes are darting around, it’s obvious he is doing everything he can not to make eye contact with me. “Hey,” I say as I step closer and he smiles, shyly. It’s then that everything makes sense. “Do you have a date tonight?”
His cheeks flush a sweet pink that makes me grin at his innocence.
“You do. Holy fuck, you have a date tonight. Good job, Ev.” His eyes dart away and my stomach twists uncomfortably…or twists more. I can’t really tell. Had it been knotting before Evan looked away from me again, or not? There’s no reason for it to be uncomfortable. I want Evan to date and have fun…I think. “What’s wrong?”
“I’m nervous. This is different for me.”
It really fucking sucks that he’s twenty-four years old and has to be nervous to go on a date. His fucking parents. Fucking Peter. I hate the fact that he was the one to get to Evan first, to be Evan’s first everything and then to screw him over the way he did.
“It’s just a date,” I tell him. If anything, his face gets redder and he turns away from me, pulling down a pair of jeans from a hanger. It’s obvious he’s pretty fucking nervous about this, but strangely, he almost seems like he’s uncomfortable with me knowing too. That’s new for Evan and me. Since our first night as friends, there have been no barriers between us, and it makes my skin feel too tight having one there now.
I close the short space between us, turn him around, and cup his face in my hands. Yes, I decide. Yes, I want him to go on a date. He deserves it. “This is a good thing. You’re gonna be fine. Not every man is Peter.”
“That’s not…” He shakes his head. “Never mind. Thanks, Frankie. I know this likely seems like a strange overreaction to you.”
It does, actually. Evan might not have fucked around since Peter, but something isn’t sitting right with me. I don’t know what it is, but his reaction to this whole date just doesn’t fit the Evan I know. I think people look at him and write him off as weak, but he’s not. Evan’s the strongest person I know. “You’re gonna have a blast. And you picked the perfect jeans, because your ass looks fucking hot in those.”
He nuzzles into my hand and smiles. He’s so damn cuddly. I’ve never met someone who just likes to be touched the way Evan does—a hand in his hair, his head in my lap, the way his face nuzzles me now. “Text me every half hour,” I tell him.
“Every half hour?” He jerks away.
“Yep.”
“No.”
I frown, but then he says, “I need to do this on my own, Frankie. I’ll be okay. I promise.”
I nod, even though I don’t really like it. He’s right, though. He’s a grown man. The last thing I ever want is for him to feel stifled by our friendship. “Okay.”
I leave him alone, so he can finish getting ready. Once I’m back in my room, I call my buddy Donovan to see if he wants to hang out tonight. It’s been a while since I’ve chilled with him, because most of my nights are spent with Evan or the Metropolis crew.
He answers the phone with, “Hello? Who is this?”
“Ha fucking ha,” I reply, knowing he’s giving me shit about being scarce.
“I’m kidding. What’s up, man? How have you been?”
We chat for a few minutes before Donovan says, “I’m heading to the Eagle tonight. My ex just moved back and is bartending, and I told him I’d stop by for a while. I probably won’t stay long. It’s PupStravaganza night and that’s not really my scene, but I told him I’d come in for a beer. You wanna come with me and then we can hit up Flirt or something afterward?”
“Sure. Sounds good.”
We get off the phone, and I jump in the shower. I’m drying off, towel around my waist when Evan pops in to tell me he’s leaving. He has a backpack in his hand, which gives me pause. Is he planning on being out all night with whomever this mystery date is?
“Be safe. Use protection and if he’s too big, poppers are your friend,” I tease and earn myself a smile.
“You’re crazy.” He shakes his head.
“Thank you.”
Evan turns to walk away, but then stops and with his back to me says, “Thanks, Frankie. You make things easier.”
The statement warms my chest. “You do the same for me. That’s what friends are for.”
He nods and then that easily, Evan is gone. I have the strange urge to go after him, to again make sure he’s okay, but I force myself to leave it alone. Evan knows he can come to me if he needs me. This is his night, and the last thing he needs is me swooping in like I’m saving him from getting some dick, which I happen to think he needs.
It’s an hour later when my Uber is dropping me off in front of the Eagle. Donovan leans against the building, waiting for me. He pushes off it before rubbing a hand over his buzzed head, looking fierce in the tight, white tee he’s wearing which is sexy as hell against his dark skin.
“Hey, man. How’s it going?” I give him a hug.
“Not too bad. Looking good.” He squeezes my biceps.
“Don’t I always?”
Donovan laughs. “I see you took the nose ring out.” I’d had my nose pierced for a while but let it close up. It wasn’t really my thing. “You and that damn beanie, though.”
“I happen to look good in this beanie.” I looked up the dress code for PupStravaganza before heading in. On most themed nights at the Eagle, there’s at least some leather, and I wouldn’t have minded throwing on a harness if I’d needed to, but according to the Eagle’s website, tonight is pretty lax. Not that there won’t be some jocks and leather being worn around, but it’s not a requirement.
I’ve never been for a pup event though, and I have to admit, I’m a little curious what it will be like to see human pups crawling around.
We chat while we wait to get through the line to get inside. Once there, we find a spot at the bar. Donovan’s ex gives him a hug and they talk for a minute while I look around the bar. There are men in varying degrees of puppy attire—some just in masks, some in masks, jocks, tails, and knee pads, while others are in full suits. Of course some aren’t dressed as pups at all.
It’s…different. I’ve heard of the puppy thing and know it’s grown in popularity recently, but I’d be lying if I pretended to know much about it.
“Interesting, isn’t it?” Donovan says, and I give him my attention again.
“It is. You know much about it?”
“A little bit. Like I said on the phone, it’s not really my thing, but I’m not one to ever shit on anyone else’s kink. It’s very much about care though…about shedding inhibitions, breaking yourself down I guess and…well the freedom that comes with it.”
I nod before taking a sip of my beer. “Makes sense.”
Men wag their tails. Some puppies are playing with others in a caged off, padded area. Most of the pups here are hanging together, in the same general location while the rest of the bar looks like every other night. You can tell by watching the pups how free they feel…how happy they are.
Most of the pups in attendance have—hell, I don’t even know what they’re called—masters, here with them. It’s sort of beautiful though, the bond you see between them.
“Someone looks very interested,” Donovan says, pulling me out of my thoughts.
“No,” I reply. I’m not…am I? “It’s interesting to me. I’ve never paid much attention to puppy play before.”
A man stops in front of me, kneels and pets his pup. “That’s a good boy,” he says, rubbing him behind the ear.
The pup whines, nuzzles him and wags his tail enthusiastically before the pair walk away.
My eyes scan the room again and that’s when they land on a familiar ass in tight blue jeans making its way toward the door. “What the fuck?”
I jump off the stool, my heart thudding wildly. It can’t be, can it? Well, I guess it can. It’s not like none of us have ever been to the Eagle before, but is this where he’s meeting his date? “I’ll be right back.” I wave to Donovan without looking his way as I make my way through the mass of people. Each step I take, my pulse beats harder against my skin.
Before he gets to the door, a man stops Evan. He reaches out and rubs his head, which Evan shakes, and it’s like a wildfire surges through me. It only takes a second for me to realize it’s Z from Otterly. I know he’s a good guy, but what the fuck is he doing with his hand on Evan when Evan is shaking his head?
I can’t make sense of it all—what Evan’s doing here, and if Z is his date. All I know is, Evan’s uncomfortable. I see it in the curve of his spine and set of his jaw. “Hey. What the fuck’s going on?”
I step up beside Evan and feel him stiffen beside me. His eyes go wide as they take me in. “Frankie? I…what…”
“It’s okay. No need to be shy. Frankie here isn’t going to give you shit for being here, are you, Frankie?”
My head sort of spins in a weird way when Z reaches out and strokes Evan’s hair, which I have to admit, is kind of my thing. I manage to pull out enough sense to say, “No, of course not,” because that’s obviously a worry for Evan, but what I don’t get is—why he would worry about that from me? Is this something he’s interested in? I know damn well Z has pups so him being here with Evan is a big indication there’s something about my best friend I don’t know. I sure as shit don’t want him to feel bad about it, though.
“Hey, you okay?” I push Z’s hand away and cup Evan’s cheek.
“Yeah. I…God, I can’t believe I’m here. I don’t know what I was thinking. I can’t do this. Why do I want to do this?” he asks, and I can see the panic in him, the insecurity in being at PupStravaganza, but damned if I don’t see the want too. The desire and need.
Little pieces of a whole begin to form in my head. I think about what Donovan just said to me when he explained what puppy play is, about Evan liking his head in my lap and for me to rub it. The way he automatically nuzzled into my hand earlier when I cupped his cheek. How cuddly he is and the fact that he seeks approval.
“Hey.” I tilt his head up so he’s looking at me. “Do you want this? It’s okay to want this.”
Evan’s grip tightens on his bag, and I can’t help but wonder what’s inside.
“Is everything okay?” Donovan says. I hadn’t realized he’d approached us.
Evan’s eyes dart between Donovan and me, and I see the questions there, the worry that he just interrupted a hookup. “This is a friend of mine. You’re not interrupting anything exciting.” I wink at Evan, and he smiles.
“I think I’m going to go. I’m not ready for this…not yet.” I open my mouth to reply and he foresees my question before I ask it. “I’ll talk to you about it later, Frankie. It’s not you specifically I didn’t feel comfortable telling. It’s just…”
I realize we have both Z’s and Donovan’s eyes on us so I ask, “Can I go home with you?” I don’t want to intrude if he needs to be alone.
“You can if you want, but you don’t have to.”
“I want,” I reply.
Donovan nods in understanding. Z claps a hand on my shoulder, and then I grab Evan’s hand, walking out with him, trying to figure out what in the hell just happened here.