Aiden Fairbairn

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The Rodriguez wedding reception seemed to be winding up rather than down with the music getting louder, going faster, and the dance floor packed with bodies. Michael and Nunzio Rodriguez, the grooms of honor, had already slipped out and now everyone was partying without them.

Judging by what I’d learned of Michael in the past few months, he was probably thrilled to be missing it all. No lie, I didn’t blame him. Hanging out with a bunch of people was a lot less appealing when you had a man to bring home.

Or men.

I drained my glass and set it on the table, eyes fixed on the two men in the corner. Chris with his loosened tie and shirt sleeves shoved up, and Jace whispering in his ear with his long glossy hair hiding most of his face. His hand hovered just over Chris’s arm like he wanted to touch him but knew this was all supposed to stay discreet.

My mouth twitched up. My baby was nothing if not persistent, and Chris had been playing coy for the past month. Texting cute pics, a few dirty messages, and an ultra-hot occasion of me and him having phone sex while I was in the bathroom at work (that Oli had walked in on), but he kept dodging invites to meet up again. Jace thought Chris was just shy, but I was starting to wonder . . .

Maybe after enjoying our weekend together, Chris had realized he liked sex with men a little too much. Maybe he wasn’t as comfortable with his sexual fluidity as I’d assumed.

Or maybe it hadn’t been as good for him as I’d thought . . . Nah.

Before my eyes, Chris draped an arm around Jace’s shoulders, which was like the fucking bat signal. I usually kept my distance until I knew it was safe to move in. Even when I wasn’t trying to be, I could come off pushy and domineering as all hell, and the last thing I wanted was to scare Chris off.

Since the night we’d spent together, I hadn’t been able to get him out of my head. Jace either. We’d talked about it after weeks and weeks of us courting Chris via text, because neither of us could deny that this wasn’t typical. Not by a longshot.

As teens, we’d picked up random people for the excitement of fucking strangers. Then we’d realized we truly enjoyed watching each other be intimate with others. Liked tumbling people together for an adventure. It had been a game we played with other people but mostly with each other.

It was different with Chris. We’d had to have a conversation about Chris. About wanting him as a lover. A regular lover. Not just a fling.

Too fucking bad he’d been dodging us ever since. But now, seeing him put his arm around Jace so possessively? This had to be a sign that he was interested again. I fucking hoped.

I smoothed a hand over my beard and drew up to a stand, but just as I started in their direction, my phone rang. Grumbling, I slipped it from my pocket to see Clive’s name flashing across the screen. If he thought I was going to talk about work on a designated party night, he had another thing coming.

I hit ignore and went to join my husband and Chris.

“We ready to go?”

Chris looked up at me, brown eyes twinkling just enough for me to question how drunk he was. One look at Jace told me they were equally tipsy.

“I’m so fuckin’ ready,” Chris drawled. “We got big plans.”

“Huge fucking plans,” Jace said, leaning in but then pulling away. “The most fun plans.”

Oh Lord.

“How drunk are youse both?”

“Hey,” Chris rumbled, tilted his head back and giving me the tough guy stare that made me want to fuck the attitude out of him. “Don’t start playing daddy. I can handle my shit.”

“I’m just say—” My phone rang again, and I glared at Clive’s name. “Jesus wept.”

“Who’s that?” Chris and Jace chorused.

Jace craned his neck, and Chris all but snatched the phone out of my hand. He lost interest after seeing the name. “Isn’t that Michael’s ex-man?”

“He’s also the QFindr attorney,” I said dryly. “And he’s determined to get me on the horn, so I’m starting to think there’s a work thing. We going?”

“Yup. All my people have split up or dipped,” Chris said. “Tonya bailed after Mere kept giving her the evil eye all night, Angel and Steph had another fight, and David and Ray went home super early like the couple of boring fucks they are. So I’m all yours.”

Jace bounced in place. “Did you send Scottie home?”

I nodded. Our QFindr driver had long since gone.

“I can call a—” The phone rang again, and I sucked my teeth. “Fuckin’ A, let me take care of this. You get a taxi.”

“On it.” Jace grabbed Chris’s jacket and hauled him towards the exit. “Meet us outside?”

“Sounds good.” I watched them walk out, trailing behind them slowly, and called Clive back as soon as there was distance between me and the music. “Bro, what the fuck?”

“Don’t call me bro,” he rasped through the phone.

My brows drew down. “What’s the matter with you?”

“Nothing.” Clive cleared his throat. “How’s the wedding?”

“Uh. It’s . . . fine?”

“Fine?”

I frowned, wondering where the hell this was going. “Yeah, it’s fine. It’s a fucking wedding, Clive. What’s the deal?”

He cleared his throat again and this time, when he spoke, his deep voice was clearer. “There’s no deal. I was just checking in.”

“About . . . the state of the wedding?” I scoffed and couldn’t help teasing him about his ex-boyfriend getting married. “What’d you think, they said fuck it and canceled?” When silence greeted the question, I stopped walking and stared at the wall. “Clive, tell me you weren’t fucking expecting the wedding to not have happened?”

“No,” he growled. “You think I’m an idiot? They’ve been in love for twenty years.”

“So . . . then . . .”

“So then nothing. Forget I called.”

Sensing a click in my future, I said quickly, “The grooms already took off. Right now, everyone is just partying, so I’m taking off too.”

“I see.” There was another loaded pause as I waited for the elevator to follow Chris and Jace downstairs. “They going on a honeymoon?”

“I imagine so?”

“Where?”

“Clive,” I said with forced patience. “Jace helped plan the wedding, but I don’t know the entire itinerary of their lives. For all I know, their honeymoon is them fucking for a week straight in their own home without anyone bugging them.”

Clive laughed softly. “That sounds like Michael. He likes being low key. I’m surprised he wanted this big ceremony at all.”

Oh fuck. This was really happening. The conversation we’d been tiptoeing around for weeks. Where was Caleb when I needed him?

“Listen, buddy—“

“Don’t start that dude shit with me, Fairbairn,” Clive said flatly. “I don’t need your platitudes.”

“Buddy isn’t—” The loud ding of the elevator startled me. Rolling my eyes, I stepped inside. “Look, do you want me to come by? You’re on my way home.”

“You live in Long Island City. I live in Whitestone.”

“Okay, but it’s still in Queens. I could send the boys back to the house—”

Clive sighed through the phone, and that’s when I knew he was drunk. My only two pieces of evidence were the subject matter and the tremble in his exhale, but I knew. I’d drank with the man often enough to have figured out his tells, and they all came out whenever his ex-lover, Michael Rodriguez, was the topic of conversation.

The elevator hit the ground floor, and I stepped out.

“Clive, talk to me, man. Tell me what’s going on.”

“Nothing.”

“Dude—” I stumbled over the word because he hated it, and also because Jace was sucking on Chris’s neck and grinding against him as they waited for the cab. Chris’s eyes were shut, and his lips were twisted up in a dreamy smile. “Clive,” I stammered. “Listen, I’m here for you. I promise. Whatever you need to get off your chest, I’m here.”

“No. I shouldn’t have called. I’ll let you go.”

Jace dropped his hand between their bodies. It wasn’t hard to figure out what he’d just grabbed judging by the low groan that dripped from Chris’s mouth like liquid sex. This entire situation was culminating into a huge flashing FML sign, but I couldn’t hang up on Clive.

“If you hang up, you’re guaranteeing I come by your place,” I said. “And you don’t want my big drunk sweaty ginger ass slamming around your perfectly decorated house, so . . .”

For the first time, Clive laughed. It was that low rich baritone laugh that had initially warmed me to him.

“Ah, Aiden,” he said with a sigh. “You really are the big brother.”

“Uh, the big brother you once kissed, so let’s not go too far down that line of reasoning.”

“No lies detected.” I could hear the smile in Clive’s voice, but it didn’t change the heaviness. “I’m just thinking a lot. Thinking and alone and wondering. Regretting.”

Jace wrenched away from Chris as the cab rolled up outside. He headed for the door and Chris bear-hugged him from behind, causing them to stumble out of the building like a couple of drunken teens. They laughed, and I walked behind them.

“What are you regretting?”

“Everything.” Clive exhaled again, heavier this time. “Lying.”

“Lying to who?” I asked, getting in behind Chris and shutting the door. “What are you talking about, pal?”

Jace rattled off our address to the cab driver and then draped himself over Chris and cuddled up for the ride.

“I’m talking about Michael. I regret lying to Michael.”

Holy shit, this conversation was really happening. There was something surreal about that reality considering Clive was usually the calmest and most straight-faced guy I’d ever met. It took a miracle for him to crack a smile and two miracles for him to show an emotion.

“You mean about cheating on him,” I said.

“Yes. Maybe we wouldn’t have broken up if I hadn’t given him an out. And maybe . . .”

“Hey, Clive, come on.”

“Come on what?” he demanded. “I handed him to Nunzio on a silver fucking platter, and I’ve never spoken to him again. And the worst part is that he’s everywhere now. Entwined in my life because all of his people associate with my people, and I cannot fucking escape.”

His voice broke somewhere in the middle, and my stomach bottomed out. I actually had chills.

Turning towards the window, I lowered my voice and said, “You’re just feeling this hard right now because of the wedding. That’s it.”

“That’s not it, Aiden,” he said with a dull laugh. “I feel it every time I hear his name. Every time I go home alone. Every time I have a minute to stop and think about where we could have been if I hadn’t given up.”

“You didn’t give up. You just knew . . .” Fuck, that wasn’t going to make anything better. “Look, you weren’t right for each other. We’ve talked about this, man. Don’t let this wedding get to your head like this. You weren’t happy with him either. It wasn’t just about you not being the right one.”

Clive inhaled and exhaled again, slower this time. “You’re right.”

“I am?”

“Yes. You are.” He cleared his throat. “I’m drunk, depressed, and all I can think about is where all of you are.”

“Exactly,” I enthused. “And you’ll be fine tomorrow. Fuck, dude, the night is young. Go on Grindr and find some hot Italian tough guy from Whitestone who likes being pounded after a long day of hiding his sexuality.”

This time, Clive’s laugh was more genuine. Warmer.

“Thank you for taking the time to talk to me, Aiden. I appreciate it.”

“Always, man,” I said firmly. “Fucking always.”

We hung up, but his voice was embedded in my mind. The heaviness of someone who was so lonely, it followed him around like a shadow. The worst part was that I had no idea what to say to make him feel better because . . . I would never know what it felt like to be so utterly alone.

I glanced to the side and saw Jace had dozed off pressed into Chris’s side. Chris was relaxed against him, but his eyes were partially open as he gazed out the window. He had one arm around Jace and the other extended behind me. I wondered if it was deliberate.

Taking it as an invitation, I slid closer to him and planted a kiss against his jaw.

“Everything okay?” he asked quietly. “Sounded kinda intense.”

“It was, but I think it’ll be fine.”

Chris nodded slowly, watching me from beneath long eyelashes. “You’re a good friend.”

Sighing, I tilted my head onto his shoulder. “I try.”

His fingers closed around my shoulder, squeezing, and I closed my eyes. My brain kept wanting to turn Clive’s words over and over, but I forced them out to focus on this moment. The warm breeze coming through the window, the weight of the men next to me, and the easy comfort of us all being together.