Page 41 of Hush

“I hoped you would be the kind of guy to laugh at that terrible line.” The man held out his hand. “Steven.”

“Tom.” He shook Steven’s hand, still smiling. “Does it work for you often?”

Steven’s thumb stroked down the back of his hand. “It let me see your smile.”

Tom shook his head, still chuckling. A burn started in his belly, an ignition on a long, long thread he’d tried to bury. Desire, and the almost-forgotten feel of being wanted by another man, sparked.

“Are you here alone?” Steven’s attention was laser-focused on him. He didn’t blink as the bartender dropped Tom’s card and a pen and flounced away again, bitter at his attentions being rebuffed.

“Here with friends.” Tom scribbled his signature and nodded toward Kris’s table. There were all still there, and, for the moment, ignoring him. Which meant he was free. Free to take down his mask, hold it in his lap, and try to be the man he’d hidden for so many years. “You?”

“Just came to unwind and have a good time.” Steven’s smile was honey-slow, seductive.

“And are you having a good time?” Steven wasn’t exactly his type, wasn’t anywhere close to Mike’s level of attractive good looks, but he was handsome and fit and his eyes shone with good humor. He was smooth and polished, and probably had what hisSparkapp liked to call “shared life experiences” for men in his age range. And, with a Mexican Martini sloshing in his veins and only chips to soak up potentially bad decisions, Tom hovered between stay and go, good decision and bad. His breath shook.

Steven winked at him. “I might be on the way to a great time.” He waved for the bartender. “Can I buy you a drink? Let’s go outside and chat. Sit by the fire for a little while.”

“There you are!” Mike bulldozed his way beside Tom at the bar, practically knocking the young college guy from his chair and hip-checking another man out of the way. They sent him sour looks but stepped aside, muttering under their breath. Mike’s arm wrapped around Tom’s shoulders, and he sent him a wide-eyed, questioning look. “You okay?”

He felt his mask snap back into place. “I’m good.” He crumpled his receipt, hiding it from Mike. “I’m actually going to head out, though.”

Steven’s lip pushed out for a half-second. He reached into his jacket and pulled out a crisp card. “If you want to grab a drink, give me a call, Tom.”

“Thanks.” Tom slid the card into his shorts. “I hope you have a good night.”

Steven sighed, and Tom felt Mike’s stare on the side of his face. “Well, it will all be only second-best now.” But, he moved off, disappearing into the crowd and walking away from the bar.

Mike guided him toward the exit, pushing and winding his way like a salmon moving upstream. The music was louder, and the place was packed. The crowd had easily doubled. The patio was full, and clusters of men smoked outside the door and along the curb.

“I’ll walk you home.” Mike shoved his hands in his hoodie’s front pockets and fell into step beside Tom.

“You don’t have to. You were having a good time. You should stay with your friends.”

“I was leaving soon anyway.” Mike shrugged and didn’t look at Tom.

Oh. Right. HisGrindMemessage. He was on the way to a hookup.

They walked together, not speaking, for several blocks.

“Are you… okay?” Mike frowned, spreading his elbows and biting his upper lip. “I mean, did something happen? Were you uncomfortable, or…?”

“No, I’m good.” Tom smiled, forcing a lightness into his voice that he didn’t feel. Mike was walking him home, dumping him off, and then going to have a good time with a guy he really wanted. He’d never felt older or more discarded in his life. Maybe he should call Steven when he got home, invite him over. Throw caution and twenty-five years to the wind. “Just a long day.”

“Yeah.” Mike went quiet again. His phone buzzed in his pocket. Tom’s teeth gnashed.

Eventually, they arrived at Tom’s place, and Tom hurried up the steps to his door. Mike hung back at the street, wearing a deep frown with his hands still fisted in his hoodie pockets. “I’ll see you Monday, Judge B.”

“Yeah.” Tom turned, his key in the lock, and gave Mike a quick smile. “See you Monday.”

Mike started to walk off, keeping his eyes on Tom’s as he moved. Sighing, he turned away after he passed the second maple tree. His shoulders hunched and he looked down at the sidewalk.

What could he say? What could he possibly ever say that would change reality, or change history? Mike was Mike, and he was himself. He knew his fascination was doomed from the start. It was always going to end like this, with him watching Mike walk away, swallowing down his disappointment as Mike kept on with his life, his happy, proud life.

At the corner, Mike turned back, and for a moment, their eyes met. Mike stopped, going still, and seemed to wait.

Tom stepped inside and shut the door.

Chapter 11