Page 42 of The Token Yank

“You’re a bleeding piece ofwork.”

Rafe took that as acompliment.

“Give me that.” Eamonn yanked the phone from his hands and snapped pictures of Rafe. He pretended to be a fashion photographer. “Yeah. Just like this. Good. How do you like it? Oh, yeah. Give it tome.”

Rafe’s heart beat rapidly in his chest, and his dick hardened in seconds. He smiled uncontrollably, a mix of massive awkwardness and sexual desire trying to come together. Eamonn put the phone down and realized what the hell he wassaying.

“Shit,” hesaid.

Rafe didn’t know what to say to next. Their shared this weird moment, reveled in it, bathed init.

The cab screeched to a stop. “We’re here,” the driversaid.

Thankgoodness.

“Right.” Eamonn fed himcash.

Rafe hopped out of the cab. Eamonn put his hand on Rafe’s lower back, on that magical spot, and led them inside to the bar. Rafe ordered the firstround.

“Are you sure?” Eamonnasked.

“Yes. You’ve been so generous ever since I got here. I haven’t once paid for a round ofdrinks.”

“What if your parents findout?”

The question was valid, but still stung Rafe. He’d never minded being open with his parents because he felt like he had nothing to hide. This wasn’t anything to hide, either. He was openly gay, after all. But there was something about his life in England that he didn’t want to be an open book. Adventures were meant to be experienced first-hand, not recounted in credit cardreceipts.

Rafe pulled out notes which he’d gotten from the on-campus ATM and slid them over the bar. Eamonn waved his hand to get the bartender’s attention. He ordered them their usual drinks. The bar was packed and bodies mashed against them. The gay guys he saw weren’t much different than the ones in America, minus theaccents.

“Does a British accent do anything for you?” he askedEamonn.

Eamonn shook his head no and handed him a pintglass.

“What’s is this exactly? I always see you and Heath drinkingthem.”

“It’s called a snakebite and black. It’s lager, cider, and a dash of black courant. I think you’ll likeit.”

“It’s like ombre in drink form.” Rafe had a taste and was pleased by the dash of sweetness mixed with the hardness of the beer. And it definitely had abite.

There were no booths or stools available, but Eamonn pushed through the crowd and found a space by the wall. “Well, thisworks.”

“This is great!” Rafe yelled above thedin.

They placed their drinks on the piece of wood sticking out from the wall. The glow of the lights bathed them in a dark yellow haze. Eamonn took a sip of his beer and set it down. Laffly’s wasn’t so different from Apothecary. It was a bar. People stood around and drank. They just happened to begay.

“They have snooker here, too,” Rafe said. A gaggle of gays parted, revealing the opentable.

“And it’s open. We should grab it,” Eamonnsaid.

Or you can grab me.Rafe had to make sure not to drink too much lest he say those thoughts out loud. He had plenty of available guys here to choose from. Why was he still fixating onEamonn?

Rafe followed him to the table. “I don’t know how toplay.”

“Do you want tolearn?”

He noddedyes.

Eamonn handed Rafe a pool cue. “Time to break you inthen.”