Out of the Shade Page 2

  “Boo!” Matt yelled.

  Chuck leaned in. “Did he seriously just boo you?”

  “Sollie mad. Sollie knock stuff over. Sollie go Godzilla,” Matt continued in a Neanderthal voice.

  Jesse shrugged. “He’s got me there.”

  “Godzilla, huh?”

  “Just when I’ve had too much to drink. I’ve heard it’s not pretty to watch, but I’m blacked out when it happens. It’s their fault for letting me drink too much.”

  “As if anyone could stop you,” Kam said as he passed by on his way to the bar.

  Jesse flipped him off and Matt cackled.

  “Come on, Sollie! Darts!” Ryan yelled from a couple of tables away.

  “Sollie throw dart,” Matt grumbled and almost listed out of his chair.

  Chuck caught him. “I’ll get him some water. Go play.”

  Jesse downed his beer and refilled it, then reluctantly joined Ryan in the dart range. He lost every game, and two of the twenty dollar bills in his pocket, when he noticed that a couple of the boys were whispering and looking over their shoulder at something or someone.

  Jesse turned to find a man with sandy blond hair leaning down to plant a kiss on Chuck’s cheek. Jesse sized the guy up along with his friends. The man wore a button-down shirt and jeans that were just on this side of too tight, cocking his head and hip to the same side as he gave Chuck a sly smile.

  Whoever the man was, he definitely didn’t look straight.

  Jesse caught Kam’s eye across the bar and quirked an eyebrow. Kam shrugged. He didn’t know who the guy was either.

  Kam picked up his beer and started to head over, then Matt started screeching and pointing. “Oh my fucking god. I know who you are!” Although it came out more like ohmafuggingah I no whoyur.

  Jesse’s curiosity piqued, he headed for their table, realizing within steps who the guy was and knowing he wasn’t straight.

  The man grinned. “You watch the news?”

  “Ben,” Chuck chastised with a shake of his head. “Knock it the fuck off.”

  Ben rolled his eyes and slid into the chair next to Chuck. “I see you found your kind since moving home.”

  Jesse bristled at Ben’s dismissive tone, but Chuck laughed and leaned back in his chair, an easy smile on his face. “What the hell are you doing this far outside your gated community?”

  “Slumming it for the night, apparently. Some pub-crawl for charity.” Ben reached across the table and shook Matt’s hand. “It’s a pleasure to meet you. I’m—”

  “Ben Fisher,” Jesse finished as he took a seat at the table. “You do the weather for channel six.”

  And the commercials for the local homeless shelter for LGBTQ teens. But it was likely that Jesse was the only one of his friends who didn’t flip the channel when they came on.

  Ben swished his bangs to the side. “It’s not Good Morning America, but I have a fanbase.”

  “Number one fan right here!” Matt boomed, pointing at himself.

  “An enthusiastic fanbase at that,” Ben said. He smiled at Matt. “Sorry for the initial cattiness, I’m grossly bloated from all this beer.”

  Matt beamed. “It’s cool.”

  “So, darling,” Ben said as his focus slid back to Chuck. “Are you here permanently then?”

  Chuck made a show of looking around the dingy bar. “I’m reasonably sure they’ll kick us out after two a.m.”

  Jesse muffled a snort.

  Ben tsked and stood. “So cheeky. I missed that. Give me a call and let’s catch up.”

  Chuck smirked. “I’ll do that.”

  “Old friend?” Jesse probed as Ben exited the bar with his group.

  “Sort of.”

  Matt narrowed his eyes at Chuck and Jesse held his breath. Matt was more perceptive than people gave him credit for. “Dude. Are you gay like him?”

  Chuck looked up at Matt, unflinching. “Yeah. Ben’s an ex. From a long time ago.”

  Jesse swallowed against a dry throat at that casually delivered confirmation.

  Most of the gay guys Jesse had hooked up with had been more along the lines of Ben—neat, slim, and campy. Clearly out. But his list of conquests had less to do with attraction and more to do with twinks being the easiest to spot. And the available twinks even more so.

  Chuck, on the other hand, was way more frat boy than go-go boy. He wore a baseball cap backward, his dark brown hair curling under the rim of the cap in jagged pieces, with dirt under his fingernails from the game, and enough stubble that he’d likely skipped shaving for a day or two. He wasn’t the type of guy Jesse would even think of approaching in a bar, because straight guys were too much of a risk.

  But Chuck wasn’t straight….

  Just as that thought passed through his head, Ryan stumbled over to the table to refill his glass. “Fucking fags can stay out of Kensington.”

  Jesse’s back straightened and Chuck’s jaw clenched, but before either of them had time to say anything, Matt pushed Ryan’s glass off the table, sending it clattering to the floor in a sea of beer foam. “Kam! Somebody needs to take this prick home before I smash his face in.”

  Ryan's features contorted as he glared at Matt. Jesse got to his feet, ready to stand between them if they decided to go after one another, and he saw Kam waving for the waitress to close out his tab.

  Ryan gritted his teeth, eyeing Matt. “Better than having a prick buried—”

  Matt stumbled as he attempted to lunge over the table and Chuck whipped up, holding him back. Jesse clapped a hand over Ryan's chest, doing the same. Under his fingertips, Ryan's heart beat frantically, but not as fast as Jesse’s.

  Kam sauntered over, taking up the spot at the head of the table and crossing his arms. “Ryan. You’re coming with me. Now.”

  None of the other boys or bar patrons tried to intervene, but all eyes were on them regardless. Jesse ground his teeth together and tried to keep his cool. Out of an entire room of people, only his best friend and Matt seemed to have a problem with what Ryan had said. This was exactly why Jesse kept his secrets locked up tight.

  Ryan stepped back and put his hands up. “Fine.”

  The tension ratcheted down as Ryan headed for the back door, swiping up his jacket without another word.

  Kam leaned in so only Jesse could hear him. “I’m Matt’s ride, but I don’t think putting these two in the same car is a good idea.”

  “I’ll make sure he gets home.”

  Kam clapped a hand on his shoulder, then looked to Chuck. “I’ll call you tomorrow.”

  Chuck nodded, his face an impassive mask.

  “Ryan's a fucking asshole,” Matt growled as Kam followed Ryan out of the bar.

  “He is,” Jesse acknowledged, “and you’re drunk. Give me your phone and I’ll get you an Uber home.”

  Jesse glanced warily toward Chuck, hoping to get a read on him as Matt fumbled through his pockets for his cell, but Chuck had his back to them, shoulders slumped as he made his way to the bar.

  “I’ve got your drinks tonight, guys,” he called out over his shoulder.

  “But I owe Matt—” Jesse started, and Matt cut him off with a look.

  “If the man wants to buy your beer, then you say thank you and move on. You hear me?”

  Matt’s speech was slurred, but his meaning was clear. By accepting Chuck’s offer all of the Kensington boys would see Chuck be the bigger man—a fucking decent human being unlike Ryan—as well as two of their own not having any issues with a gay man buying their drinks.

  “Got it.” Matt grinned and Jesse turned toward Chuck. “Thanks for the beer, man.”

  Chuck smirked, waving off the acknowledgment. Jesse eased at the sight.

  Jesse took the cell from Matt and tapped through the app until a car was on the way. “Let’s head outside. The cold will help clear your head.”

  And mine.

  The wind had died down since Jesse had entered the bar, but Jesse flipped his hood up nonetheless as they stepped outs
ide in a nonverbal cue for every stranger around him that he wasn’t open to conversation. Chuck was only steps behind him—a looming, silent presence at his back.

  Even when they helped Matt climb into the Toyota that showed up minutes later, Chuck didn’t have much to say. Jesse shifted uncomfortably as the car drove away, peeking at Chuck, and searching for the right thing to say.

  “That—” Jesse cleared his throat. “That was fucked up.”

  “It definitely wasn’t how I expected this night to end.” Chuck flipped his baseball cap forward and stuffed his hands in his pockets, sighing. “I should probably get an Uber too.”

  And yet, Chuck didn’t move.

  “Not all of the boys are like Ryan.”

  Chuck nodded, looking away. “Matt and Kam were cool.”

  “And me?”

  “I don’t know, Jesse.” Chuck leaned against the building, gaze focusing on Jesse again. “What about you?”

  Jesse’s stomach swooped, and his heart kicked against his breastbone as he heard Ryan's voice in his head. An all-too-familiar lick of fear coursed through his veins. Fear that was grounded, rational, and a necessary protection mechanism.

  But his body also thrummed with adrenaline from the almost bar fight, and the alcohol had worked its way through his bloodstream, loosening his inhibitions and short-circuiting the part of his brain that reminded him he didn’t hook up with guys within the borders of Kensington.

  Chuck’s heated gaze bored through Jesse, and his question lingering in the air between them left that option open. Up to Jesse to make a move—or not.

  “The night doesn’t have to end like this,” Jesse said. “My house is just around the corner.”

  “Let’s go.”

  Chuck pushed off the wall, brushing up against Jesse as he passed by.

  That simple touch sobered Jesse and made his head spin.

  He slid his hood down and caught up to Chuck.

  Jesse had less than a ten-minute walk to overthink what he was doing bringing Chuck back to his place. His fear of being discovered and having lifetime friends like Ryan turn his back on him—or worse, splinter apart their tight-knit group—was real and alive. It was the same fear he’d carried with him for more than half his life now, since the first time he’d kissed a boy at a summer camp far away from Kensington.

  So why the hell was he doing this?

  Jesse stuffed his hands in his pockets and glanced side-long at Chuck.

  It was rare that he met a man who checked off all the boxes in his attraction list so effortlessly, and even if he set that aside, he had beer and his cock to blame. But relying on any of those excuses was chickenshit.

  The truth was, he was tired.

  His job was a daily grind of paperwork and sales calls. Hours spent in traffic, listening to mind-numbing sports radio that only helped his fantasy football scores marginally. He’d graduated college with a respectable GPA and had abandoned his dream of being a teacher in favor of taking a job in software sales because the money was good. That job had given him the opportunity to bank some cash and buy his house.

  Despite his professional success, in the eleven years since graduating and moving back to his hometown, he’d spent almost every weekend drunk off his ass, acting like a teenage asshole, and searching for the next lay. All while he watched most of the other Kensington boys fall in love, get married, and start to have kids. It was a miserable existence.

  It really wasn’t any existence at all.

  Anticipation churned in his stomach, fear lit up each of his nerves, and a biting wind swirled around him, but the warmth of Chuck at his side…reassured him.

  He felt alive.

  Jesse took a deep breath and led Chuck up the steps to his house, skipping over the one rickety stair he’d given up fixing years ago. He pushed inside his front door before he could think twice about what Chuck saw in the time-worn but cared-for exterior.

  “Make yourself at home,” Jesse said over his shoulder, heading into the kitchen to get them beer. He took two cans of Stella out of the fridge and opened the back door to let his dog back into the house from her outdoor heated enclosure. She plodded around his feet as he pet her ears, then took off for the living room.

  Jesse found the husky with her front paws circled around Chuck and her head in Chuck’s lap. Her blue eyes were pools of languid ecstasy as Chuck rubbed at her neck. Jesse took in the sight, an overwhelming, patently ridiculous flare of jealousy making him smile. She wasn’t allowed on the couch and she knew it, but, apparently, Chuck inspired both him and his dog to push at their boundaries.

  “What’s her name?”

  “Precious.” Jesse tossed the can to Chuck who caught it easily with one hand.

  Chuck scrunched up his face and stopped petting Precious long enough to pop his beer open. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”

  He pointed at Chuck. “Fuck you. Precious is a beautiful name.”

  Chuck grinned, all his tension wiped away since they’d left the bar.

  Jesse found himself smiling back. “You want some food?”

  “I’m starving. You have Call of Duty?” Chuck called out as Jesse disappeared into the kitchen again.

  “Already in there. Feel free to set it up.”

  He switched the oven on, slid a frozen pizza out of the freezer, and threw it on the rack. Pre-heating didn’t exist in his ancient oven of death. Neither did an accurate temp. When he cooked, which wasn’t often, it was by smell and sight.

  Jesse set the timer on his cell for a safe duration and rejoined Chuck in the living room. Chuck was leaned forward on the couch, a controller in his hands and Precious sacked out at his feet.

  Chuck had thrown his hoodie over the arm of the couch and his short-sleeved tee revealed Chuck’s muscled arms and a better view of his tats. Jesse scanned the swirling pictures and text, wishing he could get close enough to take in the details.

  Jesse huffed as he dropped onto the couch next to Chuck, watching him play as he sipped at his beer. Chuck pulled his bottom lip between his teeth, eyes locked to the screen.

  “You’re a gamer?” Jesse asked, glancing at Chuck’s reddened, worried lips.

  “Nah, I just play for fun. Fuck!”

  Jesse chuckled as he peeked at the screen fading to black. “Looks like you’re having fun.”

  “Honestly?” Chuck tossed the controller away and slumped into the couch, bumping his shoulder up against Jesse’s. Chuck turned his head toward Jesse. “I suck at video games.”

  Jesse inhaled sharply at Chuck’s proximity, but he didn’t move away. “You still play, though?”

  Chuck smirked and leaned forward to pick up the controller again. “Maybe I enjoy sucking.”

  Jesus.

  Chuck might have put some distance between them, but the blatant innuendo coiled around Jesse like a physical touch.

  Jesse tried to hold back the blush that had to be growing on his cheeks. The timer on his cell chirped and Jesse stumbled to his feet, glancing at Chuck. “Inappropriate, Dunn.”

  Chuck just grinned.

  This could be like any other night with the guys—beer, video games, and pizza. Although, Jesse was damn sure he’d never been half-hard for any of his best friends. Or that he’d never felt more like himself with any of the boys than he did now.

  They tore through the pepperoni pizza and a couple more cans of beer each. Then Chuck popped in Jesse’s favorite dance game, and Jesse used it as an opportunity to get as physically close as he could to Chuck—pushing him out of the way, grabbing his arms and trying to keep him from executing a proper moonwalk—and Jesse realized that, whether or not they ended up naked, he was having fun for the first time in months.

  “You had enough, old man?” Jesse taunted as he won another round.

  “We’re the same age, asshole,” Chuck shot back and yawned. He glanced at the clock on the cable box. “Is it really four a.m.?”

  “Appears so,” Jesse answered. This routine was normal
for him on the weekends. Most Fridays and Saturdays he didn’t get to bed until the sun had started to rise. But he could see Chuck was starting to fade out.

  Chuck hadn’t made a move on him and maybe he wouldn’t. If Ben was any indication, then Jesse wasn’t this guy’s type. Or maybe…. Maybe Chuck was still leaving what happened between them up to Jesse.

  Jesse wasn’t going to kick him out just because he couldn’t get his head and his cock to agree. He liked the guy’s company. “You can crash in my guest room if you want.”

  Chuck ran his fingers through his hair, nodding. “Cool. That makes more sense than cabbing it back to my place only to have to come back here to get my truck from McLoughlin’s.” Chuck sank into the couch, rubbing at his eyes. A low chuckle bubbled out of his lips. “Fuck. I stink.”

  He smelled like dirt, grass, and sweat. It was a definite turn-on, but there was no way Jesse would say that out loud. “Bathroom is upstairs if you want to take a shower. Towels in the closet.”

  “You sure?”

  “Yeah.”

  Chuck mumbled a thanks and thumped up the stairs. Jesse’s stomach knotted as he watched Chuck go. If Chuck was waiting for Jesse to make the first move, then it was time for Jesse to grow a pair and decide what he wanted.

  Chuck was Kam’s co-worker and it was likely he’d be spending more time with the Kensington boys in the future. Hooking up with him was a risk. But it was just sex—with someone local who he could see becoming a friend….

  He leaned over and ran his palm over Precious’ flank, her tail whapping against the hardwood floor.

  “Sorry,” he said to his dog, “gotta put you outside again.”

  He wasn’t ready to have this night end quite yet.

  2

  Chuck clicked the bathroom door shut, turned on the water to warm it, and started to undress. After Jesse’s invitation to stay, he’d had to get out of that room and away from Jesse before he pounced on him without a thought to the meaty fist that could beat the shit out of him if he’d been reading Jesse wrong all night.

  Usually, he wouldn’t be questioning what his gut was telling him—that Jesse was either interested and curious, or, more likely, that Jesse had been with a man, or men, before. It might have been a year since he and Adalric had ended things definitively, but because of that breakup, his trust in his own instincts had been shoved into a meat grinder, pulverized, and shot out the other end in a pile of goo. Being unsure of himself wasn’t a normal state.