Page 4 of Joey

“Thank you.”

“You’re welcome. I’ll leave this on the bedside table.” Joey pressed a kiss to his forehead. “Thank you for a wonderful night.”

Ethan sank back into bed, smiling, and when his alarm woke him the next day, Joey was gone.

He knew the way things were supposed to be. No one stayed over uninvited, but Ethan wouldn’t have kicked him out of bed. At least until he had to go to work. He groaned and rubbed both hands over his face. He didn’t want to work now. He wanted to stay in dreamland and remember what a magnificent night he’d experienced. Would he ever see Joey again? It was unlikely, as he’d never seen him before. Joey was probably just passing through.

Ethan climbed from bed and stood under the shower spray, thoughts of Joey not far from his mind as he went through his usual routine. After he’d dressed and had breakfast, he locked his house and got in his car. He’d never had a problem brushing thoughts of one-nighters from his mind before, but Joey wouldn’t leave.

He turned the radio up as loud as he could stand, tapping his fingers to the beat and singing the odd bar, and pretended he wasn’t thinking about the man. Even when he passed the club they had met at the previous evening and saw Joey’s car in the car park, he thought he had imagined it. He continued driving but slowed down, finally turning down a side road and going back the way he’d come. He pulled into the club’s car park and stopped a distance away.

Why was Joey’s car here? The club wouldn’t open until that evening, and there was nothing around here, not even houses. Ethan’s mind conjured the sadness in Joey’s expression, and he couldn’t leave without checking on him.

Decision made, he switched off the engine and climbed out, wandering closer and closer. There was no movement, and no one sat in the front seats. He peered into the back seat and frowned. A mountain of fabric lay haphazardly, but a tuft of brown hair against pale skin nestled among it.

He gently knocked against the window, not wanting to scare whoever it was. The head popped up, and grey slate eyes peered at him, the crease between Joey’s eyebrows more defined.

Why was Joey sleeping in his car?

****

Chapter 2

Joey

Joey Reynolds didn’t intend for anyone to see him sleeping in his car, which was why he’d chosen a darkened corner of the car park. Unfortunately, he must’ve overslept because he’d planned to be on the road before dawn.

He stared at Ethan, who stared back. He sighed and looked away. Pushing the covers aside, he rubbed his hand over his face and head, slipped on his shoes and climbed out of the car.

“Morning,” he said.

Ethan blinked at him. “It’s too early for this conversation without caffeine in my bloodstream.” He shook his head. “Get yourself organised and meet me at The Cliff End Hotel.” He started to walk away. “Don’t leave me hanging, Joey,” he called over his shoulder.

Ethan climbed into his car and drove away, and Joey stood there wondering what the hell had just happened.

He did as Ethan ordered, though. He found some public toilets, got washed and changed in not the cleanest of amenities he’d ever seen, and checked the route to the hotel Ethan had mentioned. The man had been dressed in a suit, tie and waistcoat, and Joey could imagine him standing at the reception desk in a swanky hotel. He fit in perfectly. Just like Joey would’ve if he’d been in his old life.

He parked in the hotel car park and stood staring across the landscape. It had a magnificent view of the ocean, the waves crashing against the pier and the cliffs. He’d never planned on stopping at Whitby for longer than a few hours, but when he’d driven by the club, he realised how much he needed a breather, even for one night. And what Ethan had offered, Joey couldn’t resist.

Inhaling the salty, cold air, he aimed for the entrance, hoping Ethan was there. He didn’t want to be in public for too long in case anyone looked at him too closely. He could hide some things—like his neck tattoos—but he couldn’t do much about his actual facial features. He was miles away from London, though, so he hoped it was far enough.

When he stepped inside, the white walls and dark furniture immediately took him back to the many hotels he’d visited prior. It was probably a four-star hotel—he hadn’t paid attention to the information on the door—but what drew his focus was Ethan’s melodious voice. Ethan spoke to a woman who had a baby on her hip and a large suitcase at her feet. She appeared tired and wrung out, but his tone was calm and comforting as he checked her out of her room. The click of the computer keyboards and mouse merged with the gentle music playing, and Joey relaxed in the familiar surroundings.

Joey stayed back while Ethan dealt with the people waiting. Ethan leaned in to speak to a colleague, who nodded, and then grabbed Joey’s attention.

“This way.”

Joey followed Ethan to an almost empty restaurant and pointed to a table while he carried on to the coffee machine. Joey sat, staring out of the large—and if he wasn’t mistaken, tinted—windows offering a similar view to the car park. He could see Whitby Abbey in the distance and the lighthouse at the end of the pier. It brought back memories of when his parents had brought him there as a child. It wasn’t often by any stretch, but he remembered at least two visits.

“I wasn’t sure how you took your coffee,” Ethan said, setting a cup in front of him with packets of sugar and milk.

“Thanks.” He added a splash of milk and stirred it before sipping and almost burning his mouth. He covered it by rubbing his lips together.

“So,” Ethan said, his hands around his cup. “Do you have no place to go?”

Joey sighed. He wasn’t getting out of this without some answers. “Yes and no.” Ethan raised his eyebrows, his jaw tense, so Joey continued, “I have a home in London, but I needed to…get away.” He glanced out of the window. “I got into my car and drove. No destination in mind. Just stopping when I needed to sleep or eat.”

“What brought you here?”

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