Page 99 of Say It Again

“Fine,” he lied, crossing his arms. It wasn’t that he didn’t trust him; he didn’t have a reason to not trust him. It was that he really didn’t fucking trust him.

“Where’s your man? He here?” Corey gazed around the club. “Or did that bomb terribly after you found out he’s a whore?”

“Hey.” Daniel rounded his eyes and glared. “Don’t call him that.”

“Oh, is he not indeed a whore?” Corey tilted his head to the side. “Thought that was old news.”

“Well, no.” He scratched his head. “No. He’s an escort—it’s like, different—and he’s not here.”

“He’s not?” Corey asked, head still tilted. “Well, then someone needs to buy you a drink, pretty boy. What would you like? Anything you wish.”

Daniel didn’t necessarily want a drink from him, but what was that thing about beggars and choosers? It might be his only chance. To his reluctant nod, Corey whistled over his head at someone.

A waiter bounced up in a miniature leather outfit that hugged his bones. “Hi, Mr. Hutton.” His voice was light and breathy as he thrust his chest forward and exposed his neck, ignoring Daniel’s existence altogether. “Did you need something?”

“Hi, kitten.” Corey’s gaze skated down the guy’s outfit. “You get cuter every time I see you. Show me. Do a little spin.”

The waiter twirled around a few times—terrible form—as Corey rummaged through his wallet. He plucked a few bills and handed them over. “Get young Daniel Greene here whatever he’d like, and you keep the change.”

The guy bit his lip and smiled uncontrollably at Corey. Then it was almost comical how swiftly the smile died when he turned to Daniel. With less breathiness and more stank-eye, he rolled his palm and said, “What do you want?”

“Oh, uh. Vodka soda?”

“Shocking,” the guy mumbled, then grinned over his shoulder at Corey. “I’ll be right back, Mr. Hutton. Don’t go anywhere.”

“Do not get me wrong,” Corey said in a low voice as he leaned over a high-top table and winked at the waiter slinking away. “I’ll absolutely be rearranging his insides later, but between you and me, I prefer a bit more of a challenge than that.”

Daniel flicked his gaze upward. “It’s because you have money.”

Corey drew back to peer at him. “Pardon?”

“The only reason he’s all over you is because you look like you have money.” He couldn’t help it. Something about Yellow Jacket wanted to unearth the spice in him. “You should take what you can get.”

Corey smiled, his chin resting in his palm. “Well, thank God men like him exist. Men like Aaron.”

Daniel blinked down at the floor. What was he doing? He shouldn’t be here having a sass-off with a near stranger. He should be at home sorting out whatever he was feeling with Aaron.

“Does talking about him make you uncomfortable?” Corey asked.

“Of course not.”

“Then what is it, love? What’s wrong? Don’t tell me there’s trouble in paradise.”

Daniel tugged on his earlobe.

“You two young lovers in a quarrel? Can’t imagine what it’s possibly about.”

“No.” Was it a lie? Or were two sides of the coin somehow both true: He’d backed Aaron into a corner by asking him to come get him. At the same time, Aaron hadn’t come to get him.

“It wasn’t a quarrel,” he said. “I needed a minute of space is all.”

The waiter returned with their drinks. It was impressive how he side-eyed Daniel at the same time he giggled for Corey.

“Cheers, darling.” Corey clinked their glasses together. “May you find some fellow out there in the crowd and let some steam off down his throat.”

Wow. Daniel had to blink hard. And he thought he was crude. “I thought we just established I’m in a relationship.”

Corey shot him a bizarre look. “Well, yeah, but a relationship where you get to be with other men, I would assume.”

---