Page 30 of Possession

He pulled his scarf out from under the collar of his coat and shoved it in his pocket before unzipping his jacket. “Is there somewhere I can wait? After I talk to him, I can leave. I understand if you’d rather I not?—”

Before he could finish, Ollie cut him off. “What the hell are you talking about? Of course I want you here. I didn’t want you to go in the first place.”

That was true. Ollie had tried to hide how upset he’d been, but hiding his feelings wasn’t exactly a strong suit of his, and it hadn’t taken long before he’d broken down and asked him and Mason to stay.

And then the entire year they were gone, Ollie had gone out of his way to stay connected to them, to let them know he couldn’t wait for them to come back home. It was unfair of Vinnie to assume that just because he and Mason were fighting, that meant Ollie didn’t want to be friends with him anymore or want him around.

“You’re right, sorry. Everything’s just weird right now.”

“Yeah, but you’re gonna make it better,” Ollie said, making it clear it wasn’t really a suggestion. “But until then…”

“How many cupcakes are we making?” Vinnie asked, swiping at his forehead as he set down the tray of another dozen.

A ridiculously good-looking white man—named Knuckles, of all things—looked up from the list he had been checking. “About a hundred, but I’m wondering if we should do a few dozen more. Better to have too much than run out, don’t you think?”

Vinnie eyed the state of the kitchen. The clubhouse had a full-on, industrial-style kitchen in the very back of the huge building, equipped with a massive stovetop range, multiple ovens, and two double fridges. Instead of allowing him to go and sulk somewhere as he waited to talk to Mason, Ollie had put him to work, helping Knuckles bake the cupcakes for the party, promising him that Emmett would be there as soon as he got off work to help them frost and decorate.

He’d been back there nearly an hour, but Mason hadn’t come in.

He couldn’t help but wonder whether he’d come back but had decided he didn’t want to talk to Vinnie. Then again, there was just as good a chance that Ollie wanted him to keep working and so hadn’t told Mason he was here.

“What are we at?” Vinnie said as he went over to one of the two stand mixers on the counter. He removed the bowl and brought it over to the prepped tins with papers in them, ready for batter to be scooped into them.

“That will make six dozen,” Knuckles said, pointing to the cupcake tin Vinnie was filling.

Vinnie looked up at the ceiling as he figured out how many that was. “Okay, do we have time to do another four or five dozen?”

Knuckles shrugged. “Probably. The party doesn’t technically start until nine, so I think they’re going to put food out around eight.”

Nine o’clock seemed late to start a birthday party to him, but he didn’t say that.

It must have been clear on his face, though, because when Knuckles glanced at him, he chuckled and said, “There were a few people who had to work. To make it as easy as possible for as many people as possible, Ollie set the time for nine.”

“I’m guessing this isn’t going to be like a… traditional birthday party,” Vinnie said, keeping his attention on the paper cups he was filling with the chocolate batter.

Knuckles snorted and took the other mixing bowl to the sink to give it a wash so he could start up the next batch. “You could say that again. Lately, all of the parties around here have gotten pretty wild.”

“So I’ve heard,” Vinnie said neutrally.

Neither one of them said anything for a few minutes, the only sounds Knuckles scrubbing and the soft country music he’d had playing since before Vinnie arrived.

“If you’re not comfortable with it, you don’t have to stay,” Knuckles finally offered. “I don’t usually.”

Vinnie looked up at him, but Knuckles wasn’t paying him any attention, working extra hard to scrub clean the metal bowl and whisk. “I appreciate you saying that,” he offered. “I’m not new to kink, but I don’t know most of these people, so it probably would be a little weird for me to stay if things got too wild.”

If he hadn’t been watching, he wouldn’t have seen the way Knuckles’s shoulders relaxed at his easy words. He wondered if the biker had expected Vinnie to question him or maybe tease him for not hanging out with the rest of the club as they leaned into their hedonistic ways. But Vinnie understood not everyone liked the public aspect of being in the scene, and it was valid. While people like Mason and Ollie adored the attention and were turned on by being watched by others, Vinnie didn’t feel that way, and maybe Knuckles didn’t either.

The things he wanted, the things he craved, were private to him. He never really had any interest in doing them publicly. Whenever a partner in the past had asked, he usually said yes but didn’t get as much enjoyment or pleasure out of the scenes as he did when they were done behind a closed door. The insistence on doing scenes publicly had ended multiple relationships with potential Doms.

“So, what’s the craziest tattoo you’ve ever done?” Vinnie asked, hoping the change of subject would help loosen Knuckles up again. He’d been incredibly funny and appreciative of his help from the moment Ollie shoved him in the kitchen, and Vinnie wanted to make sure he knew that his preferences really didn’t bother him.

Knuckles laughed. “How much time do you have?”

Vinnie smiled, finished filling the second tray, and opened the oven door. “Well, apparently, we’re going to be here for a while, finishing up all these damn cupcakes.”

“Okay, so this one time,” Knuckles started, but the door that led out to the main area of the clubhouse swung open, and there was Mason, eyes wide and jacket still zipped up to his throat. He had a plastic shopping bag clutched in one of his hands.

“Vin?”

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