“I should go,” Bryan announced, sounding pleased with himself. “Gio, thanks for breakfast.”
I had to turn to acknowledge him, and I almost bumped into Tate. I stepped aside smoothly acting as though I wasn’t affected by his naked shoulder brushing me.
“No problem. All the best in your interview.”
He smiled and said thanks before leaving Tate and me alone. Finally. I wished I had the guts to act on my feelings just then. How would he react if I grabbed him by the ass? No doubt he would have been surprised. He had no idea I was gay. I was quite open with other people about my sexuality, and I frequented gay clubs. I had an eager redhead, with the worst case of freckles I had ever seen, who loved to return home with me. The horny slut was always available and his hole, ready and willing. Sometimes I had the feeling he had fallen in love with me or at least our sex. Either way, he was for my temporary satisfaction only.
“Thanks for doing this,” he said, serving himself a heaping of pancakes, eggs, and bacon strips. He always had a big appetite. It was good to see that some things at least hadn’t changed. Sometimes I wondered if he was the same man I knew from college. I had almost hero-worshipped him back then.
“Don’t mention it.” I poured a cup of coffee for him, the way he liked it, black and strong. “I figured you were right. If Bryan’s now the man in your life, then I should try to get along with him.”
He chewed the pancakes and closed his eyes, groaning in total enjoyment of his meal. I always loved the way he went gooey at my food. He was the reason I had taken a chance and opened the restaurant. My business might not have been hauling in the same amount of cash Tate's operation, but it was mine and growing.
“I swear there’s something extra you put in your food to make it this good.” He took a sip of the coffee, and the look of contentment that took over his features made me wonder if that was how he appeared after he was sated in the bedroom. “I swear if I hadn’t met Bryan I would have married you just for the sake of the food.”
I laughed along with him, hoping he didn’t hear how hollow it sounded. It was cruel for him to tease me like that. “Ah, but if that happened, I doubt it would just be for the food.” I started counting off on my fingers. “Your mom adores me and practically thinks of me as her son.”
He grunted. “She likes you even more than her own son.”
“That’s because you were always so close to your dad,” I replied, then continued with my list. “You and I know everything about each other. We like the same sports. We are a part of the same tennis club and country club.”
“Yes, we are.”
“We are both financially secure,” I continued as if he hadn’t spoken. “And you love me, right? We practically have all the ingredients that make a marriage successful.”
Tate laughed and rose to his feet to add more pancakes to his plate.
“I do love you, man.” He chuckled, squeezing way too much syrup onto the pancakes. “But, Bryan has interrupted our not-so-romantic relationship. I feel like he could be the one.”
Just like that, I deflated. “The one who will rob you blind?”
He scowled at me. “Are we back to that?”
“Sorry. Old habits die hard. So, tell me how you met him.”
“Fine, I’ll tell you how we met so you can bugger off our case.”
Chapter Two
(Keith)
“Jesus Christ, Keith. I know you finally came clean to us and all, but did you have to choose this place for us to meet?”
My eyes roaming the strip club, I answered without even looking at Lance. “Shut up, Lance, and we’ll pretend you haven’t been checking out the redhead with the freckles shaking his bony ass. Bi-curious, are you now?”
Lance let out a strangled sound, and I glanced at him to find his cheeks ruddy at being caught ogling one of the strippers. He had been shocked when I came out a couple of weeks ago after Bryan had run off on me. Of all my friends, I had correctly surmised that, if any were bi-curious, it would be him. He laughed just a little too loud at the gay jokes and tried to best us with material about gay men. The behavior was a classic case of denial, to pretend we hated something by ridiculing it, so others didn't know how much we actually enjoyed it. I figured him out because I had been doing for a long time. Even while Bryan had lived with me, nobody suspected I was gay.
“There’s nothing wrong with a little looking,” Lance grumbled in a low tone. “It doesn’t mean that I’m gay."
I would bet my last dollar that once we left the club, Lance would be back on his own. It was understandable. Some of the hottest asses stripped in this club, and he was looking at the best of the seducers. Regardless of your type, muscular or lean they were all here at Manny’s.
Ignoring Lance, I continued surveying the strip club, feeling more frustrated by the minute. How hard was it to find a blond twink with innocent looking blue eyes, lips made for sinning, and a plump ass ready for the picking? I had been so sure I would have found someone at least similar at Manny’s. I had a serious case of Bryan Withdrawal Syndrome. I missed the little fucker something awful. He haunted my condo. Everywhere I looked I had a memory of him. I had fucked up with him, but all I’d needed was a little understanding. I glared at Lance, blaming him. If he hadn’t opened his big mouth and cracked those jokes about Bryan, I’d still have him in my bed, spreading those sweet cheeks of his for me. Instead, he was probably lying in bed at this moment with that hot shot who ran Rosenbaum’s. I had researched everything I possibly could about the man who had stolen my boy from me.
“Why are you glaring at me like that?” Lance tugged at the collar of his shirt. He was used to my infamous temper. “What did I do now?”
“Just thinking how you cost me Bryan,” I answered. “You were really getting at him with those gay jokes. You took it too far.”
“Me? You were laughing right along.”