Page 4 of Romeo vs Romeo

The proximity had been so sudden that my body reacted in this wild way that was revolting yet too powerful to resist. I had brought him so close that I could smell his sweet breath when he huffed and cracked a smile. He had this twisted glare in his eyes, like being pushed around by a guy who was half a foot taller than him was his favorite pastime. I hated it. It sickened me. It sickened me so much that I had to push him away and hurry outside for a breath of fresh air.

“Ever tried it with a guy to make sure?”he had asked me before my temper snapped. But that wasn’t the worst of all. It was his smug laughter like getting me angry had been his personal mission, and seeing me break and lurch at him was somehow fun or exciting.

I had seen him before that, too. He was a regular here, and he also worked the bar on and off. Of all of them who practically lived here, he was the one I wanted to avoid the most, but he haunted me. I’d seen him with a black eye once, and my heart murmured and sank. I had seen him with a bloodied lip, laughing and wincing in pain, and it made my chest crash on itself much like it had been crashing this morning when I had gazed at the way that twin brother ate the sacramental bread and drank the wine. More so. This guy…

Fuck.

He was pushing himself away from the bar and walking toward me.

I set my beer down and made for the door, but the fucker cut through the crowd and stood right in front of me, looking up in defiance.

“Let me pass,” I said in a flat monotone.

“Wait,” he said, his voice softer than two weeks ago. He had been drunk, I recalled.

“Didn’t you get enough already?” I asked, hands closing into fists.

The guy lifted his hands in surrender and stepped back, but he was still in my way. “Easy, there,” he said. “I just want to talk.”

“Good for you,” I bit off.

“You don’t want to hear me apologize for the other day?” he asked.

My jaw moved left and right as I stared at him. “If you’re trying to get a read on me, don’t.”

“I’m not,” he said. “I mean, maybe, but I mainly want to buy you a drink and say I’m sorry.” He looked at the bar behind me and cringed. “Beer? You really arestraight.”

It was an arrow aimed right at my heart. My nostrils flared. “Are you some fucked-up psycho who likes getting punched?”

“No,” he said, laughing. “But it happens more than you think. I have a very high pain tolerance.” He tacked on the last part as if it was important. I hated that it made my guts twist and knot, and I didn’t know why.

“You should back the fuck off,” I warned him.

“Hey, I was a dick,” he said, not backing the fuck off. “I was drunk and angry, and I made assumptions. You have to admit, we don’t get a lot of straight bros around here. And those we do…well, let’s just say they don’t need much talking before they take their wedding rings off.”

A horrible realization came over me. Before I could stop them, the words tumbled out of my mouth. “Is this a…brothel?”

“What?” He frowned, then threw his head back and laughed. “My man, never do something you love for money, or you’ll start hating it.”

“So what? You just…?” I couldn’t get the words out of my mouth. I was furious that he’d dragged me into a conversation,to begin with, and then I was extra angry that I was such a gullible fuck.

“Hook up,” he said. “But I don’t do it against anyone’s will if that worries you.”

I snorted. “As if you could.” But my stomach was rising just from insinuating that he might try something funny. That wasn’t why I was here.

Still, the thought lingered. He was shorter, but he was feisty and scruffy and accustomed to physical confrontations. Not that I was interested in finding out more about him. I was not. I had no business learning anything about him or any other guy in here. They were all here to indulge in their most basic instincts, not caring if it was right or wrong.

And you’re here just to watch it, a small voice told me.

My throat tightened. Yeah. I was watching. I was watching them make fools out of themselves, dancing, touching, groping, pressing against each other. But I did none of that. None.

I thrust my arm forward and swept this annoying fucker away, then marched to the door and walked out.

Last time, that had been enough to get him off my back. He had stayed behind. I’d scared him enough into quitting whatever he was trying to do. This time? He ran after me. “Hey, no, wait. Don’t do that.”

I kept walking another five or six paces before stopping. My throat was still tight, so I spoke hoarsely. “Why not? What the fuck do you want?”

“I want to make it right,” he said. “And to leave you alone if that’s what you want.”

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