Page 21 of Blown

Once the door was shut, Jake pushed his safety goggles up onto his forehead and gave Rafe a curious look. “Is that the problem? You have comparison anxiety?”

Rafe hated the pinch of jealousy that Jake’s suggestion sparked in him. He was jealous of Jake’s talent, but he didn’t like feeling that way.

“Not really,” he said, pulling off his gloves and moving over to the side, where a bottle of water was waiting for him. “I’m not used to not being the only artist at our level.”

“Gotcha,” Jake said, pulling off his gloves and goggles entirely. “You should probably go to therapy for that,” he teased Rafe, then joined him at the side counter.

He touched Rafe’s arm and kept his hand there as balance while he leaned over to get a bottle of water. Rafe buzzed at the touch and at the smell of Jake’s sweat as he swayed close. Spending the day in a confined space with someone you reluctantly fancied and were sort of engaged to did mad things to his libido.

Jake swigged a few swallows from his water bottle as Rafe watched his Adam’s apple bob, then set it down and thumped Rafe’s arm again. “I’m going to pop over to the loo. I’ll be back in a jiff and we can blow each other some more. I mean, blowwitheach other some more.” He winked like Rafe was a member of the audience, then slipped through the booth’s exit and headed off to the bathrooms.

Rafe watched him go, then shook his head when he realized he was pining for his partner. His glassblowing partner, that is. The engagement was just for a visa, nothing more. He had too much work to do to think about anything more.

Before he could get back to blowing another goblet, he went to check with Sarah, one of the arts center’s students who had come by to help out by manning the till. They were doing well that day. Rafe was certain Jake had everything to do with that.

He was about to head back to work when a familiar voice snagged his attention with, “Alright, Rafe?”

Rafe turned and smiled when he spotted his friend, Steve, approaching the side of the booth.

“Not bad,” he said, heading over to greet Steve with a handshake. A handshake that turned into a hug. “You’re back from Singapore.”

“Yeah, I just got back yesterday,” Steve said, sweeping his body with an appreciative look. “You’re looking great. All this fresh air and sunshine suits you.”

Rafe laughed. His insides jumped around as much as Jake did when he was nervous. “I’m doing what I love best,” he said, glancing to the furnace.

“I thought you loved something else best,” Steve said with a saucy wiggle of his eyebrows.

Rafe caught his breath around the familiar pulse of lust that filled him. He did like something else. He always had. His family had always teased him for having a man in every city and a little black book as fat as a dictionary. That had always been who he was, who he wanted to be. It was strange for him to have gone as long as he had recently without sex.

“I’m trying to be serious about glass these days,” he told Steve, crossing his arms loosely but still smiling. His instinct to hook up with someone nice, fit, and friendly was at war with Jake’s nearly constant presence in his mind. “I learned a lot in Corning and I’m eager to take my work to the next level,” he said, smooth and conversational.

“I’m sure we’ll all be saying we knew you when someday,” Steve said, reaching out and patting Rafe’s arm.

It was maddening. His body screamed at him to grab whatever chance for a good time he could, but his mind warned him he was engaged. Except a different part of his mind laughed, because it was a fake, utilitarian engagement and he owed Jake nothing. They’d spent all day flirting, but Jake was part of the same community Rafe was. Casual sex was never off the table, and Jake understood that.

“So we still on for Friday?” Steve asked, sending another arrow of self-consciousness right through the heart of the dilemma that had popped up out of nowhere.

Shit. He’d completely forgotten making a date with Steve for when he got back from his business trip.

“That’s right.” Rafe shifted his weight uneasily. “Friday, yeah. Where do you want to meet up?”

“Cupid’s Arrow?” Steve suggested. “I know it’s on the loud side these days, but it’s incredibly popular at the moment.”

Rafe nodded. He’d been to Cupid’s Arrow a few times. It was one of the hotter nightclubs associated with The Brotherhood. It had opened about ten years before and changed names and vibes several times before settling into the fun nightclub it was now.

“Yeah, sure, that’d be great,” he said, though he was anything but sure.

“Fantastic,” Steve said, squeezing his arm again. “I’ll see you then. I’m here with Dave, so I’d better catch up with him, but I’ll see you Friday.”

Rafe waved as Steve walked off, sending him a heated smile as he left. He kept staring out across the busy Renaissance Faire well after Steve walked around a corner.

It was the weirdest feeling, not knowing whether he should feel guilty for having a date when he was fake-engaged to Jake. He’d made the date a couple weeks ago because he’d really needed to get laid. Steve had been about to leave for his extended business trip overseas, so they’d scheduled the date way in advance.

Rafe shook his head and walked back to the furnace to organize things for a second before starting another goblet. Should he feel guilty for keeping a prior arrangement with someone else, now that Jake was in his life? It felt wrong to cancel on Steve, but it also felt wrong to go out with someone else, even though Jake only really wanted him for a visa.

How did life end up with these sort of weird conundrums anyhow?

“You miss me?” Jake asked when he returned to the booth with a spring in his step.

---