Page 32 of Blown

“You sure do have a lot of guilt rolling around inside that gorgeous body of yours,” Jake said with a shit-eating grin.

“And I suppose you have none?” Rafe fired back, grabbing his shirt.

Jake shrugged. “I have way more than I make it look like,” he said.

They were silent for far longer than Rafe was comfortable with. Everything seemed wrong, but he wasn’t sure what the right thing should be. He and Jake were in a newish business arrangement. Steve was a friend he’d known for years. The engagement wasn’t real, and as much as Rafe liked Jake, he had no sense of whether anything between them was permanent or whether they were just messing around for convenience.

“It’s okay,” Jake said at last, getting up and heading for the bathroom. “You can go. I get it.”

“It’s just two friends meeting up,” Rafe called after him. “I can call Steve and cancel.”

“No, go on your date,” Jake said, pausing in the doorway. “Honestly, I’d probably do the same thing if I were you. Go have fun.”

It was permission, but Rafe didn’t feel like it was even close to approval. He sighed as he checked his appearance in the mirror over his bureau. He was going into London to one of The Brotherhood’s clubs. He didn’t have the same pulsing excitement and certainty that he would get his rocks off at some point that night that he usually had when he was meeting a guy at a club, but he wanted to look nice.

He left the flat while Jake was still in the shower, his stomach in knots. It was a little unnerving. He used to love the thrill of the hunt, the sly looks across crowded clubs and the shallow conversations over drinks that would lead to him getting a hotel room for the night and thoroughly mussing the sheets.

As he drove into London, he didn’t have that same invigorating feeling. Jake was the one he wanted, but Jake was behind him, not at the other end of the road. Steve was attractive and they’d had fun in the past, but that was all it’d been, fun.

As frustrating as he could be and as many problems as he had, Jake was more than just fun. He needed help on so many levels, but that appealed to Rafe. It appealed far more than it should have.

“Don’t you look delicious,” Steve said as soon as Rafe walked into the club and found him leaning against the bar. The hungry, sweeping look Steve gave him should have thrilled him and made his jeans tight.

“You look good, too,” Rafe answered woodenly.

Steve laughed, which took Rafe by surprise. “Long day, huh?” Steve said, grabbing his hand and pulling him over to the bar.

He’d saved a stool for Rafe, and honestly, it was a relief to sit. Maybe he had just had a long day.

“Turns out teaching a full schedule of classes while also trying to create brilliant, original artwork is exhausting,” Rafe said, forcing himself to relax.

He liked Steve. They were friends. It was perfectly alright for him to have friends and be sort of engaged at the same time.

“Well, I’d be lying if I didn’t say all that work looks good on you,” Steve said, sliding his hand over Rafe’s and winking.

“Thanks.” Rafe lowered his head under the compliment. Whether it should have or not, it felt good to be complimented. It felt good to be the center of someone’s attention for once instead of constantly battling for the spotlight.

Maybe having a little fun with Steve wasn’t such a bad idea. It was something he could do for himself, something that would make him feel like he used to.

And if that wasn’t a stupid, convenient lie he didn’t know what was.

“So how are things in the London financial market?” he asked, turning the conversation to Steve and his life to take the spotlight off himself.

“Oh, you know.” Steve shrugged and gestured for the bartender. “Money makes the world go ’round. Actually, I’ve just started working with your cousin, Baxter.”

Rafe ordered a drink then relaxed into Steve’s explanation of everything going on in his life and how Bax’s new LGBTQ-focused accounting business was helping him. It was soothing and easy. Letting someone else drone on while you nodded and asked leading questions in the right places didn’t require all that much brain.

Wasn’t that why he’d enjoyed dating and clubbing so much in the past? He could turn off his brain and let other parts of his body lead for a change. He’d never been disappointed, except onthe nights when he and his partner of the moment had had too much to drink. But even those times had fond, silly memories attached to them.

The more Steve droned on, though, the hollower Rafe felt. Was that it? Was that all he’d cared about in the past? It was clear that Steve was just talking to fill space before they got down to what they were ostensibly there for, but was that what Rafe really wanted?

“So then Kyle said to me ‘You can’t sell a horse to the airline industry’,” Steve said, then proceeded to laugh hilariously.

Rafe laughed with him, but he’d completely lost the thread of the conversation. He peeked around subtly as Steve went on, scooting closer on his stool and running his fingers along the back of Rafe’s hand and wrist as it rested on the bar.

The majority of the men laughing, flirting, and dancing in the middle of the club were younger than him. Some of the guys sitting at the bar or at intimate tables scattered around the perimeter were older, but not many. A lot of the guys wore wedding rings, whether they were young or old. They danced and gyrated with each other, but it was clear that there were established couples mingled in with the young guys looking for a good time.

If you had asked Rafe which of those groups of guys he wanted to be a part of a year ago, he would have stuck himself in with the hot, young twinks just looking to get laid. Those days were long gone, though. Now his gaze drifted to the older guys at the tables, their arms around each other as they engaged in what looked like lively conversations with their friends instead of grinding with the cuties on the dance floor.

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