Page 77 of Go Deep

Is this the universe’s way of telling me I’ll just never be happy?

I manage a smile for the bouncer who’s staring at me with hearts in his eyes. Not that I want to lead him on or anything, but later on I might need a distraction, and he could be it.

The bar is dark, the dance floor packed with guys dancing, grinding, groping, some pretty much fucking. It’s hot, sweaty, and the perfect place for me to drown my sorrows tonight.

“Gabe,” Lucas calls out over the pulsating music. He waves his hands in the air to signal me. I push my way through the throngs of guys swaying to the pounding beats in the VIP lounge and collapse onto the purple velvet couch.

Lucas hands me a Red Bull vodka and we clink our glasses before I guzzle mine down like it’s water, not ninety-percent booze.

“Wow, you have a rough day or something?” Lucas takes a sip and sets his glass down on the table in front of us.

Looks like Lucas missed the memo, too. Good. Maybe people really don’t give a damn after all.

My skin prickles with rage. That asshole Bob is probably the one who set us up, but fuck you, Bob. Joke’s on you. Nobody fucking cares!

“You could say that. But I’m over it. What’s up, Lucas? Everything okay?”

He lets out a deep sigh and drags his finger over the condensation forming on the outside of his glass. “Yes.” He pauses. “No.” Then a second later, “I’m not really sure.”

My brows furrow, and I lean forward. “Does this have something to do with Maxwell and that look he gave you in the locker room?” Anger bubbles in my chest. “Give me a reason to beat the fucking hell out of him and his homophobic?—”

“No, no.” Lucas shakes his head. “It’s not that. He didn’t do anything to me.” He swirls the ice around in his glass. “Exactly.”

“What does that mean?” I down another cocktail while he puts down his glass and wrings his hands together.

It’s weird to see him so flummoxed. He’s always been open about his sexual orientation and came out right after he was drafted. He’s got a really supportive family and is one of the most amazing right tackles the league has ever seen, so he never really had to face any opposition or contention from fans. At least, from what I can tell. Nothing seems to shatter his confidence or his larger-than-life personality.

So I can’t imagine why he’d be so rocked by whatever he’s about to tell me.

Lucas looks around like he expects us to be bombarded by paparazzi, but nobody is paying attention. “I went to a concert at Velvet the other night to see this band I love, Sin City. Lead singer is hotter than hell and always puts on a good show. Wehooked up once before. I was hammered and so was he. It was a long time ago, though.”

I nod, half-hearing and not really getting all the exposition, but maybe it’s because I’ve already chugged a fifth of vodka since he started this story. “Okay…”

“Anyway, I went to the bar and ran into someone.” He looks around again. “It was Jase.”

“Maxwell? At Velvet?” My eyes pop open wide, and I shoot up straight on the couch cushion.

“Yeah. He seemed pretty edgy and nervous, drinking by himself. He was wearing a baseball cap, trying to be invisible, I guess. I went up to him anyway, and he looked at me like he’d just gotten busted after a failed drug test.”

“Did he tell you why he was there?”

“Turns out his cousin is the drummer.” Lucas makes a face. “The band was in town, and he came out to see the show.”

“Interesting choice of words.”

A blank look flits across Lucas’s face and his lips curl upward. “Oh. Yeah.”

I run a hand through my hair. “So what happened next?

Lucas moves closer, as if he’s scared there’s a hidden microphone looming.

Curiosity grabs hold of my now slightly cloudy brain. Just at that second, my phone buzzes against my leg. Once, twice, three times. The vibration tugs my attention away from Lucas’ story.

At the same time, Lucas pulls his own phone out. I look up and notice others doing the same thing. My chest tightens inexplicably, and I grab mine out of my pocket. A CNN news alert flashes on my screen, and before I can click it, I hear Lucas mumble to himself.

“Holy fuck.” He looks at me, his eyes wide with shock.

In my periphery, the bouncer from outside makes his way toward the VIP lounge with a group of guys. A hot flush creeps up the side of my neck. I try to ignore the stares and the pointing.

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