Page 7 of Grave Misgivings
“Of course it is,” I murmur as Hailee and Celina squeal with excitement, dragging Richie and Hans to the dance floor.
“Dungeons? Like Dungeons and Dragons?” Dare speaks up inquisitively, drawing my attention to his curious gaze.
Mateo turns to him as well, and I don’t miss the way he raises his eyebrow at the young twenty-something man.
Dare’s expression is like a babe in the woods. I would have assumed someone like him—young, attractive, with boatloads of charisma—would be more than familiar with a place like this.
I mean, isn’t that what young twenty-something guys do?
Go to clubs?
Fuck bitches, get money, and all that?
I mean, I wouldn’t know, because my twenties were spent at religious fairs and conservative events, and I had a fucking curfew. Try dating in your twenties with a fucking chaperone and a curfew.
Tiffany, my first serious girlfriend came when I was twenty-one, and my manager—my mother, at the time—had a fucking field day with it.
That’s why I always liked working with Zeb, to be honest. I didn’t have to pretend to be someone I wasn’t with him. Despite my fucked up image and lack of a love life, Zeb didn’t care what I did or didn’t know about anything, and it was the one place I could escape beingGeo Graves, Christian Rock Artist, and just be... me. For a couple years, anyway.
It was always about the music and nothing more.
Zeb was a safe place, despite the fact he’s the same age as my sister.
What did that say about me?
That at twenty-six, my best friend was a damn sixteen-year old?
A sixteen-year old who was a musical genius, but still.
“You’ve got to be kidding me,” Mateo drawls as I attempt to pour myself another glass of champagne, if only because I don’t want to think about how terrible of an idea this was.
“What are you even still doing here? Aren’t you supposed to be out there?” Mateo’s voice pulls me from my brooding walk down memory lane, and I turn to see him motion to Dare, shooing him and insinuating he should leave.
His tone is bitter, sarcastic, but I don’t miss the way his entire body shifts, or the way he adjusts his damn jeans. Nonchalantly, of course.
I shoot Mateo a bombastic side-eye, because even though IknowDare didn’t notice, I’m more than sure it wasn’t coincidental.
I clutch my drink, and Mateo shrugs me off, proverbially flipping me an invisible finger as if to say, “You didn’t see shit, G.”
I’ve never had any issue with the fact Mateo is openly gay, despite the fact I was raised in purity culture. Actually, if I’m being honest, it’s always been kind of a blessing because it is a lot easierknowinghe is, because like Zeb, I don’t have to worry about sex the way I do when I am with everyone who is straight. And I never assumed just because Mateo was gay that he was into me, like so many men do.
As if being a man in the presence of a man who likes men is an automaticI want to fuck you.
Besides, I’m not his type, and even if I was, it still wouldn’t bother me, I don’t think.
Mateo has always been cool with the fact I’ve built my career on being a virgin and straight edge, and I’ve always been cool with the fact that he was openly gay and a bit of a dick to everyone but the people he truly cares about.
I feign a look away, but I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t interested in the rare mating event happening before my eyes. Seriously, it is like watching a National Geographic Special on Caveman Rituals.
Because honestly, it doesn’t make any sense. Mateo, the poised, sarcastic, dark and moody sexpot, and the cute, young, emo golden retriever.
“What about you? You just going to sit here all night like a Kingpin?” Dare bites back at Mateo, who regards him with an annoyed look.
“I do not engage,” Mateo replies.
It feels like I’m watching something I have no business watching, but like a train wreck, I can’t look away, either.
Something about their exchange and banter makes me homesick.
