Page 26 of Still Bruised
Foster didn’t wait for an answer. He marched out into the late August heat, avoiding Rick and the gang. Halfway down the street, Cary caught up with him.
“You just left me with them.Thanks.”
“Sorry,” Foster said, shaking his head. “I needed to get away from those mouth breathers before I lost control.”
“It’s still new,” Cary said.
Foster turned toward Cary, frowning.
“They treated me like shit for a few months after I came out… until they got bored. Just let it blow over.”
“It didn’t sound like they’ve let it go,” Foster snapped. “They got in some jabs at you, too.”
“Well, your newfound notoriety coupled with seeing us together made me low-hanging fruit. We both know those jerks aren’t smart enough to use anything but.”
“I can’t believe I was ever friends with them. It feels like a million years ago.”
Cary chuckled. “Feels like a dream I had… not even real.”
Foster chuckled mirthlessly. “More like a nightmare.”
They both walked a few more paces without speaking, Foster trying to let go of his irritation.
“So, anyway… I was glad to run into you because I’d planned to give you a call,” Cary said. “Are you interested in going into the city with me this weekend?”
“For?”
Cary hesitated, which piqued Foster’s interest a bit. After his long, hot trek into New York for his interview, the idea of returning any time soon didn’t sound appealing. It had better be a good reason.
“I’ve been invited to a private party next Saturday night. I was wondering if you might like to come with me.”
Foster eyed Cary’s profile before he stopped in his tracks, remembering what Rick had said. Cary paused and turned his way.
“I like you, Cary… but you’re pretty much the only person who’ll talk to me these days. I think we should stick to friends. I’m not in the right headspace for any kind of relationship right now.”
“I’m not asking you out on a date, dumbass. You’re not my type,” Cary snapped before tossing a grin Foster’s way. “I just… think you might be interested in meeting some…acquaintances.”
Foster breathed a sigh of relief. “Who are these acquaintances?”
“Friends who… share… my tastes,” Cary added.
Foster searched Cary’s face, sensing a hint but not sure. “What tastes are we talking about?”
“Damn,Foster. Are you purposefully acting thick?”
When Cary shoved his hands in his pockets and a lurid grin stretched across his lips, Foster sensed he’d been right to assume it was probably sex.
“I’m inviting you to an orgy,” Cary said under his breath.
Foster’s eyes widened.
“It’s being held by a guy I know in the city. I’m not taking you to some back alley dive, I promise. He’s got a really nice place on the Upper East Side and the people he invites are typically well-educated, clean-cut, white collar types.”
The word “no” was on the tip of Foster’s tongue. An orgy really wasn’t his speed. Foster wasn’t very experienced. He’d only had sex with five people in his entire life. Yet for some reason a “yes” came out of his mouth. He grew embarrassed the moment it popped out.
Cary grinned. “From the scowl, I wasn’t expecting that response.”
Foster blinked a few times. “Me either.”
