Page 112 of Still Bruised
“I’m going to need it,” Cary said before draining his bottle. He waved the server down and ordered another. Turning to Foster, he asked, “Need another?”
“Nope,” Foster said, lifting his half full bottle. “I’m still good.”
Cary leaned closer to the server. “Add another shot of tequila for me, too, hmm?”
“Sure thing, Cary,” the woman said before heading for the bar.
Cary scowled at Foster. “I want to forget the last few days.”
The server returned with Cary’s beer and shot. He downed the shot and then drained a third of the bottle within seconds.
“Keep it up and you’ll be too hammered to go tomorrow night,” Foster said.
“You already said yes,” Cary said before taking another long gulp of beer. “You’re not squirming out of it now. We both need to get laid to get the wrong men out of our heads.”
21
Jude eyed himself in the mirror, considering cancelling on Anton for the hundredth time. There was no way he was going to be in the mood for partying, but he couldn’t back out. Anton was too excited and likely wouldn’t go if Jude wasn’t his wingman. While Anton had been semi-out for years, he’d kept his sexuality hidden from most—except from his closest friends. He’d exclusively dated women up until his last breakup. Only then had he stepped fully out of the closet and started exploring his bisexuality—but it was less than a year since that happened.
Anton attending his first gay Halloween party was basically a rite of passage.
No way was Jude taking that away from him, even if he thought the holiday was a bit blown out of proportion. But then, costumes and masks just weren’t his thing. He liked seeing exactly who he was dealing with.
No confusion. No subterfuge.
‘Twas the season, though, and he was dressed as expected.
Jude adjusted his short toga, wishing it was alittlebit longer. It barely covered his ass. There was little he could do and there would be skimpier costumes, considering where they were going, so he shrugged it off. He heard the door open downstairs and Anton’s big, booted feet coming up. After adding the fake sword and scabbard to his Roman Centurian costume and snagging the helmet, he walked out of his bedroom and eyed Anton.
Anton’s grin was massive. He held out his hands and spun in a circle, showing off his costume. “Well? You think the guys will like it?”
“You’ll have to beat them off with a stick,” Jude said, eyeing Viking warrior Anton.
“If they’re cute, they can beat their sticks off in me,” Anton said, wagging his eyebrows.
Jude chuckled.
Antondidlook particularly menacing, which some guys were seriously going to dig. The braids, face paint, fake axe, and furry outfit coupled with his beefy six-foot-five frame would make him a fan favorite, Jude was sure.
“Ready?” Anton asked.
“Yeah. Let’s go,” Jude said, forcing a smile.
Anton raced down the stairs. He talked a mile a minute all the way to the platform, which was good. Jude didn’t feel like talking. Once they got to the party, it would be too loud for conversation, which was even better. The train was just pulling up as they arrived at the station, and they hustled to get on before it left.
Once they’d found their seats, Jude searched the crowd around them, checking out how many others were going out for a night of fun. Folks of all ages were in costumes. It added a level of excitement to the air that normally wasn’t there. Too bad it didn’t boost Jude’s vibe.
They pulled from the station and headed south.
“You’ve been awfully quiet tonight,” Anton said once the train got some speed behind it.
Jude shrugged. “Just a lot on my mind.”
“You said the same thing Sunday. What’s up?”
Jude shrugged. “Before you know it, Thanksgiving’s going to be here. Shop’s going to be super busy.” He eyed a couple of guys dressed in skimpy costumes. Maybe they were going to Paradise, too. “I’ve got a lot to do to get ready.”
“Ah,” Anton said. A few seconds passed before he asked, “What’s Foster doing tonight while you’re out with me?”
