Marley hadn’t been anywhere near this repulsive when Sam had been seeing him.In the beginning, he’d even showered regularly.Not evenSam’sself-esteem was low enough to date a guy like the current Marley.
Marley dropped a fleshy hand on Sam’s knee, breathing loudly too damn close to his ear.
That’s it.Sam grabbed the shopping bag and stood up, shaking Marley’s hand off.Ian could find him at the truck.Sam took one last glance at him, just leaping to catch the Frisbee, joyously playing some simple game, making the disc sail into the air with a negligent flick.Sam’s heart sank.
He’s not my kind.He faced Marley, who was struggling to get his bulk off the bench.But I’d rather be alone ifhe’smy kind.
Sam turned and headed toward the truck.
Ian didn’t know what the hell had happened.One minute he was having mindless fun at the park, and the next he was seeing Sam walk off with what looked like some obese, homeless guy harassing him.The guy had dreads, a holey T-shirt, and a ratty pair of shorts in danger of slipping off his ass.He was right behind Sam, practically tripping on his heels, not quite up to Sam’s shoulder, but menacing just the same.Ian’s instincts were screaming at him, and he trusted his instincts.
“Gotta go, man!”he shouted at the Frisbee kid, then hurried to catch Sam and the malingering asshole.
When he was a couple feet behind them, he heard the bum say, “Have you had yer watertight boy-pussy reamed lately, Sammy?You used to love it when I did you, dintchoo?C’mon, Sammy-boy, you wanna g—”
Ian grabbed the guy’s shoulder and spun him around, barely stopping himself from raising his fist and smashing the prick’s face in.“Sam,” he said between his teeth.“Who the fuck is this?”
Sam was a good ten feet up the path by then, walking fast, but he stopped cold and slowly turned around.“He’s my ex, Marley,” he said shakily.
Ian almost punched the guy on principle.Not the principle of him being an asshole, although that was reason enough, but the fact that he’d dated Sam and treated him like shit.He took a deep breath and leaned down, right in the guy’s face, despite the fumes wafting off him and Ian’s watering eyes.“Get.The fuck.Out of here.I never want to see you near Sam again.”
Marley the Ex stumbled off with gratifying speed, nearly going down when he turned to scurry away.Ian should have punched him—he’d claim the guy fell on his fist and the cops would go for it, he was sure.
You aren’t that kind of guy.Anymore.
When he turned and got a look at Sam’s pale face and his trembling hands, he wished he was.“Let’s go home,” he said softly.
When they finally made it back to his pickup, Ian’s adrenaline rush was leaving him.He felt as if his frown had set in concrete.Sam wasn’t in any better a mood—he hadn’t said a word to Ian the whole way back, which had the effect of pissing Ian off even more.When they reached the passenger side, he unlocked Sam’s door and yanked it open impatiently, then stalked around to the driver’s side to do the same.
Once they were settled in the cab, he put the key in the ignition but didn’t start it.He could feel Sam’s mood drifting into his space like a dark cloud.Not an angry dark cloud, a depressed one, and Ian had a pretty good idea why.“I can’t believe you went out with a loser like that,” he spat out.Damn, he sounded angry.He needed to tone it down for Sam’s sake.“Youlivedwith him?”
Hell, that wasn’t any better.
Sam turned his face away.Ian could almost see the cloud settling heavier on his head, his body slumping down with it.“Yeah,” he said quietly.
Ian waited for more, but Sam stayed still and silent, his shoulders hunched forward as if for protection.That annoyed Ian too.“Want to tell me why the fuck you’d move in with a prick like that?”
Sam cleared his throat, but didn’t look at him.“He wasn’t as bad when we first met.He wasn’t so overweight, and he took better care of himself.”
Ian closed his eyes a second and, with supreme effort, softened his voice.“That’s not what I mean.I want to know if he treated you like that back then.”
Sam slid further down in the seat, hunching even more, but at least now Ian could see his profile.
“What the fuck were you thinking?”Ian’s voice filled the cab.He struggled to rein it in again.
Sam took a deep breath and straightened up in his seat.It looked like it took a lot of effort.His back straight as a ruler, now, and his shoulders almost back where they belonged, he clasped his hands in his lap tightly.“I don’t know.”
Ian stared.That was it?He didn’t know?But now he looked angry, at least, which was better than depressed—half the reason for Ian’s annoyance, if he was honest.A depressed Sam twisted something under his sternum, giving him a violent need to get rid of the feeling.
Except now Sam was staring out the front windshield like he could melt the glass with his laser-beam eyes.Ian inspected the side of his face, trying to get a clue on how badly he’d fucked up.Because he obviously had.
Hell.
Fine, they’d head back to his place.They could both cool off on the drive, and he’d get some answers there.
Sighing, Ian turned the key and backed out.
Sam should have just let loose and told Ian what a bastard he was, but he didn’t have the energy.Or the balls.Maybe both.
