Landon pulled Jack up alongside him in front of Gregory with a broad smile.
“Gregory, this is one of my best friends, Jack Martin.”
Gregory held his hand out. “Good to meet you.”
“Same, same.” Jack and Gregory shook hands. “Thanks for sending Verity my way; they’re much more tolerable than your little lover.”
Verity snorted, looking around the bar then narrowing their eyes on Landon.
“You forgot the limes,” they accused.
“Fuck. I’m sorry.” Landon shrugged apologetically.
“Time to get to work, Daddy,” Verity told Jack playfully, pulling him behind the bar and handing him a knife.
The door to the club pushed open, the creaking wood echoing around the space. Landon reluctantly separated himself from Gregory and looked over his shoulder to see Justin and Micah coming in.
“Ready for some drama?” Landon muttered, pressing in under Gregory’s arm and resting his head on his shoulder.
“It’s gonna be quite a night,” Gregory agreed, glancing over his shoulder at the clock behind the bar. It was just before eight, almost time to open.
Micah was looking around like he was hoping to find someone else there, a fleeting mask of disappointment ghosting across his face before he reached up and fumbled with the leather collar twined around his neck.
“Is Keith not here yet?” he asked Gregory and Landon in lieu of a greeting.
“Uhm,” Landon scrubbed his hands over his face, not wanting to be the bearer of what he now was pretty certain was bad news. He’d met these guys a handful of times, and even been naked in front of them, but this seemed like treacherous territory.
“He, uh, came by, I think. Left something for you.”
Gregory turned and asked Verity for the manila envelope, passing it to Justin with a sad smile.
“He said to give you this.”
“Fuck!” Micah shouted, in the most aggressive tone Landon had ever heard him use. Gregory’s shocked expression seemed to indicate the reaction was very much out of the ordinary for him.
Justin’s hand was around Micah’s throat in no time, and Micah’s eyes widened, even as he tried to glare at Justin. Micah curled his fingers around Justin’s hand and scowled at him, struggling for breath.
“Calm. Down,” Justin ordered, voice still and calm.
Micah’s fought him. His eyes filled with tears, but he nodded, dropping his hands to his sides. Justin held him a moment longer, then released him and slid the same hand around Micah’s shoulder, pulled him in, and wrapped him in his arms.
Justin said something into Micah’s ear and he nodded, reaching between their bodies to wipe his face. Justin said something else, squeezed Micah, then stepped back.
“I’m sorry for the way I spoke out of turn,” Micah said softly.
Landon reached his arm around Gregory’s side and dug his fingers into his waist, pulling their bodies closer together.
“It’s okay,” Gregory promised, patting Landon’s hand and nodding at Justin and Micah.
“Sorry, I’m late!” Aaron’s voice rang through the club and Landon heard Verity groan behind him. Aaron’s leather-clad legs closed the space between the front door and the bar in no time.
Aaron’s eyes flicked toward Verity, then narrowed when they landed on Jack.
“Who’s the interloper?” Aaron asked, trying, and failing, to send off a vibe of nonchalance.
Landon raised an eyebrow and looked up at Gregory, who just shrugged.
“This is Jack,” Verity said, wrapping an arm around Jack’s waist and resting their head against his shoulder. “He’s an old friend. From New York.”
