“There you are,” his friend Aaron said, nearly walking right into him. “I wondered where you’d gone off to.”
Gregory cleared his throat. “Just taking a breather for a sec.”
“I know,” Aaron said with a nod. “That was super intense. Justin and Micah are amazing when they come together like that, man.”
Gregory clenched his jaw and nodded, realizing he’d missed the most important moment of two of his friends’ lives because he was on his knees in the corner of a club for a sub who didn’t even want him anymore.
“Hey, Gregory!”
He heard Justin call his name over their small crowd of friends. He turned his head and tipped his chin up, letting Justin know he had his attention.
“Can you grab some more whiskey?” He held up an empty bottle and shook it.
Gregory nodded, although he’d rather do anything than go downstairs and face Landon after he’d been rejected so coldly. It must have shown on his face because Aaron held his hand up to stop him.
“I’ll go, you enjoy yourself up here. Or maybe go enjoy yourself down there. It’s been awhile since you’ve played, hasn’t it?”
Gregory squinted and inhaled sharply. “Are you and Justin trying to marry me off next or something?”
Aaron barked out a laugh and shook his head. “Definitely not, man. Just want to see you happy.”
“I am happy,” he protested.
“We just want to see you less alone?” Aaron countered, tipping his voice up into a search for the right word.
“Do you and Justin spend a lot of your free time worrying about my sex life?”
"Oh, not just me and Justin. Micah, too, and sometimes Keith.” Aaron laughed and turned down the stairs, leaving Gregory alone, half in and half out of the alcove.
Gregory didn’t think he could go mingle with his friends without ruining their mood so he made his way down the stairs anyway and pushed into the crowd of people dancing in the center of the club. He closed his eyes, rocking his head from side to side until he found the beat, then started to dance.
He didn’t know how long he danced for, or how many songs had played, but he knew he had broken a sweat so he reached up and tore at the snaps on his shirt, pulling it open. A blast of cool air hit his sweaty chest and it sent a tremor of gooseflesh across his body. Gregory dropped his head back and let his neck go loose as he swayed and shifted around to the steady bass of the songs, only stopping when he found himself panting for a drink.
Not ready to approach the bar and risk facing Verity or Landon, he pushed through the people and into the parking lot. He hoped he had a bottle of water in his car somewhere, and he was bent over his backseat fumbling around when he heard Landon’s voice behind him.
“What are you doing here?” His words were quiet and tentative, like he wasn’t sure he should be there.
Gregory startled and slammed his head against the roof of his car then stood, face to face again with his high school sweetheart.
“Justin and Micah.”
Landon rolled his eyes. “I meant Los Angeles.”
“What am I doing in Los Angeles?” Gregory scoffed. “I could ask you the same thing, Landon.”
“I’m running my fucking business, that’s what I’m doing.”
“If I’m so terrible, Landon, what are you doing following me into the parking lot?”
The gravel crunched as Landon shifted his weight unsteadily from foot to foot. The parking lot was dark—not as dark as inside the club, but Gregory could easily make out the shapes and lines of Landon’s body two feet in front of him.
“When did you come back?” Gregory asked him, his quest for water forgotten.
“Almost five years.”
“Seven,” Gregory shared, unprompted, as though his being back in Los Angeles for longer somehow made it more acceptable that he’d stumbled into the one club in the city owned by an ex.
“Yet you’re never been to Rapture.”
