Gregory bristled, remembering the familiar way Verity had touched Landon last night, and the way Landon had artfully misdirected the conversation when Gregory had asked about their relationship and then never fully answered him.
“Do you two…” Not a question. Not even a full statement. Just a sentiment that burned his throat as the words formed.
“We’ve never had intercourse,” Verity said, and Gregory was aware that was just as cagey of an answer as the one Landon had given him last night. “It’s not my place to tell you what he and I do or have done. If he wants you to know those things, he can tell you.”
“Fair enough. Fine,” Gregory grumbled.
“Back to the topic at hand, though. Come to Rapture tonight. I’ll make sure he talks with you. That’s what you want, isn’t it?”
Gregory closed his eyes and nodded. “Yeah.”
“Landon will be here when the club opens. He’s disagreeable so I’m going to keep him in the office, but at some point he’ll go upstairs to check that the bar is stocked. I’m sure you’ll be able to find him there before midnight.”
“Right.”
“Good?”
“Good,” Gregory confirmed, his mind already racing with ideas, with plans—with hopes.
“And bring your friend,” Verity added on, a smile in their voice.
“My friend?”
They laughed. “Thighmaster.”
Gregory sputtered a laugh. “I’m sorry, who?”
“I didn’t catch his name. You know the one. He looks like he could crack walnuts with his thighs.”
“Aaron.” Gregory chuckled, thinking of his friend who was undoubtedly already three Bloody Marys deep waiting for Gregory to show up at the restaurant. “I’ll see what I can do.”
“That’s much appreciated.”
“Hey, Verity?” Gregory asked, feeling slightly hesitant with his sudden plans for the evening. “Does Landon know you called me?”
“I didn’t implicitly tell him that I was going to, but I’ll make sure he knows that I have if it would make you feel better.”
“I just, I don’t want to start anything off with secrets.” Gregory closed his eyes, feeling like a child for assuming this could be the start of anything beyond closure.
“That’s…commendable,” Verity mused. “Well, I won’t keep you; you said you had plans. I do appreciate you talking with me though, and hopefully I’ll see you later tonight.”
“Right,” he confirmed.
Verity chuckled. “Goodbye, Gregory.”
Then the call disconnected.
Gregory dropped his phone onto the bed and stared at the blank screen. He felt a small flare of hope spark inside his chest and he tried to squash it, unwilling to allow himself to truly hope for anything with Landon beyond a proper goodbye and, maybe, one more kiss.
He texted Aaron to apologize again, then stood and stuck his phone in his pocket and crossed the room to his dresser. He rested his hands on the top edge and lowered his forehead to the cool wood, rolling it back and forth. He felt unsteady and unsure—two feelings he’d always done his best to avoid
Gregory pulled open his sock drawer and looked inside, staring at the swirling patterns he kept in there. There was a lopsided stack of folded bandanas in the front corner of the drawer, and he rifled through to find a gray one that he shoved into his back left pocket. The pile toppled, dislodging an unused black leather collar from its hiding place.
With a sigh, Gregory shoved the collar back under the bandanas and pushed the drawer closed. His phone vibrated and he pulled it out, met with a scowling picture of Aaron and two empty Bloody Mary glasses.
He texted back to say he was coming before sticking his phone back into his pocket and grabbing his wallet and keys.
8
