Chapter Thirty
Illias
“I cried unto him with my mouth, and he was extolled with my tongue.”
- Psalms 66:17 KJV
Closing time couldn’t come fast enough. Illias bounced between minor closing tasks to speed the process along later and taking care of customers. Cantrell included. He tried to insist that Illias focus on others, but Illias still made sure to check in from time to time throughout the night, making sure not to give off the impression he was playing favorites or showing special attention to the priest. Though, it was rather difficult when Cantrell kept doing little things that drove Illias crazy. The first thing Cantrell did was roll up his sleeves. Next, he unbuttoned the top two buttons of his shirt under the guise of it being exceptionally warm inside the bar. Then the texts started. Sporadically, Illias would feel his phone buzz in his backpocket and—against his better judgement—he would check the messages.
“Unknown”
Would you happen to have any rope, pup? I’ve been thinking of tying you up and teaching you the meaning of restraint.
Illias quickly shoved his phone into his back pocket at the sound of his name being called. Putting on his game face, he walked over to the man trying to get his attention. “Can I get another?” the man asked, sliding his empty pint over to Illias.
“Of course,” Illias said, grabbing the glass from the counter, “coming right up.”
He turned on his heel and stepped up to the beer taps to pull the House IPA the man had been drinking all night. Jasmine slid in next to Illias, slotting a pint of her own beneath one of the more expensive beers they have on tap. “I’ve never seen someone chase ass so hard yet go absolutely nowhere.”
Illias blinked, eyebrows drawing together. “Huh?”
“You and House IPA,” she said, looking at him oddly. “The dude you’ve been flirting with all night. Silver fox, super jacked, and...” she glanced over their shoulders, “...totally checking out your ass right now.”
“Oh.” Illias shrugged. “I’m just doing it for the tip. I’m not actually interested.”
“Yeah sure, and I’m the queen of England,” she scoffed, rolling her eyes.
“I’m not,” he insisted, pushing the tab back into place right as the beer reached the edge of the glass. “Besides,” he said, noticing Cantrell holding up two fingers, “I’m seeing someone.”
“Shut up!” she hissed. “You? Seeing someone? Who?”
“That’s none of your business,” he huffed, and went to deliver the drink he had already taken too long with.
She gaped at him, then threw her hands in the air. “You can’t just drop a bomb like that and say it’s none of my business!”
Heflickedflipped her off behind his back while he sat the drink on the counter. The man thanked him and he smiled politely, then excused himself to take care of others. Illias went over to Cantrell’s part of the bar, picked up the empty glass, and wiped the condensation ring off the counter. “Five minutes, meet me outside,” Cantrell whispered, then left the counter without giving Illias time to respond.
Illias’ heart hammered in his chest. He ran through all the reasons why Cantrell might want to see him outside. Positives and negatives swirled together in a cocktail that kept Illias’ eyes glued to the ticking hands of the clock. Five minutes took an eternity to pass, but once they did, Illias didn’t hesitate. He tossed his bar rag at Jasmine’s head, causing her to glare at him. He signaled he was taking his fifteen then dipped out from behind the bar.
Muggy night heat clung to him the minute he stepped out of the air-conditioned building. Illias spotted Cantrell across the parking lot, partially hidden in the shadows between cars. Illias tossed a cautionary glance over his shoulder, noting that no one else was outside for the time being. Careful not to touch the car opposite Cantrell’s, Illias shuffled into the thin space.
Cantrell provided no warning before he grabbed Illias, pulling him in for a harsh kiss. Illias braced himself against Cantrell’s chest. Curled his fingers into the fabric of the shirt beneath his palms. Cantrell’s hands grabbed Illias’ hips, guiding him closer, then slotted a leg between his thighs. Illias groaned into the kiss then pulled away, breathless and hotter than when he walked out. “Not that I’m complaining, but we are in the parking lot where anyone can see us,” he said, trying to sound cheeky despite the tightness of his voice.
“I have spent the entire night watching you flaunt yourself in front of other men like you didn’t belong to me.” Cantrell yanked Illias’ hips forward so that he pressed flush against the thigh between his own. “I don’t care,” Cantrell began, peppering kisses along Illias’ neck, “if they see. Let them watch.”
Illias bit back the moan threatening to slip. “As much as I want to, and believe me I do, are you sure?” He forced himself to lean away from Cantrell to create some distance. “When you called earlier, you soundedscaredthat Rier might know. I just—I don’t want you to make a mistake that you’ll regret.”
He waited for Cantrell to tell him that he was right, and they should part ways before the wrong person saw them. Destroyed their delicately kept secret. Tore them apart before they were ready, before he was ready.
Cantrell brought a hand up to Illias’ cheek and stroked it. “Nothing I do with you is a mistake,” he assured.
Illias placed a hand over Cantrell’s, stilling his movements. “But if someone sees,” he reminded, removing the hand from his cheek and lowering it between them, “you could lose everything.” His chest constricted. “And I can’t ask you to risk that for me.”
“You don’t have to ask,” Cantrell said, shifting his hand to interlace their fingers, “I’ve already made that decision.”
Illias didn’t know what else to say so he kissed Cantrell. Pressed as close as he physically could, hoping that Cantrell knew what Illias couldn’t yet say. Praying he felt the same. Illias wished he could change their situation. Promise Cantrell that he didn’t have to worry, that everything would be okay. But Illias couldn’t. They would always have to sneak around and hide and pretend like they were nothing to each other. Illias would always have to act like it didn’t hurt when Cantrell barely acknowledged him in passing. Like it didn’t slice through his heart every timethey shared these moments, knowing they would never be more than the weak promises they whispered to one another.
Head growing light, Illias pulled back from the kiss. “I need you,” he said simply.
