“I’m not.” That response sounded weak even to his ears, and from Gideon’s skeptical expression, Adam didn’t fool the man.
“Say what you want, but you’re talking to the master evader right here. The reason Rico and I are so close is that we’re so alike, or at least we were when it came to relationships. We were both convinced we didn’t need anyone in our lives and that work would be enough.”
Thinking of himself the past few years, Adam responded, “Sometimes it is.”
“Nah, man, that’s bullshit.” Gideon relaxed back in his chair and gazed out the window for a moment. “A few years ago I might’ve agreed with you. You get the deal or the job, go to a bar or a club, get drunk, and find someone to fuck. Then what? You wake up the next day and do it all over again. And again. It’s tiresome, pointless, and eventually not enough.”
For Adam it had been. Until Rico had messed with his head. And his heart.
“I’m glad Rico has such a good friend in you but the truth is, it was never going to work. I went into it with the same expectations he did, only I let myself get fooled into thinking maybe there was something more. And who the hell knows? I could be fooling myself and it could all be exactly what it looks like—the two of us having a good time. No strings.”
The phone on the desk buzzed, but Gideon ignored it. “I would agree with you if I didn’t see it with my own eyes. Rico cares. More than he even realizes, that’s what’s frustrating him. He has a lot of shit in his head he needs to work through, so all I’m asking is that you don’t give up on him, because he’s worth waiting for.”
“I don’t suppose you’d care to share what it is? I’d like to help him if I could.”
Regret clouded Gideon’s eyes. “Not my story to tell.”
Adam could respect that. A knock sounded on the door.
“Come in.” Gideon didn’t break eye contact with him.
“Hey, man, I’ve got those…” Rico stepped into the room, his olive complexion washing pale as their eyes met. A flutter of nerves mixed with desire raced through Adam.
“Hi.” His gaze roamed over Rico, hungrily taking in the fit, muscular body he knew so well, although lines of strain scored his face.
“Hi.” Dark and guarded, Rico leaned against the doorframe.
“Hey. Gideon and I were talking while Sean got my food ready.”
“That’s nice.” Rico shifted his attention to Gideon, who watched them both with a frown. “When you’re ready to talk, I’ll be in my office.”
“I’m leaving.” Adam stood, knowing there was little reason for him to stay. Whatever shit Rico had going on in his head, he wasn’t about to make Adam privy to it, and Adam was not about to grovel or be pitied. He got along fine before Rico, and it might take some time to forget him, but he’d be okay. Gideon was a good friend, but no one would stick around for a person who made it as obvious as Rico did that he’d shut the door and moved on.
“Adam, wait.” Gideon stood as well.
But he was already out the door and didn’t stop. What for? Rico’s body language had told him everything he needed to know. Sean gave him an apologetic smile. “Sorry I didn’t get to bring you a plate. We got busy out front.”
“No worries.”
“It’ll only take a sec for me to get it ready for you.” Sean put the food in a take-out container and bagged it.
Adam paid, took his food and walked out, then headed toward the train to go home. What he should do is get some sleep, eat, and then hit up a bar or club tonight. He hadn’t been out in…forever. But even as he thought about it, a sickening dread ran through him. The idea of going out and meeting some random person, dancing around the “will we or won’t we end up having sex” seemed so pointless. Especially since he had little desire to do it.
But by the time he got home, he’d talked himself into making the effort; perhaps it was the blank walls mocking him or knowing that Rico had so easily cut him out of his life. A few hours of sleep and some dinner later, Adam showered and dressed, all without stopping to take too much time to think. His black jeans fit snug, and his tight gray T-shirt showed off the tattoos on his arms he knew would bring him attention. For some reason, guys loved a redhead with tats. Pocketing his keys and cell phone, he headed out, grateful the weather remained warm enough in the evenings now to forgo wearing a jacket.
He took the train into the city and decided to hit up a club in Chelsea he’d heard about online. The bar was packed, but he managed to find a space to angle himself into and order a beer.
“Nice tats. And the arms that go with them aren’t bad either.” A cool hand slid over his bicep and squeezed.
Amused, Adam took a drink of his beer before answering the guy. Not his usual type, with the designer clothes and perfectly sculpted hair, but maybe that’s what he needed. A total change of scenery, so to speak.
“Glad you like it.”
“I like you.” A long finger traced the fire truck inked on his arm. Funny how whenever Rico touched him, his skin burned. This guy? Nothing. But still Adam forced himself and smiled into the man’s striking pale-blue eyes.
“Are you a fireman?”
At Adam’s nod, the guy’s eyes widened and his lips parted. “I think a man in uniform is so fucking sexy.” He fluttered his lashes. “I’d do anything for him.” He licked his lips, and Adam followed the sweep of his pink tongue, unconsciously leaning forward until their faces were only inches apart and he could smell the gin on the man’s breath. “Anything.”
