“All I want is for someone to love me back, like I love them.”
“And there’s your problem,” Wolf stated with a grimace. “You’re assuming every relationship is about love and permanency, that you have to fall in love with the man.”
“But that’s what I want. Chess asked me.” Defeated, he propped his chin in his hand. “I want to fall in love.”
“And how’s that worked out for you? Not so well.” Wolf, always honest to the point of being brutal, set his chopsticks on the plate and crossed his arms, giving him that penetrating stare he’d perfected. “Look, why not try something different? Go out, meet someone, and don’t think about anything except enjoying yourself. Stop planning for the future, and instead live in the present for a change.”
Chewing on his lower lip, he appealed to the others. “I’m assuming you all agree with Wolf?”
Uncharacteristically solemn, Spencer darted a quick glance over to Wolf, who met his eyes briefly before focusing on his empty plate. “I’m shocking myself even, but yeah. I have to agree with him.”
“Chess? You’re the only one with a long-term relationship. What do you have to say? You know you and André are my inspiration. You two have what I want in a relationship.”
“Listen to yourself.” Chess shook his head, impatience creeping into his voice. “You’re doing everything backward—relationship first, then discovering each other. And as far as André and I…make your own goals and stop looking to what other people have. You never know what goes on behind closed doors. It’s all hard work, even when it looks loving and easy from the outside. And no, that’s not a hint to anything about my relationship. All I’m saying is, if you find someone, that’s great, but until you do…yeah. I agree with Wolf. Date, be casual, have fun.”
***
A month later, he sat in the same place in his living room, mulling over those words from his friends. He’d gone out and flirted, but nothing had come of it. It was fine for Chess to tell him what to do, but he had a perfect man to come home to. And all Spencer had to do was snap his fingers, and guys came running. On his scroll through social media, Elliot saw him at some fashionista party every night, with gorgeous models cuddled up to him. And Wolf? Well, he had his work, and that seemed to be enough. Everyone had something, except him.
Time to make a change.
He grabbed his jacket and headed out the door.
At a bar in Bushwick, Elliot sat and nursed his beer, watching the scene in front of him, his body swaying to the pounding beat of the music.
A shoulder bumped his. “Sorry.” The large, red-haired man held up an empty bottle of Heineken. “I’m just trying to get another beer.”
“It’s okay. It’s crowded.”
“So…you won’t mind if I stay here and talk to you until Wally comes down this way?” His smile cut through the dim lighting, and Elliot saw the flex of muscles under the tight blue T-shirt that matched his eyes.
“Definitely not. I’m Elliot Hansen.”
“Brian Kelly.”
They shook hands, and Elliot didn’t think he’d imagined the lingering slide of Brian’s fingers against his. He swiveled his barstool to face the man.
“You here by yourself, Elliot?” Brian’s knee pressed to his. Elliot had never been with a redhead before; he wondered if the guy was freckled all over.
“Yeah. I didn’t feel like being alone tonight, so I figured I’d come here, listen to some music, have a few drinks.”
“And talk to me.” Brian’s jeans-clad leg slid between his knees, and Elliot swallowed. Brian was big, with solid, meaty shoulders and a broad chest. His muscular thighs were like tree trunks.
“Yeah,” Elliot said, trying not to sound as breathless as he felt. “Talk.”
“But with how long it’s taking to get a beer, maybe we could dance a little?”
Heart pounding, Elliot nodded. He didn’t need Dakota. Other guys found him attractive. Forgetting Wolf’s advice, Elliot imagined this could be the start of something new. With his hand in Brian’s, they walked to the dance floor, stopping only for a moment so Brian could talk to the DJ, who gave him a slow smile and a wink. The music slowed, and the lights turned red and pink.
“I asked him to slow it down and play something sexy.” Brian wrapped his big arms around him, and they started to sway. “You’re fucking hot. And you make me hot.”
Elliot let his head fall to Brian’s shoulder, let himself get swept away by the music. In the beginning, before he’d moved in, Dakota had romanced him with candles, sensuous music, and even full-body rubs with scented oils. That had led to passionate nights of sex, which Elliot had thought meant the start of a lifetime of love and friendship, only to end in a pile of burning ashes. Brian must feel the spark between them, if he wanted to slow-dance.
Brian kissed his cheek, and Elliot sighed.
“You like that, huh?” His warm lips moved lower on Elliot’s neck, the raspy scruff of his late-night beard wonderfully scratchy.
“Mmm. I like you.”
