Shocking tears burned his eyes.
Don’t go there.
Hayden huffed out a sigh. “Yes, Mother.” For Hayden, anonymous sex had been the catalyst for all his troubles, but her advice made sense. Forgetting his problems for one night couldn’t hurt.
“I’ve got to go, but I’ll have something for you later this afternoon. Talk to you then.”
“Bye.”
He set the phone aside. Maybe she was right. The past week he’d been going double time, especially after Boris had left unexpectedly. He’d gotten to the office at seven in the morning and hadn’t left until nine, nine thirty at night. By the time he walked into his apartment, he was too tired to do anything but shower and sleep. He yawned, and even with all the turmoil swirling around him, his lids grew heavy. He hadn’t taken a nap during the day since he was five. His eyes fluttered shut.
**
He awoke with a start, to darkness. “What the hell?” The phone screen showed it was eight thirty in the evening. “I slept over nine hours?” He sat up and rubbed his face. “Damn. I can’t remember the last time I had uninterrupted sleep for that long.” Stretching, he winced from his cramped limbs. The couch might be comfortable, but not for his six-foot-two frame to sleep on.
And now, of course he was wide awake and hungry. With nothing in the apartment, he could order in and spend the night looking for jobs online. He scrolled through his email and found one from Janice.
I have several prospects for you, but I’m going to keep them for tomorrow. Like I said, I want you to forget about it for the night. Call me in the morning.
Amused and annoyed, Hayden grunted and tossed the phone aside. His stomach growled. Loudly. He could say he went to a club and picked up a guy but dismissed that automatically. Janice was a bloodhound and would somehow discover he’d lied to her, and that would break the trust between them.
Besides, what could it hurt? Instead of showing up at his usual hour of eleven, finding someone and getting off in a hurry, maybe he could take his time and enjoy the ride.
So to speak.
Gazing at his clothes, he wrinkled his nose at their sorry state. Scrunched up and messy wasn’t how he presented himself, either in the office or when out on the prowl. He ordered sushi from a place two doors down from his building, knowing they delivered in less than fifteen minutes. Food, like sex, didn’t mean much to him—it was a means to an end, and he ate, anticipating the night ahead. Now that he’d decided onhis course for the evening, it was all he could think about. Anticipation flooded his veins. Damn, he was half-hard already.
He took a shower, and feeling more human, surveyed himself in the mirror:
Slim-fitting jeans that emphasized his ass. A green, sleeveless shirt that showcased his tats and biceps while also enhancing the glow of emerald eyes. His blond hair was the proper mix of messy and well-kept, and he fluffed the top with his fingers one more time before taking the clippers and trimming his stubble. One final look, then he grabbed a condom and a travel pack of lube and shoved them into his crossbody bag.
The night was warm and breezy, and Hayden decided to stay within a three-block radius of his apartment instead of wasting time and money on a car to sit in traffic for a club downtown. He stopped on 77th Street in front of The Vibe, a brand-new club he’d walked past and had been meaning to check out. Now he had all the time in the world.
The guy at the door, a six-foot-four hulk dressed in black, gave him a lingering once-over that told Hayden if he struck out in the club, he’d hit a home run outside.
The space was packed, and Hayden waited a moment for his eyes to adjust. Colored lights played over the small dance floor, and he wriggled his way through the crowd to the bar, where he ordered a Tito’s and soda and stood surveying the crowd. The scent of sweaty bodies, cologne, and a faint whiff of weed surrounded him, a heady cocktail he greedily inhaled. So many choices. For the night, he allowed the problems in his life to sit by the wayside. No more worrying about Boris and the schedule of medications he needed to take. Instead of Kunoff Shipping being the main focus of his life, he concentrated on Hayden Porter. He’d think about his bank account tomorrow. His first drink finished, he decided to be reckless and ordered a second.Coupled with the wine he’d already had with his sushi, he felt loose and ready for someone to touch him. He deserved one night to go wild.
“Hey, watch what you’re doing,” an annoyed voice exploded to his right. “You spilled your fucking drink all over me. What the hell is wrong with you?”
“I-I’m sorry,” another guy replied. “I didn’t mean to. It was an accident.”
Always one for a little drama, Hayden finished his drink and watched the scene unfold. The angry guy was in his late twenties, tall and skinny, covered in tattoos, and wearing a mesh shirt. A blond poof of hair was swept high on top and shaved close on the sides. Small eyes narrowed with disdain, and his lips pressed thin with an arrogant twist. In contrast, the man he’d lambasted was older, around Hayden’s age, and dressed in a suit and tie. Dark hair framed a sweet, gentle face. Big eyes gazed up, wide and slightly frightened. Not the type he normally saw at a wild club like this.
“I don’t give a shit if it was an accident. I’m wet now, and I smell like beer. Goddamn idiot.”
Hayden moved closer. He didn’t normally get involved, but seeing someone bullied wasn’t fun, and he waited to make sure it didn’t escalate.
The man on the receiving end looked as if he were about to burst into tears. “I’m sorry.” He pulled out his wallet and handed the man a twenty-dollar bill. “Here. For dry cleaning.”
The nasty prick took it, and without even a thank-you, stalked away and disappeared into the crowd. Mr. Out-of-Place sat hunched over the bar, and Hayden slipped into the vacated spot.
“That was nice of you.”
The man shrugged and kept his head down. “I just wanted him to stop yelling at me.” He pushed away the empty glass in front of him. “It wasn’t my fault. It’s so crowded, and when I picked up my drink, it spilled on his shirt.” He raised his gaze to meet Hayden’s. “He was rude for no reason. It wasn’t nice.”
Were those actual tears glistening in those clear blue eyes? A soft heart and deep conversation were the furthest thing from Hayden’s mind at a club. Especially tonight. All he wanted was to forget losing his job and the tightrope he now had to maneuver. What could possibly be the reason for putting a hand on the man’s shoulder and smiling at him? Must be the alcohol swimming in his blood that made Hayden aware of the sprinkling of freckles across the bridge of the man’s nose, his soft full lips, and the dimples in the crease of his cheek.
“I’m Hayden. How about I buy you another?”
