CHAPTER SIX
Vahin Arora
A shot of excitement rushed through Vahin as his phone vibrated in his pocket. Leaning back in the car seat, still keeping his eyes on the road, he pulled it out, then paused before allowing himself to look at the screen. He needed to get hold of himself. He wasn’t a kid. He wasn’t a romantic. He wasn’t desperate. He wasn’t, really.
Shame licked at him as he continued to keep his gaze from the phone. If he wasn’t desperate, he was playing the part like he was up for an Oscar. It had been forgivable after he got off work the night before to text Marlon and see if he wanted to come over. His disappointment at Marlon’s excuse was almost as understandable. What wasn’t forgivable was him texting Marlon again this morning, and that he’d constantly checked his cell since he’d sent the text. He’d barely been able to get through each set of reps at the gym without checking the damn thing.
And now, here he was, driving to work and short of breath because he was worried Marlon was saying no again. He deserved to swerve and slam into a stop sign. It probably wasn’t even Marlon.
Vahin started to place the phone on the empty passenger seat, forcing himself to wait like a sane person. He couldn’t do it. With a final glance to make sure he wasn’t accidentally driving into the back of an SUV, he held the phone in front of the steering wheel and swiped his thumb across the screen.
His heart leapt. Marlon.
Sorry. Can’t do tonight either. Sick. Even calling off work. Might be a couple days before I feel up to going out again. Sorry.
Yeah. Sorry.
Vahin was the one who should be sorry. He knew better. Knew better than to get his hopes up. Knew better than to initiate so much contact. Knew better than to allow himself to have feelings for a closeted guy, even one who would get shirtless with drag queens.
He knew better.
“Dude, romance troubles already?”
“Huh?” Vahin spared a glance toward Steven, then returned his attention to the Moscow Mule he was making.
“Exactly.” Steven leaned against the inside of the bar, angling his face toward Vahin and away from the customers. “That’s what I mean. You normally don’t miss a beat, and you’ve been distracted and a million miles away all evening.”
Vahin finished pouring the ginger beer into the concoction, feeling his temper rise. “Not doing a good enough job for you, Steven? Maybe I should take the night off and let Alex handle it all.”
Steven flinched and lifted his hands in surrender. “Whoa, man. That’s what I’m talking about. You’re on edge. And you know I wasn’t saying that, so cut the shit.”
Sticking in a stirring rod, Vahin let out a breath, forced a smile, and slid the drink to a hipster a few spots down. “Here you go, buddy. Enjoy!”
The man nodded, but Vahin had already turned back to Steven. “Sorry. Yeah. I’m on edge.”
“Got that.” Steven stayed in his place against the bar. Behind him, ManDonna and Ariel were raising catcalls from the diners. Steven snapped his fingers toward Vahin’s face. “Hello in there.”
“I hate it when you do that.”
Steven grinned. “I know. Now talk to me.”
Vahin considered walking away. It felt stupid, ridiculous.Hefelt stupid and ridiculous. He glared at Steven. “Fine, but if you call me a lovestruck twelve-year-old, I’m punching you in the face, quitting, and taking the Mary statue on my way out.”
“Lots of stealing threats lately.” Another grin. “Duly noted.”
“Okay, well, here’s the deal.” Vahin glanced around, as if everyone in the entire restaurant was listening. They weren’t, of course. The only person looking at him was a hot ginger guy at the end of the bar who probably just wanted a drink. Hopefully Alex would get to him soon. He refocused on Steven. “So Marlon and I had an amazing two nights, especially the second one, when he wasn’t trashed and on the edge of throwing up. Amazing, Steven. Like crazy-hot sex and a bunch ofmaybe he’s the onefeelings and shit, you know?”
Steven’s brows popped up, but he didn’t verbalize his surprise.
“So then after I leave here last night, I texted, expecting that he’d want to get together.” He held up a hand. “I know. Needy. Shut up.” Vahin focused on Steven’s shirt collar, unable to meet his eyes any longer. “He texted back that he’d had a long day at work and needed sleep. Then today, after I text him again—like a fucking loser—he says he’s calling in sick to work, and that it might be a few days before he’ll be able to get together again.” Vahin finished in a rush and glanced back at Steven’s eyes.
“Sounds like he wants to get together again, at least.” There was a question in Steven’s tone that belied the confidence in his words.
“No. It was a brush-off. Easy and clear.”
Steven reached out and touched Vahin’s arm. “It was all through text. Maybe you missed the context or something. I think you might be jumping to conclusions. You were excited about it, and now you’re freaking out because you’re worried you imagined it all.”
Yep. That was it. Vahin had been wondering that exact thing all day. How he must have projected the feelings he’d thought he was seeing in Marlon’s eyes, feeling in his kisses and touch. “No, I’m being insane. I’m a thirty-five-year-old who’s acting like he’s in middle school. It’s gross and pathetic and a good reminder of why I don’t do this shit.”
