Enzo rested his elbow on the bar, then propped his chin on his palm. When he first left Seven the protein shake, he’d thought of it as a peace offering. If Seven knew it was Enzo who’d left him that first gift, he hadn’t said so. But he’d smiled just a little when he’d looked at it. That small flash of teeth was enough for Enzo to do it again and again. Enzo was addicted to the tiny smile that would appear for a split second each time Seven found a new gift. The way he’d glance into Enzo’s office for just a moment. He lived for those few seconds when he had Seven’s undivided attention.
“Level with me,” he pleaded. “Has he…gone downstairs with anyone?”
While the upstairs looked like any other club uptown, downstairs was what separated Lost Eden from any other club in the state. The playrooms. Below Enzo’s feet sat twelve fully stocked rooms with anything two—or more—consenting adults might need to satisfy their desires. There were things so niche even Enzo couldn’t name them, and things so well-loved Vince had a stockroom full of replacements at the ready.
“That’s his business,” Vince said sharply, shutting him down. “If you want to know so badly, be a man and ask him.”
“Yes, ‘cause men are known for their stellar communication skills,” Enzo muttered. After a moment, he asked, “Did he at least say if he liked my presents?”
His brother huffed out a humorless laugh. “Of course, he likes them. He likesyou. He wantsyou. You’re the one who keeps getting in your own way. Do you think he would be here, trying so hard to learn about somethingyoulike—a subject now tied to a really shitty memory for him—if he didn’t like you?”
Enzo cut his eyes to his brother. “Are you claiming he came here for me?”
“Yes. He came here for you. The first night, he even took notes.”
Enzo blinked at him stupidly. “Notes?”
“Yep. He brought a tablet. He wanted to make sure he didn’t miss anything. He probably would have recorded me if it hadn’t been so loud. He isn’t here looking for a dom. He’s here to figure out whether he likes this enough to put up with your…special interests. If you get your shit together, that is.”
Enzo shook his head, like his subconscious couldn’t even fathom a world where that scenario was true. Why would Seven do that for him after what Enzo had done to him? After he’d misread the situation so badly?
Seven and the man stood, hugging tightly. Enzo sat up straighter, hands closing into fists. But before he could get too upset, the man waved and walked away. Seven waved back, but didn’t return to his seat. Instead, he turned towards them and began walking in their direction. Was he coming to talk to him?
Enzo’s heart raced as Seven approached, unsure what it was he planned to say. But Seven wasn’t coming to him. He walked right past him like he wasn’t even there, heading towards the restrooms. Fuck. He was on his feet before he could talk himself out of it, following Seven towards the bathroom.
“This is a new low even for you,” Vince called after him.
Enzo didn’t answer, just gave him the finger over his shoulder. He had no idea what he’d say to Seven once he got there, but he just wanted to set the record straight. Whatever that meant. He flung the door open…and ran right into Seven, who was not, in fact, using the restroom, but standing just inside the doorway, arms crossed over his chest, brow raised expectantly.
“What took you so long?” he asked, his tone as flat as his tight-lipped expression.
“What?”
Smooth, dumbass.
“I knew you wouldn’t be able to resist following me in here,” he said, his irritation causing a flush to creep up Enzo’s neck.
“You…wanted me to follow you?” he asked, his heart doing a little leap behind his ribs.
Seven scoffed. “I didn’t say I wanted you to follow me in here; I said I knew you would. But since you did, stop staring at me like a creeper every time we happen to be here at the same time.”
“Why? Am I cramping your style?” Enzo asked, voice sullen.
“Because it’s creepy, as previously mentioned.”
Enzo nodded. “Was that guy your…dom?”
Seven’s eyes went wide. “My…” He blew out an exasperated breath. “That’s none of your business.”
“I know,” Enzo fired back. “I know it’s not. It doesn’t mean I don’t want to know.”
Nobody had ever made him feel this crazy, this childish, this…discombobulated. Not even her.
Seven’s expression softened just a little as he shook his head. “I really don’t get you at all.”
Enzo sighed. “Join the club.”
The door started to open, but Enzo slammed it shut again. “Occupied.”
