Theron
As much as I told myself I’d come to The Lodge to support a friend as he expanded his business, I was starting to wonder if my true motivation was that I had a masochistic streak.After the school year, I’d told myself every time I’d grown restless. Once I had my next contract in hand, then I would be able to pursue a relationship. While administration hadn’t specifically said anything about the openly gay principal, there were limits to their reluctant acceptance. Learning that the man they counted on to keep hundreds of kids in line every day longed to be called Daddy would definitely cross the line.
I’d have been fine, if not for Sam. He’d caught my eye as soon as I’d entered the bar. When William was introducing him to the night’s guests, he looked ready to cry. Sam was a boy who didn’t deal well with being the center of attention. After he’d opened the playroom, I’d hung back, never letting him escape my attention.
That probably made me a stalker, but I couldn’t help it. He was adorable. I wanted to pull him into my lap and hug him until he relaxed. When I caught up with him picking up stray toys, I’d seen an opening and I took it.
“The important thing to remember,” William said, his gaze drifting over the men he assumed identified as Daddies. “Is thatnothingis set in stone. Sometimes you’ll meet a boy who knows exactly what he wants, but that doesn’t invalidate his ability to change his mind.”
If there was a single man in the room who didn’t understand that fact, he had no right calling himself a Daddy. Still, when you had people who were new to the lifestyle, these were things that needed to be said—which was part of why The Lodge had earned a reputation as one of the best clubs in the region.
Sam squirmed next to me. I balled my hands into fists at my sides to keep from reaching out to him. When he didn’t think anyone was watching, he allowed his carefully polished veneer to fall away a bit. The longer I stood next to him, the harder it got to keep from touching him. I wanted to pull his thumb away from his mouth when he started biting the corner of his nail and massage his shoulders, which were still far too tense.
I needed to get a fucking grip. I’d have thought it was time to head across town and find some sweet, vanilla guy to fuck, but I’d spent the past six months doing that. What I needed went deeper than sex.
No one noticed me sneaking out of the playroom. There was only so much self-flagellation I could handle for one night. I had a minor what-the-fuck moment when I made my way to the bar and saw Doug busy slinging drinks.
“You lost?” I asked the next time he passed. I was used to seeing him at Club 83, the bar run by one of his partners. I wasn’t sure I’d ever seen him behind the bar, though.
“Just helping for the night,” he told me as he poured two pints. “Give me a minute to deliver these.” When he returned, he pulled a towel out of his back pocket and wiped the sweat from his brow. “What’ll you have tonight?”
If I was seriously considering trying to find a boy—even if only for the night—I couldn’t drink. It wasn’t strictly forbidden in this part of the bar, but I didn’t mix alcohol with kink. Ever. I’d seen enough situations go south when one or more parties were just tipsy enough to misunderstand what they thought others were saying.
Who was I kidding? A night like tonight wasn’t going to get me what I wanted. There was only one boy in that playroom who caught my eye, and he was either oblivious or my flirting skills were rusty as hell. Besides, he struck me as the type who’d be reluctant to do anything with someone he met at work.
That was fine. I could be a patient man when the reward was worth the effort. And he would be. Sam might not have recognized me, but I sure as hell knew him. The first time I’d noticed him, he’d been toe-to-toe with a drunk who wanted to get into the back room. He’d been scared, but did a good job masking his fear. That was probably a skill he’d had to hone through his teenage years. He was smaller than average and looked like the type who’d be easy to pick on.
You had to look closely to see his strength. It showed in his steely gaze when he was pissed off and the carefully chosen words when he spoke.
“Hey, you want something or not?” Doug reached over the bar and gave my shoulder a playful shove.
Shit. There I went daydreaming about the boy I couldn’t have again. “Whatever’s good on tap.”
“Want to talk about it?” Doug asked when he slid my pint across the bar. I chuckled because it was strange to see him on the other side of the bar. We weren’t buddies, but more than once we’d chatted while he watched his partners work.
Maybe I should talk about it. And talking to Doug was safer than admitting I had a crush to my usual drinking buddy. Tom was a good guy, but if he knew I was thinking about putting myself out there again, he’d get pushy.
“How much do you know about Sam?”
“Not much,” Doug admitted. “Jack says he’s the best thing to happen to this place. And he’s put up with more of my brother’s shit than most people would.”
I cocked my head to the side while I tried figuring out the connection there.
“Jack’s my brother,” Doug offered. That made sense. “Anyway, I can’t think of many employees who wouldn’t get pissed about the boss taking off during a huge opening like this, but Sam was adamant that Jack work on his own shit and that he’d make sure things went smoothly here. Then again, that was foolish on his part because he’s been running himself into the ground. He needs someone to force him to slow down or he’s going to burn out before he graduates college.”
Fuck. I knew Sam was young, but I wasn’t sure I was up for someone who hadn’t even started living yet. And I knew perfectly well that saying something like that would piss off most college kids, but it was the truth. He was still at the age where he thought he was grown up and knew what he wanted, but I’d been around long enough to know that what people wanted in their early twenties was rarely the same as when they’d had time to get to know themselves.
“Single?” The question was out before I could stop myself. So much for not being interested in someone that much younger than me.
“As far as I know.” Doug looked past me, as if trying to catch a glimpse of Sam. He rubbed a hand over his closely trimmed beard. “But, then again, I don’t make a point of gossiping about people’s love lives with my brother. You should talk to Sam if you want to get to know him.”
“Gee, if only I’d thought of that,” I quipped, thumping my palm against my forehead. “Best case, he’s too busy to chat, worst, he’s icing me out.”
“Then try again when he’s not dealing with all this shit,” Doug suggested, his gaze roaming over the crowded bar. “Now, I need to get back to it. Jack owes me big for stepping in tonight.”
“Thanks.” I spun around on my stool, leaning back as I rested my elbows on the edge of the bar. Watching. That was safe enough.
I felt old. Even the Daddies looked like babies for the most part. That was possibly due to the fact our area was getting a reputation as being a gay-friendly city for people of all ages, but it could just as easily be that I was getting old. Most of the friends I used to hang out with were now settled and not into the bar scene. Hell, even Tom had found himself a boy—the lucky sonuvabitch. Maybe I should have asked if they wanted to come out with me tonight, but they were still in the sickeningly sweet phase of their relationship.
