Royce gripped Cosmo’s elbow. “Are you okay?”
“No. I’m not.” Cosmo pushed past empty glasses for a napkin. He pressed it to his eyes. “I’m so sick of the jealousy and possessiveness. I just wanted love.”
Royce’s coffee liqueur breath tickled his ear. “A gorgeous thing like you should have all the love he wants.”
Cosmo pounded the bar. “Damn right.”
“Someone needs to give it to you.”
“Zedd scares all the good ones away.”
Royce’s arm slid around Cosmo’s back, the overpowering scent of his aftershave lingering. “He doesn’t scare me.” Lips pressed against Cosmo’s neck, and he pulled in a sharp breath. They slid across his throat, sucking at his skin.
Cosmo pulled away and gripped the bar. “Royce, what are you doing?”
“Giving you what you want.”
“No. I’m not into it.”
“I think you are. Otherwise you wouldn’t be getting drunk with me and moaning when I kiss you.” He nibbled Cosmo’s jaw and squeezed his upper thigh, dangerously close to his groin.
Micah was right.
He pushed at Royce, but couldn’t extract himself. “Stop! This is a misunderstanding.” And he needed to leave, but he wasn’t sure he could stand up on his own. He waved his hand, trying to flag down the bartender, but the man ignored him.
Micah was right.
“What’s to misunderstand? You want love,” Royce purred. “You want someone who isn’t afraid of Zedd. I’m right here, beautiful. I’ve been here for years. Seeing your heartbreak and pain over people who use you and throw you away. I won’t. You know me better than that.”
Micah was right.Cosmo was in danger, and he should have listened. Should have left with sweet, kind Micah to go eat ice cream. “No, Royce. You need to stop!”
He gripped Cosmo’s jaw hard and kissed the side of his mouth.
“What the fuck is this!” A familiar voice cut between them. “You get your filthy, gnarled meathooks off of him, you petrified piece of shit.”
Cosmo turned to look his savior in the face, but his stool wobbled and he flailed for purchase. Acrylic nails dug into his arm, and he was pulled to his feet. Royce growled something indecipherable.
Light florals floated around the woman clutching him, and her hair tickled his cheek. But it couldn’t be Déjà; she’d pickedup the pieces of Cosmo too many times already. That’s why they weren’t friends anymore.
She unslung a backpack and rooted inside. “You take one step toward him and I will unload an entire can of mace on you.”
Someone else shouted – maybe the bartender – then Cosmo was hauled out the entrance. He staggered onto the sidewalk and rubbed his eyes. Neon light striped Déjà’s oversized sunglasses, and her hair was pinned back with sparkly clips shaped like jack-o’-lanterns.
A noise escaped his throat. It really was her. He’d meant to talk to her at that party in August, but she left before he’d had the chance. How did she know he needed her now more than ever?
“Thank you.” He threw his arms around her. “Thank you.”
“We need to go somewhere else. Do you still live in Climbing Ivy?”
“Yes.” Cosmo kept hold of her, his best friend, his anchor. Always his anchor, but he’d drifted away and crashed against the rocks a long time ago. “How did you know I was here?”
“Micah called me.” Her heels clacked against the sidewalk. “He was completely distraught.”
Cosmo stumbled, the sidewalk a wobbly blur. Oh, Micah. “I – I didn’t want Royce to do that.”
“I know. And that bartender didn’t care at all.” She slowed and looked over her shoulder, then urged him on. “It wasn’t your fault.”
Itwashis fault. And even if Micah had called and begged, why would Déjà want to be involved in this mess? God, how he missed her. Every thought for her, every ache, was held back by the thinnest of dams, but he didn’t know what to say. Whatcouldhe say? Too much time had passed. Their wounds had festered and necrotized, and Cosmo didn’t know how to heal that.
