What the actual fuck? Jasper pulled his phone away and squinted at the time. Almost one in the morning. “Are you fucking drunk?”
“Lil bit.”
Jasper rubbed his eyes, listening to the loud music and conversation in the background. A club or bar most likely. Shayne was always doing gigs in one or the other. Which had been hot at the time. Everyone fantasized about banging a guitarist, right? But no one ever warned him about the whole “musicians love their music more than anything and are always emotionally unavailable” bullshit. The whole attempted drugging so Shayne could share him with some “friends” was the cherry on the shit sundae, and a few hundred miles past his tolerance point.
“Can I see you?”
Jasper would have laughed if it hadn’t been so messed up. “No. And don’t call me again, you absolute cunt.” He hung up as Shayne started to say something, groaned, and flopped back on the sofa. When Vincent cleared his throat, Jasper realized he’d been there the entire time.
Shit.
He dragged himself into a sitting position and looked up.
“We can leave now,” Vincent said.
Oh, thank gods.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
VINCENT GRABBEDhis suit jacket and locked up his office.
Jasper’s annoyance as they headed out of the club was as tangible as water, roiling off him in waves.
Considering how this weekend had started, Vincent couldn’t say he was surprised by the arrival of a new problem. That didn’t mean he wasn’t curious about the phone call. And he apparently wasn’t worn out enough to keep his mouth shut and let it go for now. “Friend of yours?” he asked, once they were settled in the back of the car.
“No,” Jasper replied tightly, slumping into the seat.
Vincent stifled a sigh and let Jasper brood in silence for a few minutes. Once they were on the highway, he tried again. “Ex, then?” he guessed, staring out his window. “Do you want me to make his life a living hell?” He watched the reflection of Jasper’s head turn quickly and fought back a snicker. At least that got a reaction.
“What? No. I don’t want anything to do with him anymore,” Jasper muttered, sighing as he crossed his arms and slumped even more.
So it was an ex. Vincent turned enough to study Jasper directly.
“What?” Jasper asked, voice sharp. “Sir,” he added, like it was a challenge. He glared hard enough Vincent expected his eyes to pop out. He pressed his lips into a thin line, but the silent “Fuck off” was clear.
“You have thirty seconds to convince me not to cancel this weekend.”
Jasper somehow glared harder. A few seconds before Vincent’s mental countdown ended, he finally turned away and spoke. “I don’t want to talk about someone who used to fuck me with the guy who’s currently fucking me.”
“Okay,” Vincent replied slowly. That was fair. “So why are you pissed at me?”
“I’m not…,” Jasper started. He blinked and visibly deflated. “I’m not mad at you. I’m mad that he called me after four months to say he missed me.”
“And you don’t miss him?”
Jasper let out a sharp laugh. “He tried to roofie me, so no.”
Vincent bit back a snarl and a demand to know the bastard’s name. “I could still make his life hell, you know.”
Jasper snorted, the rest of the tension easing out of him. He slid across to the middle seat and leaned into Vincent’s side. “No, don’t bother. Please just take me home. I’ve been waiting to see you all week.”
Vincent sighed and forced his attention to where it belonged, resting a hand on Jasper’s thigh. “Because you want to get off?”
“No,” Jasper said, gnawing on Vincent’s arm. “Because I missed your winning personality, obviously.”
Vincent dug his fingers in with a long-suffering sigh, though he was too tired to make threats he had no intention of keeping. “Right back at you.”
Jasper grinned, lifting his leg to drape it over Vincent’s lap. He somehow pressed even closer and rested his head on Vincent’s shoulder.
