It’s not exactly sassy, but there’s enough attitude in his voice that a surprised chuckle escapes me. “I guess I did.”
That should be my cue to go, but I know the second I do, the other men will descend on him. At least with me leaning close, no one will dare try to pick him up.
The idea makes me bristle.
“Was Mack gay?” Drew asks. “Or bi, I guess,” he says, glancing down at himself.
Smart kid. I’m not sure how he got that figured out so quick, but I know better than to try to hide the truth from him. “Bi, I guess,” I say. “I’m not sure what he would have said about himself. I guess whatever was going to serve him best that night.”
“Wow.” Drew rubs his forehead, his expression softening as he takes it in.
My hard edges melt a little, too. “If I’d realized you were gay, I might have told you earlier,” I say, another half attempt at an apology from a guy who never apologizes.
Drew looks up. He clears his throat, the sound washed away by the loud music.
“Were you in a relationship with him?” he asks.
I bristle. We weren’t in a relationship exactly because that wasn’t the kind of thing Mack did, or me either. But we were fucking, and I was stupid enough to fall for him, and how am I supposed to explain all of that to this kid in a noisy bar that smells like a gym?
But there’s more to my hesitation than that. It’s fucked up, wanting Mack’s son like I do. But at least as long as I haven’t admitted who his father was to me, Drew won’t know the full extent of it or figure out how messed up my lust for him is.
“Caesar?” a man barks, and when I turn, it’s Duke, an old client. He’s got a red face and a stout body, with a heavy chain hanging down his chest, and the way he wobbles, I can tell he’s wasted.
“Caesar, man!” Duke says, then clasps my shoulder as he turns to Drew. “You know this guy is my hero?” He lets go of me long enough to pull up the sleeve on his shirt, revealing his ink, a gorgeous and highly stylized truck with wheels of flames. “When my husband died, Caesar gave me his ride, totally free, man.”
“Okay,” I say, cutting him off and patting his back. “Good to see you, Duke.”
Duke gives us a sloppy smile. “A real hero,” he says, then winks at me. “Leave you two alone.”
I frown, irritated. When I gave him that ink, I told him to not go blabbing about doing it for free, but Duke doesn’t listen.
I turn back to the kid, who stares at me intently, his arms crossed. “Well?” he asks. “Were you in a relationship with Mack?”
I grunt. “It’s not smart to dig up the past too much,” I tell him. “We spent some nights together, but your old man didn’t do commitments. Leave it at that.”
Drew considers me. I feel bad anytime I don’t have a good answer for his questions, but this is different territory. He deserves to know about his old man, but he has no right to my private life, and I keep my business to myself.
I’ve given him all the confirmation he needs, though. And when our eyes meet again, I know that Drew sees how complicated this all is.
He chews on lip, and my other urges stir up, confusing the whole damn thing.
I can’t feel this way for Mack’s son. Hell, I don’t want to feel this way for anyone. I was damn happy on my own, before Drew showed up and refused to leave me alone.
“I should go,” I announce abruptly, then stand, but Drew instantly grabs my arm. It’s a surprising gesture, and we both freeze in place.
The warm pressure of his hand is steady on my bicep, and the sensation of it heats my core.
I growl, looking at his hand, but I can’t bring myself to walk away, and he’s got enough guts that he doesn’t let me go, either.
What the fuck is wrong with me?
“I just realized something about you,” Drew says, then finally draws his hand back.
I look at him, but don’t say anything.
“You’re a softie,” he says. “A big softie.”
I scoff. “Fuck I’m not.”
