It felt as though he’d passed the baton of responsibility. Ribka was now Annette Davies’s problem, and Tag could go home with a clean conscience. Clear of this, at least, since he still wasn’t sure how he felt about his involvement with Bass… or how he felt about himself over it.
Tag leaned against the bus stop pole and shoved his hands into the pockets of his hoodie. He couldn’t even plead ignorance. Sure, for that first week, he’d been in the dark, but after that? He knew perfectly well what Bass did, what he was, and he overlooked it because he liked him. It was easy to enjoy the bad boy and the bike until he saw the actual cost of his thrills.
Now? Tag still wanted the possessive sprawl of Bass’s body over his in bed, the hunger for him, and the open, confident affection. But it wasn’t easy anymore. Once you realized something, it wasn’t so easy to pretend it away again. He could probably manage it for a while, but he couldn’t overlook terrified women the same way he could being fucked over himself.
He absently fingered the phone in his pocket. He didn’t actually need to worry about that, he supposed, since he hadn’t heard from Bass in days. The last text had been brusque and four days ago.
Be careful. Trust me.
As though he could do both of those things at once.
“Tag?”
Kieran. Tag thumped his head gently against the pole in frustration. Even if he was more or less over being dumped, he wasn’t quite at the point where he wanted to be friends with his ex, especially not today, when he could hear the “I told you so” in his near future.
“I’ve told you before,” Kieran said. “Ignoring something doesn’t make it disappear.”
“You don’t know that,” Tag said. “It just hasn’t worked so far, but maybe I haven’t tried hard enough.”
Kieran didn’t reply. The weight of his refusal to play into Tag’s mood was almost tangible. After a second, Tag gave up and looked around.
“Kieran,” he said with mock surprise. “Where did you come from? No Freddie?”
“He’s at his nephew’s birthday party,” Kieran said. “I’m headed back over there. I was called in for an emergency consult.”
Tag snorted to himself, but not quietly enough, because Kieran gave him a disapproving look.
“I just always imagine him being the Other Man,” Tag said. “Either sprawled seductively over a table or propped sexily against a wall, rubbing whiskey and truffles into his nipples.”
“He’d lose his job.”
“I just never imagined him playing musical chairs at a kid’s birthday party.” Tag glanced down at his feet and scuffed his sneaker over a weed in the pavement. “I guess people aren’t always who you want them to be.”
“I wasn’t for you,” Kieran admitted. “I try to be for Freddie, even though it’s not always easy. Are you okay with that?”
For fuck’s sake.Apparently Tag couldn’t have one politely distant conversation with his ex without said ex making it a thing.
“No,” Tag said caustically. “I’m not. The idea makes me want to sit on the ground and scream until I pass out. What are you going to do about it?”
He waited expectantly for a second. When Kieran didn’t come up with anything, Tag snorted impatiently. “Don’t flatter yourself, Kieran. I’m fine. If you and Freddie make each other happy, get on with it.”
Kieran’s shoulders relaxed. “I suppose I should wish you and your biker the same,” he said, but then he didn’t. “I didn’t come over to talk about Freddie. Ned told me about why the police were here last week. A girl abandoned her baby with you?”
“Ned can’t keep his mouth shut.”
Kieran chuckled and put his hands in the pockets of his jacket. “You’ve noticed. Still, it sounded awful. Is the child okay?”
There was a lot to cover there, and Tag wasn’t sure how much he could actually share. Legally.
“Better now he’s getting the care he needs,” he said. “No news on his… um… my neighbor yet.”
“And you?”
“Great.”
“I’ve known you for years,” Kieran said. “And I’m a psychiatrist. That is clearly not true. Look, why don’t I give you a lift? We can talk. Whatever happened between us—how we got here—doesn’t mean we have to hate each other.”
“I’m fine, really,” Tag said. He smiled at Kieran. and it was mostly genuine. “The bus ride will give me time to think, and don’t you have a birthday party to get to?”
