Page 3 of Toren

Toren didn’t have an answer so he gave Andrew a shrug. Neither of them spoke for the rest of the drive to the hotel, not even through the creepingly slow traffic on Hollywood Blvd. When the car finally pulled up out front, Andrew was closest to the curb and he was out of the car, fast as lightning. Toren expected him to say a quick goodnight and escape to his room, but instead he turned toward Toren, hand extended.

“Were you serious about that drink?”

Toren’s lungs collapsed.

“We can get a drink, but you don’t have to pay for it. You don’t have to make up for anything,” he said.

“What if I’m trying to impress you?”

Toren pulled his lips together between his teeth, unsure of how to respond. For years, he’d been on guard and on the defensive. He’d harbored so much animosity over Riggs’s abandonment in the wake of Ev’s death that everyone in his life was forced to bear the brunt of it. He’d almost forgotten what it felt like to let go and go with the flow. But that was the point of him trying to repair his relationship with Riggs, right? He was trying to get back to the version of himself he’d lost when his brother took his last breath.

Toren hadn’t kissed a man since the week after Ev’s funeral. In a fit of self-destruction, he’d picked up the first man who offered his body, and while the sex had been on the enjoyable side of mediocre, Toren still felt hollow afterward. He wasn’t one of those people who needed an emotional connection to fuck, but there was something to be said for liking the person you took to bed.

He didn’t hate Andrew Calavert.

“What if I said I was already impressed?”

Andrew bit his lips between his teeth, fighting a smile that had Toren feeling weak in the knees.

“Then I would suggest we get a bottle of whatever you want from the bar and take it back to one of our rooms instead of enjoying it at a cocktail table with uncomfortable stools that neither of us really want to sit on.”

Toren should have said no, should have put a stop to the whole thing. It was dangerous work to fuck around with one of Smith’s brothers, but he had so many, Toren wasn’t sure he could ever be certain he wasn’t taking a Covington to bed. The both of them living in the same city complicated matters a little too. It would have been easier if Toren would go home to San Diego, and Andrew could fuck off to another state entirely. But no, they were probably on the same flight, and their homes weren’t more than twenty minutes apart.

It was a bad idea.

The worst idea.

“Vodka,” he finally said.

Andrew’s eyebrows raised and he chuckled, catching Toren’s stare like he was offering a dare. “Am I that unattractive?”

“Quite the opposite.”

“Mixer of choice?”

“Soda water,” he said.

“Lime?”

“Of course.”

The two of them didn’t move at first, and then Andrew finally did. Toren watched him saunter to the bar, gesture toward the bottles on the back wall, and not long after, he was back with a bottle of vodka tucked under one arm, two individual-sized bottles of soda water, and a glass stacked with limes.

“I fear the mix might be off,” Andrew said.

“We’ll have to be careful.”

Andrew’s nostrils flared. “Mine or yours?”

“Mine,” Toren said.

“Lead the way.”

Instead of heading for the elevator, Toren made his way toward the suites that wrapped the pool. The walk was tense, the promise of whatever the end of the night was going to bring heavy in the air between them. Andrew followed Toren down a long hallway; the only sound Toren heard from him was the soft thump of sneakers against concrete and the steady sound of Andrew’s breathing. At the end of the hall, Toren dug his hotel keycard from his wallet and held the door open.

Andrew walked in like the room was his own, heading straight past the bed and the desk. He shifted things around in his hands so he had a free one, then he pulled open the balcony door and set everything down on the small table outside. Toren had spent a good bit of his stay out there, the ashtray evidence of it. By the time he found the courage to join Andrew out there, the drinks had already been poured.

Andrew sat in one of the chairs with his legs stretched out in front of him and crossed at the ankle. He barely looked up when Toren took the second seat. Toren set his phone down on the table, along with his pack of smokes and his lighter.