Better Than Friends (9 page)

What was I doing here? I couldn’t have begun to answer my own rhetorical question, so I decided to concentrate on my drink and get the hell out. I didn’t belong. The music was loud, and I recognized the song blaring through the sound system as a Kings of Leon tune I’d heard many times before. The lead singer’s scratchy, seductive vocals with a haunting melody singing about sex, sex, sex seemed like the perfect background music.

“Is that really you?”

I glanced up to see Jack smiling widely at me, his eyes twinkling with merriment. I was completely unprepared for how hot he looked in his “natural environment.” The song couldn’t have been more fitting because the guy literally looked like “sex on fire.” Jack was stunning. Darkly handsome, heavily muscled, and yeah, heavily tattooed. I gulped and looked away for a moment. I was stupidly unprepared for this encounter. And Jack was obviously surprised to find me hiding in a dark corner at his bar on a Saturday night, nursing a gin and tonic while I stole curious, voyeuristic looks at the patrons. I wasn’t sure what to say now that he was standing in front of me.

“Um… hi. Believe it or not, I was in the neighborhood and….”

Jack threw his head back and let out a hearty laugh. His hand was back on my shoulder, but this time maybe he needed the support since he was practically doubled over with mirth.

“What’s so funny?” I narrowed my eyes and gave him my best dirty look. He was decidedly nonplussed.

“You. Welcome to Jack’s, Curtis. I’m glad your khakis didn’t keep you from coming inside. Although I should probably go talk to the bouncers at the front door. We can’t have them letting too many conservative-looking lawyer types in tonight. You’ll upset the balance.” I thought I spied a dimple in his left cheek when he grinned. Damn. I already knew Jack was sexy but the dimple sealed the deal.

“Ha-ha. Well, thanks for the warm welcome. I’m just going to finish my drink and then beat it. Nice seeing you, Jack.”

“Oh no you don’t. Were you coming by to pick me up for the game? You’re a little early, honey,” he teased. Before I could say a word he looked at my drink with concern. “Where is your lime? Tim!” Jack signaled to the bartender, who politely but immediately ended the conversation he was in at the other end of the bar and rush over to do his boss’s bidding. “Hey man, grab my friend a lime. He’s always forgetting he needs a little twist of something, aren’t you, honey?”

Tim gave a quick salute and was back in a flash with a wedge of lime on a tiny plate. Jack thanked him with a wink, and I swear, even in the dimly lit bar, Tim blushed. I turned to observe Jack while he fussed with the lime. His longish dark hair curled almost sweetly around his ears and at the nape of his neck. He was wearing a very snug-fitted dark T-shirt that showcased his bulging biceps and covered a portion of an intricately designed tattoo covering most of his left arm. Without thinking, I reached out almost instinctively to touch the artwork. Even in the darkened bar lighting, it struck me as being exquisite. Jack watched me, bemused, as I traced the pattern of knots and flourished lines.

“Sorry.” I snatched my hand back at the warm feel of his flesh under my fingertips. What was wrong with me?

“Don’t be. I don’t mind.”

“It’s cool. Almost pretty.” I couldn’t think of any other word for the swirling design.
Pretty
seemed to fit.

“I like it. It’s a tribal design.”

“Is it a… like a sleeve or something?” I wasn’t sure of the terminology but I really was interested.

“Half-sleeve. Actually it’s closer to three quarters now. Just from here to about here.” Jack pointed from the beginnings of the design halfway up his forearm to an area above his shoulder covered by his shirt.

“It’s cool.” Lame. Sitting at his hip leather-clad bar surrounded by muscular, hunky men in my khakis and that was the best I could do. At least I hadn’t ordered a soft drink to totally give away my geek status. I turned my attention back to my cocktail.

“Sooo….”

“What?”

“What are you really doing here?” Tim the bartender set a glass in front of Jack, who wordlessly tipped his head in thanks. Jack kept his eyes on me, and I found the attention very disconcerting.

“I had a date,” I admitted. I chuckled at the funny expression on Jack’s face. I didn’t know him well enough to understand what he was trying to convey, but I appreciated his attempt at humor.

“Where’s the lucky guy? Don’t tell me he took one look at your khakis and—”

“Oh shut up. He was wearing khakis too!”

“Of course he was. Was he a lawyer too?” Jack was clearly enjoying himself at my expense, but it was an easy banter. Not really meant to offend.

“No, he’s in advertising, smart-ass. It was our first….” I felt a little self-conscious with no real cause.

“First what? Fight? Is that why you’re here?”

“Our first date! I hardly know him. How could we be fighting already?”

“You’d be surprised.” I watched Jack’s throat as he paused to take a quick drink. “How did it go? You going out with him again?”

“It went well. I think.”

“You think?” Jack’s expressive eyebrows shot straight toward his hairline. I laughed again at the silly look on his handsome face. “Couldn’t you tell? Obviously you didn’t make it back to one of your places for some hot, kinky man-sex… or maybe you got each other off in the bathroom of a posh restaurant? That sounds kinda hot. Did you?”

“Are you done?”

“Done what?”

“Teasing me? You really think I’d do that? Have sex with a stranger in a bathroom? Fuck, I’m twenty-eight, not eighteen. Although, I don’t think I would have done it ten years ago, either.” I stopped and looked over at Jack. “Would you? Never mind, I don’t want to know.” I snapped my head forward, suddenly embarrassed all over again.

“Yeah, you do. And the answer is hell yes.” I glanced back at him, noting he looked like a pirate now more than ever. Dangerous and proud.

“Misspent youth?”

“Who said anything about misspent anything? Granted, I did some stupid things growing up, but sex wasn’t one of them. And I was never too particular about the venue. As long as you play safe… bathroom, backseat of a car, alley… who cares? I’m not sure I told you this the other night, but sex is one of my favorite things, Curtis.”

All I could hear was that damn song in the background.

“Really?”

“Really what?”

I noticed he kept doing that thing where I’d say something and he’d throw it back at me. I think it was meant to make me squirm a little at his uncomfortable topic choices. Normally, I wouldn’t shy away from discussing sex. It was one of my favorite things too. My problem was I didn’t get enough of it. Sex, that is. Discussion was okay, but he was being purposefully irreverent with the sole object being my discomfort. Asshole.

“Sex is awesome, I absolutely agree, but do you really want it in a bathroom, car, or alley? Aren’t you a little old for that?”

Jack’s grin practically split his face in two. His eyes sparkled as if he’d just heard the funniest joke ever. Finally, he gave in and laughed. At me, not with me.

“What is so funny?” I asked again.

“Curtis, you are a peculiar guy.” He turned and faced me, making sure he was the only person in my line of vision. No distractions. “For the record, let me be clear. In the immortal words of Dr. Seuss, ‘I would do it in the rain, I would do it in the dark or on a train, in a car or in a tree. It is so good so good, you see. Yep, I would do it in the bathroom, in the backseat or hell, the front seat or a darkened alley. I would do it here or there. In fact, it’s safe to say… I would do it anywhere.’” He winked at me. “And I am talking about sex, not green eggs and ham, sweetheart.”

I stared at his twinkling blue eyes, now fused with something akin to desire, and swallowed hard as my cock hardened noticeably in my khakis. Sitting still was suddenly difficult.

“That was impressive. Dirty, but impressive. I don’t think Dr. Seuss would ever have thought of green eggs and ham along the same lines, but who knows? And by the way, you forgot the box, the fox, the house, and the mouse.”

“Oh you’re right. Well, same goes for the box and the house, but the animals are out.” We both laughed at his silly humor.

“So you’re a Dr. Seuss fan?” Idle chat about a children’s author would surely shift the conversation away from sex.

“I have a niece and a nephew. Two and four. They love those books.”

It struck me as unbelievably sexy that this motorcycle-riding, leather-wearing, tattooed hottie could quote Dr. Seuss—well, give artistic license to his work—because he read it to his sister’s kids. Sexy as hell and very sweet too.

“It’s funny that they’re reading the same books I remember loving as a kid,” I said, sounding strangely wistful.

“I know what you mean. Believe it or not, those were favorites of mine way back when. You know, in the olden days before cell phones and, damn, remote-controlled television and computers.” Jack shook his head, his comical expression inviting me to share the joke.

“You’re not that old,” I protested. “You’re older than me, I guess, but….” I let my sentence hang, hoping he’d fill in the blanks without me having to ask. He didn’t disappoint.

“I’m forty-two. Fourteen years older than you. Practically an old man.” His grin was mischievous and filled with humor.

“Forty-two. Geez, I guess you are old, then,” I teased.

He threw his head back laughing and flipped me off with a subtle turn of his wrist. I chuckled in spite of myself. Jack was charming. No two ways about it. Maybe it was the disarming combination of his hunky good looks and his self-deprecating playfulness. I couldn’t say, but I found myself very pleased to be in his company again.

“How old was your date?”

Huh? My date? I scrambled for a moment trying to refocus.

“For Christ’s sake, Curt! So you didn’t fuck the guy… can’t you remember anything about him? What was his name? If all you can remember was that he wore khakis and had a good job, he sounds boring already.”

I knew he was goading me but I was dumb enough to take the bait.

“Shut up. His name is Paul. He’s good-looking, British”—I raised my eyebrows appreciatively, letting Jack know I had a thing for accents—“loves jazz music, and drives an Audi.” I gave him a “so there” look reminiscent of a kid blowing raspberries as I picked up my glass and took a drink.

“How big was his dick?”

Gin and tonic sprayed the bar in front of me as I sputtered and choked in an effort to reclaim some shred of dignity. A glance at my barmate smiling widely told me he knew he had me. Asshole.

“I don’t know.” I sounded like a prim schoolteacher. “I told you I just met the guy. What is with you?”

Jack was unperturbed with my irritated tone. He gave me that lopsided, almost-innocent grin.

“How many of these so-called dates do you have to go on before you get to the fun stuff? And don’t bite my head off… I’m just curious.”

“Stop, all right? Things like ‘the fun stuff’ happens when it happens.” I wasn’t sure if I was making any sense now. Jack had me flustered all over again. “All I know is, well….” I searched for the right word to express what I felt about my date with Paul. “He was nice.”

“Code for boring.”

“You sound like Aaron.”

“Oh puh-leeze. Anyone will tell you the same thing. Tim!” Tim the bartender instantly appeared, looking like a puppy anxious to please his master.

“Yeah, boss?”

“If some guy tells you he went out with a guy and described him as being ‘nice.’ What does that mean to you?”

“Dull, bland, blah, you know… boring.”

“Thanks, Tim.”

I gave Tim a wan smile and flashed a dirty look at Jack.

“He wasn’t boring.” I couldn’t figure out why I was defending Paul so adamantly.

“Okay, whatever you say. I believe you,” Jack said in a placating tone. “You goin’ out with him again?”

“I don’t know. Maybe.” Jack rolled his eyes at my tepid response. “Truthfully, it was my first date in a while.” I shrugged, feeling slightly embarrassed by my admission, and I didn’t have a clue how I was supposed to qualify the baseball game Jack and I were going to the next day. To me it was a date, but maybe not to him.

“Hmm. I can’t remember the last time I went on a date.”

“Really? Why? I mean, when do you think your last date was? Mine was at least three years ago.” I shook my head, thinking the gin must be strong. “Pathetic. I can’t believe I just told you that.”

“Why not? I told you I can’t even remember my last date. But let me clarify. By date, I’m talkin’ go out for dinner or the movies, wrangle over who pays for what, kiss, and go home to separate beds. Fuck, it’s been decades.” He paused and shook his head dramatically before adding, “I hope.”

“What’s that supposed to mean? No. Don’t tell me. You said you were single a couple weeks ago, but were you in a long-term relationship? Did you break up with someone recently?”

Jack eyed me thoughtfully before answering.

“Not all that recent anymore. My last so-called relationship was over two years ago.”

“Hmm.” Almost as bad as my three-year stint, I thought.

Jack shot me a sharp look. “Why do I get the feeling you’re confusing dates with sex? I haven’t done much of the former but I’ve had plenty of the latter in the past couple of years.” Jack’s smile was lusty and challenging. He was definitely trying to keep me off-balance and was doing a fine job of it.

“Uh….” My elbow slipped off the bar as another patron sidled close in an effort to get Tim’s attention.

“Come on. It’s getting crowded. Follow me.”

Jack stood abruptly and firmly took hold of my upper arm before slipping his hand in mine, guiding me through the tight confines of the overcrowded bar. While we were talking the floodgates had certainly opened, and I found myself surrounded by men.

I admired Jack’s broad, muscular form as he expertly made his way through the press of bodies toward a small flight of stairs. He was hailed a few times and waved a friendly greeting in turn, but he kept hold of my hand, and I’d never been more aware of a man’s hand in my own. Well, not since we’d walked hand in hand to his motorcycle after the wedding a couple weeks ago.