Six Degrees of Lust (11 page)

“He’s been painting, Chris.”

68 Taylor V. Donovan

Julian had been a no show Friday night for dinner with

Braxton, Mac, Gabi, and himself, which was unacceptable, as

his friends from Texas were in town only for a few days. Then

he’d backed out of their dinner plans the night before with a

text stating he needed to finish an important piece he’d been

struggling with.

That was the third time in the past week alone he’d canceled

on Chris, which was exactly why this morning he’d decided to

just show up at Julian’s place to bring him something to eat.

He never made it past the door.

His boyfriend had claimed he was working on a piece and

Chris had been convinced he was being lied to.

Julian had been clean.

“There were no paint smudges on his face, his hands, or his

clothes this morning.” He shook his head. “And I didn’t smell

turpentine on him either, so he didn’t clean up before answering

the door.”

Gabi rolled her eyes again. “So maybe he was hiding someone

in the apartment.”

“I’ll kill him if he was!”

Could he be overreacting? After all, they hadn’t been dating

for very long, so it was possible this was a transitional period for

both of them. Or maybe Julian was as emotionally distant as the

others had been, and Christian was just now seeing it. Why would

his boyfriend make up excuses to not spend time with him? Crap.

What if he was seeing somebody else?

“You’re not happy, Chris. Perhaps you—”

He cut her off. “I’m not breaking up with him. I’m determined

to make things work between us.”

He had to.

He needed stability and he needed to do whatever he could

to keep himself from trying to pursue other things he knew he

couldn’t have… and a man who didn’t want Chris back. Plus he

refused to accept he’d failed at yet another attempt to be happy.

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69

“Moping is not going to give you the answers, you know?”

Gabi’s voice startled him. “But it will give you wrinkles!” She said

with a huge smile, knowing well how badly he freaked out over

any signs of age.

Regardless of his shitty mood, he smiled back at the girl

that was like a ray of sunshine in his life and hugged her to his

side. “You’re a saint for listening to me, Gabs.” He kissed her

head. “Thank you so much for being here.” He took a step back,

making her twirl in the process. “And can I just say you look

absolutely stunning?”

Even with her long brown hair swept back into a ponytail and

her face free of any makeup, Gabriela Moreau was, without a

doubt, the most striking woman Christian had ever known. Her

personality was as radiant and beautiful as her exterior.

“You’re such a charmer.” Gabi hugged him tight and patted

his back. “Why, oh why couldn’t you be straight?”

“Bite your tongue!” They’d met their first day of class at

the San Francisco Art Institute ten years ago and the two had

become fast friends, helping one another through some really

hard times. Divorce, death, twenty different types of heartache…

They’d suffered it all together, and Christian would die without

her.

“If you’re so sure he’s being unfaithful you should dump his

ass.” Gabi’s tone was full of hate. “The same way I did.”

“It’s not the same case, sweetie.”

“Do you think he’s been kicking his own ass all this time for

what he did?”

“Straight men tend to be idiots. They don’t really appreciate

what they have until they’ve lost it.” Chris didn’t need to ask who

she was referring to. He sighed and rubbed her arms. “Although

same applies to gay men most of the time.”

“I wouldn’t know.” Gabi shrugged, her eyes and voice hard.

“Never had a straight man walk out on me.”

“Gabs…” Chris took a deep breath. “You know I wasn’t

70 Taylor V. Donovan

necessarily referring to him, right? It was a general observation

and—”

“Him?” She sneered, and it pained Chris to admit it, but it

wasn’t a pretty sight. “If you’re referring to that lying son of a

bitch who cheated on me and managed to kill my daughter in the

process, his name’s Sam. I don’t understand why you never want

to say his name.”

“He didn’t kill your daughter.”

“He lied to me.”

“Sam was struggling with his identity at the time,” Chris said

in a soothing voice. “And must I remind you of the fact that he

told you about his bisexuality as soon as he—”

“He should have told me before marrying me!”

Chris shook his head. Gabi was a doll, but she was also

completely unreasonable when it came to her former husband

and the reasons why their marriage had ended.

“This is why I avoid bringing up his name.” He put the empty

bottle down and hugged his friend. “You get a little crazy and

that’s not good for you, love.”

“I’m sorry.” She offered a little smile. “That was totally

selfish of me. Here you are, trying to figure out what to do about

your current relationship with Julian, and I start talking about

something that should be left in the past.”

“Don’t you worry about it.”

“Maybe you should take a break from Julian,” she suggested

after a few seconds. “Be by yourself for a while and figure out

what you really want.”

Chris was proud of her.

Usually it took her hours to get out of her funk whenever the

subject of Samuel Shaughnessy came up.

“All I want is a steady relationship with Julian and for

Metaphora to be the most famous gallery in the world.” That he

wanted the love of a certain Cajun boy more than anything else

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71

was left unsaid. No sense in dwelling on what wasn’t available.

“But this pity party’s over for now, love. I assume we have an

appointment to keep?”

Chris knew she’d planned something to cheer him up as

soon as he opened his door and found her leaning against the

wall, wearing jeans and a casual tunic instead of one of the chic,

fashionable numbers she wore to the gallery every day.

Gabi grabbed his shoes off the floor and handed them to

him. “But of course we do.”

“What about work?” he asked, slipping on his shoes.

“Metaphora will be fine without us for one day.” She lifted his

keys and satchel from the white marble bar and shoved playfully

against his back. “That’s what we hire competent employees for,

so that we can play hooky whenever we want.”

Without saying another word, Chris turned and locked the

door of his loft, then the two of them hit the elevator.

§ § § §

“…and today I got my flight and hotel confirmation. The

hotel looks so swanky, you don’t even know. I can’t wait to be

there! And you should come along. Won’t you please let me make

the reservations? We would have so much f—”

“I’m in the middle of an investigation, Adam. I can’t even

go to Hoboken right now. Not if it isn’t work related.” Logan

crossed his legs and inspected his fingernails, wishing he had

enough time to get a manicure while he was at his friend’s spa.

“But you’ve been in the middle of an investigation for the

past three years! And who in their right mind would want to go to

Hoboken anyway? It’s in New Jersey, for crying out loud!”

“What can I say? It’s my job.”

“Surely you’ve earned some vacation time?” His oldest friend

could be very persistent. “Besides, Sydney Mardi Gras isn’t until

late February next year, and it’s only May. I’m sure you’ll manage

to catch whatever bad man you’re chasing now within the next

nine months.”

72 Taylor V. Donovan

“I wish I could be as sure as you are.”

“Oh, come on. You’ve yet not caught a bad man you’ve gone

after. This time won’t be any different. Tell that dreamboat you

have for a boss that I insist he lets you take some time off. Better

yet, let’s bring him to Sydney with us!” Adam grabbed a box

of hair extensions that was part of the supplies delivered that

morning and proceeded to count and inspect, making sure its

contents matched those of his invoice. “Could you please be a

darling and bring me those boxes stacked by the far wall?”

“This is Hugo Boss I’m wearing.”

“I noticed.”

“I have a meeting to go to.”

“If you’re careful you won’t get dust all over it.”

“The things I do for you,” Logan grumbled as he walked to

the back of the storage room to get the boxes his friend had

asked for, which gave Adam a chance to study him. Logan let

him. The guy did the same whenever he stopped by.

He knew midnight blue Hugo Boss was a good choice for his

tall and lean physique. He looked elegant and refined. Years of

healthy eating and yoga had done his body good. With his black

hair slicked back and serious attitude he looked every inch the

FBI agent he was. People would never guess the piercings and

extensive body art his suit hid. They’d never guess the fears and

terrible nightmares his collected demeanor managed to conceal.

His friend Adam, on the other hand, was shorter but larger

in build, had electric blue hair and today he was wearing a deep

terracotta suit, looking every inch the hair dresser turned spa

owner that he was. Their lives were as different as their looks, but

none of it had gotten in the way of their friendship.

Logan had been on his way to a meeting and decided to stop

by after realizing he had a little over two hours to spare. Adam had

been thrilled, as they hadn’t seen each other in a very long time.

Logan’s job had become quite busy lately to say the least, and he

hadn’t had time to breathe, much less hang out with Adam.

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73

“You look tired, honey.” Adam was like a mother hen, always

making sure he ate well and got enough rest. Logan loved him

for that.

“I’m fine.”

“All work and no fun makes Logan—”

He dropped the boxes next to his friend’s legs. “Not dull, I

assure you.”

“Get real. I haven’t seen you out of a suit in almost a year.

Can you even remember the last time you went to the movies?

How about clubbing?”

“What are you talking about? I go clubbing three times

a week,” he replied absently, walking towards the door of the

storage room he’d found his friend in when he arrived. Someone

out there was laughing, and his laugh made Logan want to smile.

From the door he had a partial view of Escape’s hair and makeup

section and its respective waiting area, which he scanned until he

located the source of the contagious laugh.

“You go to clubs for work,” he heard Adam say. “That

doesn’t count. Can’t we go cruising? I want to see you made up,

wearing your clubbing outfits. I want to see you hook up with

a guy that you have a hard-on for and not one that might have

some information you need.”

“Adam?”

“Hmm?”

“Any idea of who the hot blond holding court in your lobby

might be?” Adam walked over and flashed a cheeky smile when

he noticed who Logan was looking at.

“That, my dear, would be Christian Murphy. The Amazon

sitting next to him is Gabriela, his best friend in the entire world.”

“Regular clients of yours?”

“They come for hair, manicure, and pedicure every week;

facials once a month. This morning Gabi called and booked

facials, body scrubs, massages… you know, the whole package.

Said it was an emergency. Man trouble, judging by the look on

74 Taylor V. Donovan

their faces when they arrived. Christian’s boyfriend, and I use that

term loosely, must be in the shit house again.” Adam turned away

and went back to his boxes and invoices.

“Why would you use the term loosely?” he asked without

taking his eyes off the guy, trying to remember if he’d seen him

before. There was something so familiar about him.

“Any particular reason why you’d like to know?”

Logan smiled at his friend’s teasing tone. He’d been staring at

the guy out in the lobby pretty hard, so he wasn’t surprised by it.

“You know he’s not my type.”

“Well, in this case that’s a good thing, as Christian swore off

tall, athletic, and gorgeous several months ago. You wouldn’t

have had a chance with him anyway.” Adam closed the last box

of supplies and dusted his hands. “At some point he decided

that average is the route to go when pursuing a monogamous,

committed relationship. Load of crap, as far as I’m concerned.”

“I sense a story behind that decision,” Logan muttered. “Do

you know what happened to him?”

“Do I look like the type that likes to gossip?” Adam laughed

as soon as Logan raised an eyebrow at him. “Fine. Never mind

that.” His friend sighed. “Lots of heartache, basically. Falling for

the wrong guy every single time. Getting fucked by guys that

refuse to come out of the closet. You know how it is.”