Walter didn't flinch at my outburst. He scrutinized my impromptu work of art. “Has he ever told you why he has you followed?”
“No.”
“Have you thought about leaving the city? Maybe he'd— ”
“I won't let him run me off. Anyway, it's different this time. A reporter called here the other day.”
Walter lowered the bottle from his lips. “Not good.”
“I know. If in a couple of days, I haven't found a place— ”
He raised a hand in the air. “You don't even have to ask. Just come on over. For as long as you need.”
“Thanks. I'm sorry about before. I'm not used to... I don't know how to... ” I shrugged.
“Care?”
“I guess.”
“Thanks for the concern. I'm fine. You take care of yourself. I have a feeling he might become dangerous.”
I met my friend's gaze. “He's always been dangerous.”
We stood in silence for a few minutes. Walter fetched another beer from the kitchen and held it out to me. “So I haven't talked to you since last weekend. I take it Saturday night went well?”
I reached for the beer and winced. There was no way I was getting out of admitting whom I'd been with. “Fucker.”
Walter took a seat on the couch. “Yep. So it was them again, huh?”
I sat on the edge of the desk. “I couldn't stop myself.”
“Why should you?” He shifted on the cushion. “This couch is one uncomfortable piece of furniture.”
“I'll leave it here when I go. Maybe this time I'll find a nicer place, get some real furniture.” I tapped the beer bottle against my thigh. “Maybe I should stop trying to run from him and see what the hell he's going to do next.”
“You can't run forever.”
I took another swallow of beer, held it in my mouth, and let the cool liquid warm between my cheeks. Something I used to do with my milk as a kid. My father hated it. He'd sit across from me at the dinner table and demand I swallow. Milk wasn't to be drunk warm.
“Will I see you at the club tonight?” Walter asked.
I choked down the beer and wiped my mouth with the back of my hand. “You'll be back again already?”
“I might be. There's this guy— who doesn't get involved with anyone twice— who's taken to going upstairs with the same two men. I have to see who he ends up with next.”
“Very funny.”
“No, it isn't funny at all.”
I regarded him with a questioning stare.
“Matthew's energetic, but he's honest, responsive. I think his energy will be a nice change for you. Richard is a good man. He's strong and confident. They are fine men.”
I ditched the beer on the desk. “Hold up. Just ‘cause I'm with the same guys twice in a row doesn't mean I'm about to start a relationship.”
“Would that be the worst thing?”
“It just might be.” I stood and headed for the door. I stopped short, my back to Walter. “What happened to him?”
“Who?”
“Richard. His scar.”
Walter didn't answer. I faced him. The smug grin pissed me off.
Apparently, he didn't care. The damn grin widened. “I think that should be a question for him.”
“Right.” I'd likely never speak to Richard again. Then why the hell did I care about his past?
Walter stared at me as if he waited for me to share more. What did he want to hear? Then he spoke. “You're going through men as if you're looking for something, only you aren't sure what it is you want.”
“I haven't been looking for anything. I'm just trying to enjoy life.”
“I don't think so.”
“How the hell do you know what I want?”
Walter stood and covered the distance between us. “You forget I've fucked you.” He placed a hand on my shoulder. “I've seen men there for the pleasure. That hasn't been you since the first moment I met you.” He embraced me. “Good luck tonight, Luke.”
“You're an asshole, you know that?”
“That I am.” He smirked and walked out the door.
I jumped in the shower, and his comments rolled around as only the observations of a friend could do. I was dressed and ready to go when I accepted he'd hit on a truth.
What the hell was I looking for?
I wasn't sure. But deep down, in a place I tried hard not to listen to, I knew I'd found it.
For that reason alone, I was determined to get to the club and look for two men I'd never been with before. Getting back to my usual play would help me shake off the thoughts of the past week— thoughts about my father, his stalkers, and my college years.
And most importantly, thoughts about the only two men I'd ever broken my rule for.
Chapter Seven
“Hello, Luke.” The voice was low and deep, but unfamiliar.
The disappointment was hard to ignore.
I set my drink on the bar and inspected the man on the stool next to me. He could have stepped right off the pages of GQ. Every feature was a work of symmetry. The five o'clock shadow did nothing to hide the strong cleft chin. He had to be forty, but his skin showed no signs of age or any other abuse. Perhaps he pickled himself every night.
“Do I know you?” I asked.
“No, but your reputation precedes you. I've been wanting to make your acquaintance for a couple of weeks.”
“Should I be flattered or concerned?”
“It's all good, I assure you. As am I. You won't be disappointed.”
What he didn't know was I'd already had the best fuck of my life. It'd be hard for anyone to measure up. I glanced around the room and spotted another man. The one beside me no longer mattered. Whether or not I wanted to admit it, I'd found what I sought for the night.
Without taking my eyes off my find, I said, “I appreciate the offer, but I'm unavailable tonight.”
“Really? You've been here alone for half an hour now, and I
