But it wasn’t just playing around to Matt. It was his dream. They didn’t understand that.
His mom spoke to Oliver some more. Apparently, his parents were returning early and would be there in a few hours. His friend Chance’s mom had dropped him off.
“Do you want to come up to my room and play some video games with me?” Oliver asked him.
Matt’s eyes shot to his mom, and he hoped she wouldn’t say that he had to help her clean. Thankfully, she gave him a small smile and a quick nod.
“Or you can keep playing the piano if you want. What else can you play?” Oliver asked.
As much as Matt thought about playing in front of people, that wasn’t his thing. He felt too “on display” when people watched him so he shook his head. “Nah, I’m done here. What games do you have?” he asked.
Oliver led him upstairs, telling him all the games he had. They played for an hour, and he realized Oliver wasn’t a douchebag like Matt thought he would be. Oliver was nice.
When Matt had to leave, Oliver said maybe he could come with his mom next time and play the piano and some more video games with him, and Matt realized how much he wanted that.
From that day forward, Oliver was his best friend.
Matt’s eyes popped open from his dream. He didn’t know how long he’d slept, likely not long since it was still dark outside, but he knew Parker was right. He needed to go home. He needed to take a break and figure out what in the hell was going on with him.
CHAPTER THREE
They stayed until Wild Side closed. It wasn’t often they made it until two but with Chance dancing and the drinks readily flowing, Oliver’s head spun in a way it hadn’t for years. He’d drank too much, way too fucking much. He couldn’t control his laughter as he stumbled out of the bar, Miles and Chance on either side of him. He had an arm wrapped around each of the men and could feel the goofy-ass smile on his face.
Life was pretty fucking good. He had two of his best friends by his side, and yeah, if he was being honest, Eddie wasn’t so bad. He might have exaggerated the nasal sound just a bit. The man was gorgeous and seemed to like Oliver, so what did he have to lose?
“I’m definitely going to fuck Eddie tomorrow night. It’s been too long since I’ve gotten any ass.” Jesus, he missed sex. Why didn’t he fuck more often? Why did he always have to care about feelings and knowing someone? Why couldn’t it just be about orgasms and blowjobs?
Chance let out a loud laugh, and Oliver knew if he looked at Miles, his friend would be shaking his head at him.
“Skipping head and going straight to fucking. This is very serious for you,” Miles replied.
Chance said, “I’m in agreement. You don’t have enough sex. I’ve said that for years.” They stopped on the busy corner of Sunset Boulevard. From the corner of his eye, Oliver could see the familiar sign with the silver “W” and Wild to the left and Side to the right of it. All the bars and clubs were emptying out, the sidewalks flooded with people. Chance wiped the smeared eyeliner from beneath his eyes with his finger, the nail painted pink.
“Oh yeah. You had a good time.” A sexy guy with a shaved head smiled at Oliver, obviously clued into his drunkenness.
“Thanks for noticing,” Oliver replied with a grin, and both Miles and Chance laughed from beside him. He loved this. Spending time with his friends. He wished Matt was here with them, but he was lucky to have Chance and Miles.
They stood at the corner for a moment and Chance commented, “You must really like nose guy. You don’t fuck just anyone, Mr. Romance.”
It wasn’t that he thought he loved the guy or anything. He was horny; Eddie was nice and good-looking. Oliver deserved an orgasm from someone other than his own hand and too much porn—if there was such a thing as too much porn.
“Or he’s just drunk, and he’ll change his mind tomorrow.” Miles tried to burst his bubble. It was a knack he had.
Oliver rolled his eyes. He wasn’t going to let Miles kill his buzz. “I’m getting a car.” He pulled out his phone and noticed five missed calls from Matt. His pulse automatically started to sprint.
“What is it?” Miles asked and tried to look over his shoulder at his phone. He was good at reading Oliver. Miles was good at reading most people.
“Matt. He called five times. It’s late for him. Something must be up.” Plus, it had been a while since he’d heard from him. He didn’t say that, though. Verbalizing it would just get Miles going and make it so Chance had to play peacekeeper.