“Just like you’d suspect. I gotta go.”
He started to hang up, but heard Blaine ask, “Wait. You don’t sound right.”
“Go party. I’m good.” Alec disconnected the call and headed for the bedroom. He made it all the way into bed, television turned on, and laptop in his lap before he gave in to the need and pulled his phone up.
He’d planned to do this tomorrow, but tonight seemed fine too. A onetime contact. Nothing too needy, just a simple text. Not even enough to throw anyone off that might be standing around Key when the message came through. He typed the text and decided right then that if he hadn’t heard from Key by Monday night, he’d stop his bellyaching and move on.
“Come by this weekend. I’ll be home.” He paused a second, then added, “I can’t get you out of my head,” but deleted those words. The first two sentences showed interest, the third seemed love-sick—definitely not endearing to a man who hadn’t made contact all week. Alec sent the text and lay back on his pillow, phone in hand, waiting for a response. At some point, he fell asleep.
Sunday morning came, and no response.
Nada, nothing.
So this was how rejection felt. His heart seriously hurt.
=?=
Keyes opened up the bike, passing the stretch of road where he’d met Alec. He exhaled at the tightness gripping his heart. Damn. Why did he feel so messed up over a guy he couldn’t have? Keyes managed to push all those thoughts and feelings away as he throttled the gas and let the wind, darkness, and quiet ease him. Nothing was as bad as all his mood swings this week. Everything calmed. Just him, his Suzuki, and speed. Keyes didn’t want the ride to end. This was where he needed to be all week long.
Business had picked up. Not anything to write home about, but he’d kept on a couple of the day workers, gave them jobs, and they’d stayed busy. One of the guys ICE picked up, Louis, came back. Keyes had always liked and trusted him. He’d be a lot of help keeping the shop going when Key couldn’t be there.
Fox was true to his word. His old man had stayed away and held his tongue when they’d crossed paths. His father had stared daggers at him, but other than that, the man had left him alone.
Nobody had heard from the feds, which seemed weird. The club’s attorney even showed her frustration with the lack of communication.
Life wasn’t so bad—maybe had actually gotten better in many regards. And it wasn’t nearly as hard to stay away from his phone as it had been in the beginning. He had finally reconciled that if Alec had wanted to hear from him, he would have called, and the guy hadn’t. Not at all. Not one single word. Alec could’ve also come to the shop…
Yeah, Keyes called bullshit, and he had promised this week that he’d always be honest with himself, no matter how painful that truth might be. Alec wasn’t going to take a chance on him. He wouldn’t jeopardize either of them. Keyes had struggled mightily after leaving last week. It wasn’t fair, but he could face the facts. He’d pretty much accepted his course in life. He just needed to stay on his road and stop venturing off.
Rounding the corner, he opened up the bike as he hit an almost empty freeway. He had to find a new place to live, maybe rent a house somewhere. He also decided to put the alcohol down. He’d drunk more this week than the combined fifty-two before. His body needed a break, he needed a break.
Maybe ten minutes later, Keyes pulled up to the clubhouse. The place looked empty tonight. Weird for a Saturday night, except almost every member had an old lady now. Even Dev made something official this week, shacking up with someone new. A chick Keyes was supposed to meet next week sometime. A college girl, friends with his sister.
Keyes knocked the kickstand in place, turning off the engine, letting a long yawn slip free. He was tired as he grabbed his duffle bag and headed inside. The floor squeaked as he went through the front door. The lights had been turned down. He spotted Mack pretty much wasted, slumped over a table. He’d obviously been drinking from the collection of bottles nearby, and as relaxed as he was, he was probably high. Mack reached out, almost missing his hand as he did the slap handshake, mimicking something he and Dev always did that ended in a knuckle bump. Mack missed that completely. Keyes just chuckled, then walked across the large open space toward the hall that held the rooms.
“Key, this yours?” He turned toward the Ace. The guy had a cell phone in his hand. He patted his leather cut, didn’t feel his phone there or in his pants pockets. He went over, taking a look at the phone before grabbing it, entering his security code, and the phone opened up.