It's Complicated: A Reservations Story

Julian was tired and growing more weary by the second. A helpless feeling that engulfed him. He hated not knowing about that night, but if he were to be completely honest with himself, he was absolutely terrified at the thought of discovering what had actually happened.

He swirled the ice around in the glass and sighed, trying to make sense of it all. Why couldn’t things go back to the way they were? He took a long drink of the whiskey, letting the familiar burn blaze a trail down his throat, warm his belly, and dull his frazzled nerves.

Julian placed the glass on the coffee table and scrubbed his hands over his face again as he tried hard to gain some perspective. Other than explaining his story during a physical therapy session with Levi, Julian wasn’t sure he’d ever said these words aloud. Even in counseling, because she had known his situation before he ever got to her.

“I was kidnapped, beaten, and gang-raped well over a year ago. Two years now. Over the last week or so, the memories have started sliding back in. I just had another flashback.”

The shaking of his hands had him reaching for the cocktail glass, needing anything left inside to squelch the angst building inside him. He tipped the drink back. Beckett took it from him, going for the bar. “Is there anyone I can call for you?”

“Fuck no,” Julian said, dropping back against the soft cushion. “Those mother hens out there seriously make everything worse.”

“So, both Walker and Layne know? It seemed like they probably did with what they said at that dinner. They never told me the specifics,” Beckett explained as he walked back to the edge of the sofa and handed Julian the drink. Beckett stayed on his feet, and Julian couldn’t muster the nerve to look up. No matter what Julian said to Beckett, he couldn’t stand the idea of the man’s deep interest and desire turning to sympathy and pity. Somehow the thought made Julian feel worse, and he lifted the glass to his lips, taking a smaller sip this time. “It makes sense they know. I guess it was a dumb question.”

“Thane found me in a hospital. I missed a scheduled…date.” Julian stopped speaking, knowing that a good guy like Beckett would never understand how Julian had previously lived. A life Julian missed more than he could ever admit.

“You dated Thane?” Beckett asked in more of a way to keep him talking than hinting to any sort of jealousy.

“Not like what you’re thinking.” Julian took another sip as he decided to lay it all out.

The Marlboro Man represented a reprieve for Julian, more of a hopeful distraction. One he would always appreciate. Sadly, there wouldn’t be a future for them, and it was time Julian explained to Beckett exactly why.

“Back then, I was an escort on retainer. I missed a scheduled date with Thane. I was supposed to be his date for the opening of Escape Coronado,” Julian explained, possibly oversharing. He took a longer drink of the whiskey this time which tasted more like acid scorching his throat. Julian forced himself back into his old perspective, refusing to acknowledge the heavy shame he’d carried since the accident. He pushed to his feet, starting for the glass wall overlooking the club.

The disgrace wasn’t new but damn hard to rebuff, and that was fucking Beckett’s fault. The man brought all this uncharted emotion forward for him. Julian had never felt uncomfortable admitting anything in his life. Honestly, Beckett just needed to leave. Hope and kindness were not for men like Julian. He knew firsthand what the world was made of and exactly what people thought about men like him.

“I should have told you a long time ago. I just liked the way you made me feel. I miss the attention I used to get.”

Julian tilted his head and looked out over the empty club below so he didn’t have to see Beckett when he said, “I used to know what it meant to shine. I was on retainer for dozens of wealthy men when they came into town. I thought I had it all and I did. Money, cars, trips to the most exotic places. The best of everything. After the attack… I stopped living. Then you come along and make me think I could live again, you make me feel alive.”

The vulnerability caused Julian to pause as he placed a palm on the window and took another drink. “I’ve always been proud of the man I was, proud of the life I made for myself. That is until I laid eyes on you.”

“What did I do to make you think less of yourself?” Beckett asked in a little above a whisper from a closer position than where he’d stood before. “I certainly don’t think less of you, Julian. Why would I?”