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Revived (The Dungeon Black Duology 2)

Page 42

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Which made what transpired afterwards that much rougher. When Tad told Scott in the parking lot just a few minutes later that he wasn’t ready to tell people about their relationship. Scott supposed he should’ve expected it. Tad was facing a pretty big life changer. And in fairness, they’d only hung out four times. But it’d stung regardless, ‘cause he’d gotten his hopes up. Had thought back on those mats had been a turning point.

Tad must have read his expression, though, before Scott could hide it, because he’d quickly promised to tell people this weekend. Not Friday, though—when Scott had wanted to see him— because Tad had plans with friends who didn’t know. Friends he had no intention of telling about Scott until after tonight’s outing.

Which was fine. Whatever. Scott didn’t want to pressure him. Wanted Tad to do this on his own.

Sighing, Scott headed into his bedroom to get dressed. He was going out, too. Was due for a good time. But mostly, he just needed the distraction.

He donned some dark jeans and had just pulled on a Henley when he spotted Max passing in the hallway. Great timing. Just the man he wanted to see. Not that he didn’t see Max every day as it was. But ever since the night Max tore out of his office with Sean still there, Scott had barely been able to get five words out of the guy. Every time Scott asked him if he was doing okay, Max would shut down and abruptly change the subject. Or flat-out walk away.

Time to try another approach.

Scott strode out to catch him. “Hey, Max. Hold up.”

Max paused, turned around, then just stood there and looked at him.

“It’s Friday.” Scott smiled—sorta—and drew to a stop. “Come out with me. Shake the week off. Have a couple of drinks.”

Max’s features turned sullen. “I don’t think so. Not tonight.”

“Come on. Why not?”

“Not in the mood.”

Scott crossed his arms and nodded. “I’m not really either. Which is exactly why the both of us need to.”

Max eyed him, brows scrunching. “What’s wrong with you?”

Scott shrugged. “Nothing really, I guess. Just wanna get out and have some fun.”

Max studied him harder, then crossed his arms, too. “Nothing really, you guess,” he repeated flatly. His shrewd gaze narrowed. “Is Tad coming?”

Scott’s casual air faltered. He shook his head. “No.”

“Why not?”

“Has other plans.”

Max pursed his lips. “With his friends?”

“Yeah.” Scott pocketed his hands. “Birthday outing for one of his boys.”

“Have you met this boy?”

Another shrug. “Yeah.”

“And yet Tad still didn’t invite you to hang out with them.”

Scott frowned, jaw clenching. He knew where Max was going with this. “No.”

“Ah.” Max nodded. “Because he still hasn’t told them.”

Scott sighed, tired of always having to defend Tad’s actions. “Yeah. But only because he’s—”

“Still in the closet.”

“No.”

“Yes.”

“Max. You’re deviating. Stop.”

Max scowled and looked away.

Scott pushed his shoulder. “Come on. Let’s go out. Clearly, we both fucking need it.”

“I don’t need it. I’m just not in the mood.”

“Why, you don’t feel good?”

“I feel fucking fine.”

“You don’t look fine, Max. You look like shit.”

Max shot him a glare. “Gee. Thanks, asshole.”

“Just calling it like I see it. And honestly, I’m not surprised.”

“Oh, yeah? And why’s that?”

“Because you haven’t been sleeping good.”

Max’s jaw muscle ticked. “I’ve been sleeping fine.”

Scott frowned. “No, you haven’t. Your nightmares are back.”

Max visibly stiffened but didn’t reply. Guess he figured there was no point denying it. Wasn’t like he could talk his way out of what Scott heard. And Scott definitely heard it. Or rather, them. Ever since “the night” that Max refused to talk about, he’d been having them again pretty friggin’ regularly.

Max exhaled and scrubbed his face. “I’m sorry… if I woke you.”

“No. Don’t be sorry. I’m just saying. We both need to take a load off. Have some fun.”

Max stared at the ground for a second before nodding. “Fine. I’ll go. Haven’t stirred up trouble in ages.”

Scott stilled, then frowned and pointed at him sternly. “No fights, Max. Just fun.”

“Fighting is fun.”

“It’s also illegal.”

Max grunted. “And your point?”

Scott shoved the side of his head. “Just be ready in twenty.”

Max muttered under his breath and turned toward his room.

Scott watched him. Smiled a little. Then called after his friend. “Get us kicked out of the club tonight, and I will beat your grumpy fucking ass.”

* * * * *

“Damn. This place is hoppin’.”

Max nodded irritably. “Yeah. It’s annoying. Wanna hit District instead?”

Scott cut him a look. “Like District wouldn’t be jam-packed, too. Besides, we just fucking got here.”

Max rolled his eyes and took a swig off his longneck. “We’ve been here long enough to buy a beer and a whiskey.” He glanced at Scott’s hands. Scott’s empty hands. “Why haven’t you ordered a drink?”

Back against the bar, Scott absently shrugged, his gaze sliding back to Tad’s table—for the fiftieth fucking time in five minutes.



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