“I’m fine, Jax,” God groaned.
“Shut up and lie back. I’m not going back to Leonidis without an accurate report that you’re fine,” Jax said while pulling out his stethoscope.
God mumbled some curse words as he positioned himself on the bed. He answered all of Jax’s questions and let the man wrap his bruised ribs. Jax told him he was fine and his lungs sounded clear. He gave him some more pain pills and cough suppressant just in case. He also told God to rest over the weekend and he should be good to go to work on Monday.
He held the door for the short man. Jax and Leo were about the same height. His hair was in a simple buzz cut with neatly trimmed sideburns that stopped at the bottoms of his earlobes. God had a hard time looking into Jax’s beautiful hazel eyes, so similar to his partner’s. Jax shook his hand in a firm grip, surely firmer than needed, and God got the message. He quirked his lip up at Jax’s protectiveness over his little brother, he knew what that feeling was like.
As soon as Jax was gone, God grabbed his cell phone and texted his partner. He thought for a second on what to send, but only two words came to mind. He typed, I’m sorry, and pressed Send. God only had to wait a few seconds before his phone buzzed with a return message. God opened it, and Leo had two words, too. God read Leo’s response, Fuck you.
God laughed heartily as he stared at the two words with an angry-faced emoji symbol after it. Day was the only one that could make God laugh like that. Oh, you’re gonna make me work for this one, aren’t you, sweetheart? God climbed under the sheets, naked, and forced his mind to relax. He’d go get his man tomorrow.
Screw Your Apology
Day looked at God’s weak-assed apology text. Day didn’t care about a fucking text. He wanted God here on his knees begging for forgiveness. After Jax told him that God was fine and he looked very sorry for what he’d done, Day could think about nothing else.
Tomorrow was Saturday. Usually he and God would go work out, sometimes go to the shooting range, they’d do whatever they felt like doing. Then in the evening Day would cook and God would do or fix whatever Day needed him to around the house.
Damn, when I think about it, we sound so damn domesticated already.
Day tried to do things to keep him from going crazy with thoughts. He was an insomniac. It was only midnight now, what the hell could he do—short of taking sleeping pills—to calm himself enough to sleep.
“Fuck it. I’m not going to sit around here waiting like some lovesick girl who got dismissed by her guy. There’s plenty of dick in the sea.” Day lifted one brow at what he’d just said. “That made no sense.”
Day showered and shaved as quickly as possible. He put a little product in his hair and ran his hands through it to make it look perfectly messy. He wore his well-worn, tight jeans and a button-down, tan collared shirt. He applied a small amount of cologne—Day never liked men that over did it with fragrances. He put his cell phone in his back pocket, his 9mm in the small of his back, and tucked his badge on the inside of his coat.
Day opened up his garage and straddled his Harley, revving the engine a few times to relish the vibration between his legs before he took off into the night in search of some fun. Day got on the interstate and opened her up, doing ninety miles per hour toward midtown. There was a cool sports bar on Piedmont that catered to men with specific sexual preferences. There wasn’t a night Day went that he didn’t get lucky.
Day parked his bike with all the other crotch rockets and strolled toward the entrance. He could hear the loud cheering on the inside before he even got to the door. He quickly shook hands with the familiar bouncer at the front and opened the large wood door. The crowd was rowdy and the party was in full swing.
Some people were dancing to the soft rock that blasted from the large speakers in the corner. Others were playing pool while watching various sports on the multitude of flat screens positioned around the bar. Day ignored those activities. Duff's was only open until two so that meant he had one hour to secure his date for the evening. There was a hotel by the hour just up the street, Day didn’t even have to move his bike if he didn’t want to.
He perched next to a man that from the back had a very small frame, tight waist, and bubble ass. When Day ordered his Coors Light draft, the man turned fully and looked in his direction. He gave the man a slight wink and watched those glossy lips curve up into a seductive smile. Lip-gloss didn’t really turn Day on but it usually got wiped off while he was receiving head, so no big deal. The guy was cute though. Sweet, doe-like brown eyes, his hair was spiky with dark roots and blonde tips.