“He’s good. Business as usual.”
“Just a party, right?” I can feel his eyes on me as I carefully layer the material snuggly against his skin. “Tell me if it’s too tight.”
“Why are you going along with this?”
I pause and meet his silvery depths, which threaten to pull me under and dart my eyes away. When I make my decision, I need to be far away from the two distractions that will only make it harder to step away. “I’m not sure if I am yet.”
“I didn’t think you were the type.”
“I’m not, it’s just as surprising to me, if you want the truth.”
“Always.”
One side of my mouth lifts as I carefully wrap his wrist and hand. “Says the deviant liar.”
“Some people can’t handle the truth,” he drains the rest of his beer. “It’s best to let them count sheep.”
“Always so cryptic.”
“You’re smart enough to decipher truth from fiction.”
I pause my hands. “I’m not so sure after tonight, but that’s a rare compliment coming from you.”
“I don’t let my dick get in the way of my judgment.”
Our gazes hold for long seconds as I draw more conclusions. They both made the decision to bring me in tonight. Together. It has nothing to do with our sexual relationship. The feelings that stir because of that make my heart sing.
“You can trust me,” I say, securing the metal teeth on the bandage.
“It’s a lot to ask.”
“So is keeping your secrets.”
“You don’t know my secrets.”
“I know what I think I know, and that’s plenty.”
“And what do you think you know?”
The last few hours I’ve been staring at Sean’s ceiling sorting through his subtle teachings of the last six weeks. He incorporated the ‘club’s’ beliefs into our courting and did so in the most effective of ways, spoon-feeding me until I knew what they collectively stood for, without directly coming out and saying it.
“That you’re high up in an organization of backroads’ misfits who do bad deeds to carry out good ones.”
I’m not at all surprised when my answer is silence.
“So, what happens now?”
He reads my question, and it has nothing to do with tonight’s discovery.
“I’m not Sean.”
“Meaning?”
“I don’t do these talks.” He drains his beer as I secure the teeth a little tighter on his bandage. “But I could use a shower.” I’m not sure what he’s implying. He clearly needs my help undressing due to the injury, but I’m unwilling to go any further until I figure out what I need to.
He stands and awkwardly grabs another beer from the fridge. He uses the edge of the counter to pop off the cap and downs it like water before moving toward the stairs, and timidly I follow. Once inside his room, I glance around taking advantage of the peek into his world. Hundreds of books line the shelves next to his fully loaded space station with giant monitors. Next to it on a small table are three charging laptops. The pained grunt echoing from the next room deters me from taking more of a curious look around, and I meet him where he stands in the bathroom toeing off his boots. He bends to rip his sock off and loses his footing, his beer bottle clinking against the counter as he tries to brace himself. I laugh, steadying his hips with my hands, and between our efforts, he remains upright. He gives me a lazy half-smile, his eyes going glassy. “Fuck, my left hand really needs my right.”
“I’m sure the alcohol you sucked down didn’t help. We should have iced it first,” I free him from his other sock.