This is a game. I’m not supposed to be imagining what life would be like with all of these men as a part of it. I’m not supposed to be slipping into fantasies where they were all my boyfriends, or where I had a harem like Luna’s.
It could never work. None of them have expressed any kind of interest in me outside of the game. Carl doesn’t even want to take part. I mean, who turns down the option of free sex if they actually want it?
We both stand linked together, panting as though we ran a relay race until my sweat has cooled and Aaron has pulled out. He doesn’t pull out a pocket square like his brother, but I forgive him. This isn’t a swanky club, and Aaron doesn’t strike me as a man who’d be bothered with aftercare.
But when he turns me in his arms, Aaron’s smirk and swagger are gone, and Kole is back in his place. His hand cups my cheek and smooths my hair, his eyes searching my face. “Are you okay? Was that okay?”
“I’m okay,” I say. “And it was more than okay.”
“Really? You liked it?”
“It was perfect.” The way his shoulders drop reveals how genuine his concern is. The way he kisses my lips gently stirs my heart. Between my legs, I feel wet and tender, and my knees are still trembly, but Kole is there to hold me up, helping me to adjust my dress.
“Perfect,” he repeats, smiling so broadly that one dimple dents his cheek in a completely adorable way. It draws my hand to cup his face and smile broadly too. “What would you like to do now? We can go back into the bar. Are you hungry?”
“No,” I say. “Not hungry at all, and that bar is a little noisier than I like. Maybe we could walk for a while?”
“You want to walk in those shoes?”
“I’m fine to walk in these shoes,” I laugh.
As we emerge from the alleyway, Kole slides his hand into mine. He’s so warm and strong, and it’s a gesture that feels protective. He’s showing anyone who might be looking that we’re together and that it wasn’t just a meaningless hook-up for a guy who just wants to tuck his dick back in his pants and walk away without a backward glance.
It’s a gesture that stirs my heart.
We walk and talk about everything from our favorite meals—his is barbeque ribs, and mine is my momma’s lasagna, to our favorite bands and even the books we’ve read and loved. I find out things about Kole that I wasn’t expecting at all.
And at the end of the evening, I’m sad that it’s coming to an end.
One more down. Three more to go.
But I don’t want to think about that because then it’ll be over, and I have no idea how I’m going to face that.
22
NASH
"Are you serious?" I say as Carl finishes telling me about our most recent franchisee, who's been arrested for selling drugs out of the shop.
"I'm serious. I mean, the lawyers did all the background checks that are required, but nothing showed up. Either it's a first-time offense, or he's never been caught before."
"Or maybe he's used a fake identity."
"That's an option too."
"So, what's going to happen?"
"Fuck knows. It's just another heap of bullshit that I didn't need right now."
"It's not all on your shoulders, dude. You know that we're all here to deal with this stuff. That's what a partnership is all about."
Carl's shoulders slump as he fiddles with the label on his bottle of beer. "And my brother has been giving me shit too. He's asking for money again."
"I thought he had that new job…the one that was going to make him a truckload of commission."
"Yeah, it turns out it wasn't, or at least, he didn't put in the work to make the money he was hoping for. Now he's overstretched himself, and he wants me to bail him out."
I take a long drag of ice-cold beer and shake my head. Carl's brother has been dragging him down since we were kids. I know it's harsh, but sometimes people are born with the leech instinct. Their whole lives are about looking to see who else is doing well and finding a way to climb on the back of that success. Carl is a decent and hard-working man. It doesn't seem fair that he's constantly dealing with his brother’s financial issues.
"You know you need to cut him off cold. This has gone on long enough. You don't owe anything to a man who doesn't think he owes anything to himself. If you keep enabling him, he's always going to be lurking over your shoulder."
"I know. I know. I told myself last time that I wouldn't do it again."
"As I remember it, you also told him that it was his last bailout."