I winked. “Wouldn’t you like to know?”
He went to the next, then the next, but every one he chose, I found something wrong with them. “Jesus, Rams, you’re trying to suck some cock, not marry someone.”
“I’m picky, what can I say?”
“Stalkers only need apply?” he teased, referring to my ex.
Actually, my dick was currently on the Garrett-McRae-only train, and I needed to find a way to get off it. “Pick another one,” I said, just as someone slipped onto the open stool beside me.
He had blond hair, wide blue eyes, and dark lashes. His mouth was fucking hot, all plump lips, which then made me think of Garrett’s bruised lip from my teeth.
“Can I buy you a drink?” he asked, giving me an appraising look, so I knew just what he was looking for, which apparently was me. This wasn’t a bro thing; this was an I-want-to-fuck thing. Garrett had been right about the anchor-stare method because Blondy used it on me.
A hand came down on my shoulder, squeezing, before Garrett slid out of the seat. Where the fuck was he going?
“Umm…yeah. That’d be cool.” That’d be cool? I sounded like an eighteen-year-old virgin.
Blondie signaled for the bartender and ordered two more whiskeys.
“I’m Bailey.”
“Warner,” I replied. Even the media called me Ramsey, so it felt safer to use my first name.
“Nice to meet you, Warner. I haven’t seen you around before. I definitely would have noticed.”
I shrugged. The guy was fucking hot, but I was pretty sure this wasn’t happening. It felt like too much of a risk. When I came out, I wanted it to be on my terms, and how the hell did I know if this guy realized who I was? Or what if he did later, and all of a sudden the league would be talking about me getting blown in a bathroom stall by some dude? Even though there were a few out guys in the league, it was still always something that was discussed in a way it wasn’t with het couples or hookups.
Still, I didn’t want to be a dick. “You from around here?” I asked.
“Yep. Hence why I know I haven’t seen you here before.”
Shit. That was a dumb question. “What do you do?”
Bailey started rambling about tech stuff I had zero interest in, and I couldn’t help spinning my stool around and scanning the crowd for Garrett. Where the fuck had he gone?
Bailey did the same, the two of us drinking slowly, him rambling and not seeming to notice I wasn’t interested. It was a good thing he excelled at talking about himself so I didn’t need to add much input— “What the fuck?” I said softly.
“What’s wrong?”
Garrett was dancing…with a guy, who had his ass against Garrett’s groin, feeling the dick that had been against me just a little while ago. And Garrett was running his hands up and down the guy’s chest like his lip wasn’t swollen from my bite.
Discomfort pooled in my gut before turning into thick lava that rose until it filled my chest. The guy turned and kissed Garrett’s neck, and G’s hands were on his hips like they had been on mine, and…oh God. Was I jealous? I was going to kick his fucking ass. I couldn’t believe I wanted him that much, but I did.
“I gotta go,” I told Brandon…Bailey…whatever the fuck his name was. I set my drink down, then handed him some cash so I wasn’t a complete asshole.
Garrett’s gaze landed on me as I worked my way through the crowd. He was still touching the guy, rubbing him and tilting his head so the guy could make out with his neck. But the whole time, that feeling in my chest was mirrored in his eyes.
“Let’s go,” I said the second I reached him.
“Say please.”
“You’re such a brat. Let’s go. Please.” I was too annoyed to even argue with him.
Garrett kissed the guy on the cheek, and then the two of us made our way to the door. We were silent like we had been when we came in, me leading, Garrett following. I didn’t know what the fuck I was doing, or where I was going, or why I suddenly wanted him so much, it was hard to breathe. Yeah, I’d always been attracted to him. He amused the shit out of me. I loved how he never stopped giving me hell, but this craving for him was different.
The second we were around the backside of the building, alone in an alley that, unfortunately, stank like trash, I pushed him against the wall and took his mouth with mine.
8
GARRETT
There I was, straggling after Ramsey out of the club and trying to suss out his sudden desire to bail—had the guy he was talking to pissed him off? Been a prick? Been pushy?—when he whirled around on me, a feverish intensity in his eyes.