Heart rattling in his ears, Jamie followed Kurt to the low couches where his friends were seated in a darker area lit with flickering candles. There was one man slightly younger than Kurt…and another guy who appeared much younger and wouldn’t meet anyone’s eyes. Everyone shook hands and Kurt gestured for Jamie to sit down—in a spot on the opposite couch from Marcus. Jamie and Marcus stared at each other for a heavy beat and they took their seats, watching each other across the stainless steel block serving as a table.
“So, I hope you don’t mind,” Kurt said, sending an affable wave at the waitress. “I kind of read between the lines when you called and asked to bring your friend.” He nodded subtly at the younger man sitting to the left of Marcus. “My nephew, Adam, is in a similar situation and I thought they’d be made comfortable in each other’s presence. He’s not ready for anything serious, but I thought maybe they could form a friendship?”
Jamie gave a jerky nod, but his mouth had gone dry. Stop, asshole. This is what you wanted. He’d brought Marcus along for exactly this kind of interaction. There was virtually no pressure and Kurt’s nephew was in the same boat. Struggling. Marcus could probably benefit from meeting Adam more that he could benefit from spending time with Jamie.
“Did I overstep?”
Kurt had obviously misconstrued Jamie’s silence for disapproval, so he shook his head. “No, I think that was a great idea.”
But five minutes later when Marcus and Adam starting talking, a chord of jealousy was plucked in Jamie’s stomach and it resonated, growing louder. Louder. He tried to focus on his conversation with Kurt—something about Long Beach real estate prices—but every few minutes, Marcus would glance over at Jamie with an unreadable expression and he’d lose his train of thought.
Needing to do something proactive so he wouldn’t ask to speak to Marcus outside and wear the fucking face off him with a kiss, Jamie ordered a round of drinks from the waitress. When he normally would have drunk a beer, Jamie put away a tumbler of whiskey in short order and asked for another one. Was it his imagination or had Adam and Marcus moved closer on the couch?
He was so preoccupied with what was happening on the other side of the table, Jamie barely noticed when Kurt laid a hand on his knee, without breaking stride in their conversation. It was almost conspiratorial, friendly, and Jamie was too focused on the proximity between Adam and Marcus to react. What was a hand on the knee when his stomach felt like it was being twisted in a fist?
From the opposite couch, Marcus’s eyes snagged on Kurt’s hand and his big chest heaved once. Twice. He plowed his fingers through his dirty-blond hair and stood abruptly, his shins hitting the coffee table and rattling the drinks.
The waitress arrived with their next round, blocking Marcus from view. With his labored breathing echoing in his ear, Jamie waited, waited for her to move, so he could see Marcus again. But when she moved after what felt like an hour, he was gone. Marcus was gone.
“Hey,” Jamie shouted above the music, lunging to his feet and dislodging Kurt’s hand in the process. He pointed at the empty spot beside Adam. “Where did he go?”
Adam’s laugh was uncomfortable, probably because Jamie was yelling like a lunatic. “He asked me to give you this.” Adam held out a fist full of crumpled money that somehow Jamie knew belonged to Marcus. Even before Adam said, “He wants you to get a cab home. No train, please, he said.”
Jamie was hollowed out in one scoop.
Marcus had left.
“Fuck. I have to go. Sorry,” Jamie said, already jogging toward the bar area. If he hurried, he would catch Marcus. He had to catch him. His abrupt departure couldn’t really be over Kurt putting a hand on Jamie’s knee?
Oh yes, it could. It absolutely could. This whole night had felt wrong because he’d brought Marcus out in the company of a man who was interested in Jamie. Adam had potentially shown the same kind of interest in Marcus.
They’d sat there and watched each other attempt connections with other people—and it had been…wow. So shitty. If Jamie thought being kept a secret made him feel slimy, nothing compared to tonight. Sitting across from the man he’d fallen for and letting another man touch him, even in the smallest capacity. All while watching Marcus try. For him.
“Idiot,” Jamie gritted out, hating himself. “You fucking idiot.”
Jamie let out a sound as he burst out onto the street, frantically scanning the sidewalk in both directions for a giant in gray, but Marcus was nowhere. He was gone. Panic beginning to set in, Jamie shoved the money he was still holding into his pocket and took out his phone to call Marcus. It went straight to voicemail.