“There was a scuffle, and the other guy got violent, but he’s gone now,” Ros lied without batting an eyelash, still petting Shane’s side in a way that felt familiar and tender, and was rocket fuel for the fire of Shane’s hope. “Can you take over at the bar?”
The girl rolled her eyes, but looked around and shrugged. “Yeah, fine. But you’ll cover for me if the creep with the Cadillac T-shirt comes back. Even if I call on your day off.”
Shane assumed bartending staff, especially in a hellhole like this one, would be more used to dealing with advances from rowdy patrons, but he didn’t care what the girl’s story was when Ros was there, touching him, and ready to assess Shane for injuries. Would he check for bruises under his clothes too?
He whimpered when a lock of shortened hair brushed against his cheekbone but rose as Ros prompted him with a pull at the arm. “Yes. I think… I think ice would help.”
“Come with me,” Ros said and pushed his shoulder against Shane, as if he expected having to carry some of his weight.
This had been far from Shane’s worst fight, and he was perfectly capable of walking on his own, but if pity made the boy touch him, he’d milk the hell out of it. He could sense the remaining patrons watching his shameful exit, but the unease Shane felt over showing weakness was alleviated the moment Ros led him through the door behind the bar counter.
Away from prying eyes, he wrapped his arm around Shane’s waist in a more intimate gesture that Shane wanted to last forever.
“What were you thinking?”
Shane rolled his eyes, but didn’t reject the help, and put his arm on Rosen’s shoulder as they entered a small kitchen that smelled of burnt fat and vegetables that had been left outside for a bit too long. Paradiso didn’t serve any hot food, but maybe the staff used this place to prepare their meals?
“He was coming onto you.”
“Yeah, and I would have handled it, though—” Ros exhaled, looking away. “I wasn’t expecting it, actually. In a place like this, men don’t usually hit on me. Sit here.” Ros pulled a little stool closer to a steel counter that had fingerprints on it but seemed clean otherwise.
“He was being pushy,” Shane insisted, but parked his ass on the hard seat and watched Rosen’s pert butt twitch under the denim when he turned to the fridge.
“Well, some people are like that, aren’t they? Pushy fuckers who follow you to your room and give you the best night of your life, only to then turn into monsters.”
“Fair. I deserve that. I’m not saying that didn’t happen. What I need to know is how the fuck can I make up for it?” Shane snapped, his patience rubbed raw. Whenever Ros said things like that, Shane felt as though he was about to fall down a shaft with no end. No solution. No redemption. And it fucking sucked.
Ros grabbed a bag filled with ice cubes, wrapped it in a towel and even though he could have just handed it to Shane, he pressed it to his swelling face himself. He was so close Shane could have pulled him forward and put his cheek against the boy’s hot stomach. But he paced himself. This time he needed to think of future outcomes, not immediate pleasure.
Ros’s eyes were like ice needles pushing into Shane’s flesh. “Why do you want to? Be honest with me. So I was fun in bed and I’m your type. But you wouldn’t be here if it was just that, so I’m listening.”
Shane had been asking himself the same thing. Why be so hung up on Rosen when there was no shortage of pretty boys with willing mouths and asses on Grindr? The answer lay in the gentle way Ros held the ice against his face. In the way he’d taken Shane’s side during the confrontation with Bill and lied for him. In the way he’d sought Shane out for Thanksgiving, coming to him, all trusting and in need of affection.
He might have the prettiest face with big blue eyes and a large nose Shane loved to kiss, but his appearance held barely any meaning in the equation of why Shane so desperately wanted him back. Ros cared for him in a way not even Frank did, and had been so ready to accept Shane’s baggage after finding out about his time in prison and what Shane did for a living. It had been reckless of him, and the very reason why Ros had fallen into Shane’s trap, but if Rosen decided to take Shane back, he’d always have someone to protect him from the fallout of naivete.
Rosen’s conviction to stay afloat without Daddy’s money was admirable, but he wasn’t cut out for a life this rough, and he needed Shane’s help more than his pride allowed him to admit. Or maybe it was Shane who truly needed him?