Over and Back, page 7
Grant snickered when Hank finished the rhyme. The others laughed out loud as Grant bumped Hank’s shoulder, and danged if they didn’t share a quick glance that left a slight tent in his swim trunks under the table.
They played for a couple of hours, with much of Grant’s tiredness slipping away. Hank kept glancing at him, and more than once he’d been caught looking himself. The light started to fade, and the nearby restaurant began serving dinner. Something didn’t seem right when people in nice clothes walked by for their meals while they were still shirtless and in bathing suits, laughing hysterically at a particular witty answer. Zach declared the next round the last one, and then they counted up their cards. Bull was pronounced the winner by quite a wide margin. He grinned, and everyone helped Zach put the cards away before heading into the hotel to change.
Up in the room, Grant told Hank to use the bathroom, and he changed in the room, setting his now mostly dry suit aside to hang up. He bent over his bag as Hank stepped out. Grant groaned and grabbed for the towel to cover himself.
“I’m sorry,” Hank said quickly, and the bathroom door closed again. Grant felt a blush bloom on his cheeks and spread over his entire body. He pulled on his underwear and then some shorts before telling Hank to come out again. “I didn’t know, and….”
“It’s okay.” Grant pulled on a plain blue T-shirt, wishing the floor would open up and swallow him whole.
“Are you shy?” Hank teased a little, probably trying to make him feel better.
“I sure as heck know you aren’t,” Grant countered. “That bathing suit….” He had to admit that he hadn’t gotten tired of seeing Hank in it. “Look, it’s okay. I probably should have just waited for you to get done.” He grabbed his swimsuit to get out from under Hank’s gaze and to have something to do. He hung it up in the bathroom and ran a comb through his hair, needing a few minutes to think.
Hank was stunning and, it turned out, a lot nicer than Grant had thought he was. Not that he had any intention of acting on any of that, no matter how smoking hot Hank was. Sure, Grant had caught him looking a few times, but a skinny, small guy like him was not really going to be able to capture the attention of a hunky guy like Hank. If there was any heat between them, it was probably because they were on a tour with four other couples who were so much in love, it could make a sweet shop jealous. No, they were roommates, and they could probably become friends. For now, that was enough. The last strong man, like Hank, that he’d gone out with…. Grant felt the scar on his wrist. No, he wasn’t going back there again.
Grant had issues of his own. Things with Timothy hadn’t been all Timothy’s fault—Grant knew that. But still, he was having trouble trusting people again. Grant had put his trust in Timothy, but when Grant had needed something different, he didn’t know how to say anything. And when he had, Timothy hadn’t listened. He’d fallen back on his usual behavior and thought Grant was only testing their limits. That had led to further strain in the relationship, which only added more and more stress. Before long, Grant hadn’t been able to take it anymore.
His hand shook, and he set the comb on the counter, closing his eyes, glad he was alone so no one could see him nearly breaking down. Grant thought he’d dealt with all this, that he’d moved on, but it was pretty obvious that wasn’t the case.
“Are you okay in there?” Hank asked through the door after rapping lightly.
“Yes,” Grant managed to answer, hoping to hell Hank couldn’t tell how fucking close to tears he was. “Just a second.” He took a deep breath, put his things away, wiped some cold water on his eyes with a cloth, and then opened the door. He hurried by Hank, went to his side of the room, and lay down on the bed, using the pillow to hide his face. At least he could pretend he was tired, though he knew he was taking the coward’s way out. He needed to figure out what was going on and why he was so damned nervous around Hank. Nothing had happened between them, and Hank wasn’t the kind of guy to force himself on anyone. So as long as Grant remained friendly but didn’t do any more, he should be fine.
“Grant, I just got a message from Bull. There is a restaurant a short walk away, and they thought we’d go there for dinner. If you want to go, they’re meeting in the lobby in half an hour.”
“Thanks,” Grant said, trying to sound sleepy. Maybe the answer was to spend some time alone so he could work through this shit that had suddenly bubbled to the surface. He rolled onto his side and then slid his feet to the floor, sitting up. “Do you know where everyone else is now?”
“They’re heading up to the concierge level. Apparently there are drinks and appetizers—it’s included with the rooms. They said to come on up if we wanted.”
“You can go up,” Grant said, but Hank didn’t answer. He just leaned on the wall near the bathroom, watching him. It should have made Grant uncomfortable—things like that usually did—but this didn’t. He liked it.
Grant changed his mind and decided to go along. He put his shoes on and followed Hank out of the room and to the top floor. Hank used the room key to enter, and all they had to do was follow the laughter to the large table where everyone was gathered, minus Spook. Grant caught Bull’s eye, intending to ask where he was, but a small shake of his head killed the question before it could be asked.
“There are some appies over there, and around the corner, they have drinks,” Tristan explained, lifting his glass of sparkling wine.
“Do you want a diet soda?” Hank asked. “I’ll bring you one.”
“Thanks.” Grant sat down and listened as the others talked excitedly about what they expected to see tomorrow.
“The tour isn’t until noon. I thought we could have a late lunch in Rome afterward. I haven’t anything booked. We’ll just find a place. There are apparently plenty of them,” Zach said, obviously still in tour guide mode. “I was looking over the guidebook, and one recommendation was to bring an umbrella if you have one. There is little to no shade, so it might be a good idea to make your own.”
“We’re meeting at ten thirty?” Tristan asked as Hank sat down next to Grant, handing him a glass of ice and a bottle of Diet Pepsi.
“Yes. We’re walking to the subway. We can get tickets in the machines at the station, so you’ll need cash. The guidebook says the machines offer English, so we can figure it out. Bring something to drink or at least a water bottle. There are public drinking fountains throughout the city.”
“Anything else we should know?” Hank asked as Grant filled his glass.
“Just remember that it’s going to be hot and the areas we’re touring have no trees. Sunscreen and all that are going to be essential.” Zach raised his sparkling wine, and the others raised their glasses as well.
“To a great trip,” Harry offered as a toast. “And to Zach for pulling everything together.”
Everyone clinked glasses, offered their agreement, and then drank.
“I’m so excited, I hope I can sleep tonight.” Grant drank some of his soda, but went easy with it. The stuff was loaded with caffeine, which could keep him up.
“You will,” Hank offered, and patted his hand lightly. “Just relax and enjoy yourself. This is our vacation. There’s no pressure for anything. We’re going to see amazing stuff.”
He smiled, and Grant returned it, letting go of some of the anxiety that had plagued him for the last few hours. Hank was being nice to him. It was stupid to jump to the wrong conclusions and assume he wanted more. Truthfully, Hank watched him, and he was super hot, but that only increased the likelihood that he wasn’t going to be interested in Grant. After all, judging by his own track record and the way guys at the club glommed on to him, he appealed to a certain type of guy, and those were no longer the kind of men he wanted interested in him. He just had to let it go and have fun. Trying to find someone special wasn’t in the cards for him right now, and he could deal with that. At least, that’s what he told himself.
“When are we leaving for dinner?”
Bull checked the time. “In about fifteen minutes,” he answered.
Grant excused himself and went out into the lobby area to use his phone. He needed to talk to someone, and the therapist who helped him after his suicide attempt was someone he knew he could get clear, nonjudgmental advice from.
“Simon Goldblatt’s office.”
“Lois, can I please speak to him if he isn’t in conference? This is Grant Bannerman.” His heart raced. He hoped Simon could help him out.
“I’ll see if he’s in,” she said.
“Please tell him I’m calling from Rome,” he added hastily, and a few seconds later, Simon came on the line.
“What’s wrong, Grant? Aren’t you on vacation?”
“Yes, and I’m sharing a hotel room, just as roommates, with someone who’s… well, he’s really hot. But I’m scared. He’s nice to me and thoughtful.” At least, he had been on the trip. Things were turning out so differently than Grant had expected. He turned toward the glass door as Hank passed, watching to catch his gaze and smile before moving on. “I think he’s looking out for me. It’s complicated, but I thought he didn’t like me for a long time, and now he’s been nice and he keeps watching me and….”
“Okay,” Simon said calmly. “You know there’s nothing wrong with being attracted to someone.”
“Yeah.”
“Have you talked to him? I mean, really talked to him. If you like him, there’s no need to circle each other the way we all did in high school. It’s perfectly acceptable to talk about things. If you like him, tell him.”
Grant nodded his head, even though Simon couldn’t see it. “I know that. But we haven’t spent a lot of time together. Isn’t that going a little fast?”
“And getting yourself upset and frightened over something that hasn’t happened yet is getting ahead of yourself as well, isn’t it?” Simon had a way of asking questions that got to the heart of things. “If he’s just a roommate, then have a good time on your trip and enjoy yourself. But ask yourself, if this truly develops into something more, what are you afraid of?”
Grant swallowed hard. “That things will end up like they did with Timothy.”
“This man that you’re traveling with isn’t Timothy. And you know what mistakes you made before, so you won’t repeat them. My advice is to relax and don’t worry about what hasn’t happened yet. You and I have been talking about the possibility of you meeting someone for a while, right? You know how to handle it.”
Grant took a deep breath. “Yes. I remember.” It came back to him. “But I don’t understand why I’m panicking.” He had to get this under control.
Simon chuckled gently. “That’s the easiest question of the day. Because you really like this guy, and you hope he likes you. I think you want things to be different, but you’re scared that they won’t be. That’s healthy and probably normal. So give yourself a break. We can be so afraid of repeating our mistakes that we miss out on possible opportunities.”
Grant nodded, and the knot in his chest loosened. “Okay. I’ll try to do that. Thank you for taking my call. I appreciate it.”
“Anytime. You have a good time, and when you get back, you have to tell me all about your trip.” He ended the call, and Grant put his phone in his pocket as the others joined him.
“Ready for dinner?” Jeremy asked as he hurried over and took Grant’s arm. “Are you okay? Did something happen?”
“I’m okay. I needed to talk to someone for a few minutes.” He tried to make light of it, but that call had been important. He had been overreacting, that’s all. He needed to learn how to go with the flow.
Hank found his gaze as the elevator doors slid open, and when they all crammed inside, Grant ended up standing next to him, their sides touching. It might have been the nine people in the elevator, but the temperature rocketed upward as they rode down, and when the door opened, it didn’t seem to diminish. Grant barely heard the dings for the floors, his attention was so focused on Hank’s touch.
“Is Spook meeting us there?” Grant asked Jeremy. He needed to talk to someone other than Hank right now.
“Yes. Lowell said he had something to do.” Jeremy shrugged. “He didn’t tell me what it was, and I’ve gotten used to him having his secrets… at least about stuff like this.”
“Jeremy,” Bull said with more than a hint of caution in his voice.
Jeremy rolled his eyes and didn’t say anything more. But he did glare back at Bull and then put his hands on his hips. Bull huffed, and Grant had to stop himself from smiling. That was the first time he’d seen anyone, except maybe Zach, getting the better of Bull in a staring contest. Bull was intimidating; hell, he sure had that effect on Grant.
Jeremy held his arm as they walked toward the doors. The outside air hit them like a wall of heat. Even this late, it was still hot. They didn’t go very far and soon approached a small restaurant filled with locals speaking Italian. The interior was cool and surprisingly fresh. The man who greeted them spoke a little English and led them to a large table against the side wall. Grant sat across from Hank, with an empty place next to him for Spook.
Bull ordered water for the table, and they all settled in to look at the menu, which was strictly in Italian. For Grant, that meant picking out the few words he knew, combined with food terms that were familiar, and adding a little hope that he wasn’t too far off.
The entire place smelled of rich food, with garlic, oregano, basil, and onion hanging in the air like gustatory perfume, ready to entice. Grant watched as dishes were brought to a neighboring table, and immediately his stomach rumbled at the sight and scent of fresh pesto. It was one of his favorite sauces, and what they’d brought looked amazing.
“I am Leonardo. Can I help you this evening?” The waiter spoke formally, and Grant got the idea that he was probably the person in the restaurant who spoke the most English.
Spook approached the table and slid into the chair next to him and across from Jeremy, meeting Bull’s gaze and nodding once. Grant watched both of them as they seemed to communicate with each other through looks and stares.
“He’s starting to take our orders,” Jeremy said as he handed Spook his menu, breaking the moment.
“I’d like the pesto,” Grant said, motioning to the next table. “And the….” He pointed at what he thought was piccata and hoped for the best.
Leonardo slowly went around the table and returned to Spook, who pronounced what he wanted with ease.
“You speak Italian?” Grant asked.
Spook handed the server his menu and thanked him. “I understand French and Spanish. There is just enough crossover, along with English, that I can read and partially understand it.” He took a sip of his water, seeming to be calm, but Grant noticed that Spook’s hands fidgeted in his lap when they weren’t on the table.
Zach huffed, patting Bull on the hand. “You two may as well tell us what’s going on. We know something is. And since this is all of our vacation, we deserve to know.” He was clearly a little pissed off.
Bull turned to Spook, who nodded. “I agree.” There was still some silent communication, and Grant got the idea that they were about to get the condensed version of what was really happening.
“When we were in the airport today, I got a message from an old contact that a past associate of Bull’s and mine had just arrived in Rome.” Spook turned to him. “You met him in the club, and he followed you in Harrisburg.”
“What does he want?” Grant asked, and Spook leaned forward, seeming to catch Bull’s eye.
“He was a colleague of mine in a former life. And not someone I was hoping to ever set eyes on again.” Bull picked up his water. “I’d heard some time ago that he had died, but apparently that was false. Like a bad penny, he’s turned up again.”
“But what does he want?” Zach asked.
“We aren’t sure,” Spook answered. “But it’s nothing to worry about. Bull and I will handle this. If any of you see him, quietly let one of us know, and we’ll take it from there. Don’t confront him or seek him out. Let one of us handle this.”
Grant figured that was their way of trying to comfort them, but it wasn’t working, as far as he was concerned. “Do you know his real name?” Grant asked.
“Yes. I’ve been able to determine his real name. He uses a number of aliases… or at least he did, but his birth name is Jarrod Belton.”
Grant swallowed hard and did his best to breathe normally. Maybe he hadn’t heard correctly. There were plenty of people named Belton in the world. Maybe this guy wasn’t related to his ex. Grant knew he was grasping at straws to try to hold his fear at bay.
“…I was contacting some old friends to see if they’d heard anything. It took a little longer than I expected, but I got back here in time.” Spook seemed relaxed and confident, but if half the rumors were true, Spook had done many things in his former life that would probably curl Grant’s hair. So appearing calm was normal for him.
The first courses started coming out from the kitchen, and the conversation shifted to tomorrow and the things they were going to see.
“What about Hadrian’s column?”
“I heard there’s Michelangelo’s Moses. Will we have time to see that?”
“We’re going to see David in Florence. Best butt in marble.” All of the guys snickered as they nodded.
“And the Trevi Fountain, the Pantheon, and the Spanish Steps,” Zach told the others. “With a Sistine Chapel at the end. We should be able to see all of that by the end of our stay.” It was like some kind of code, and Grant tried to keep up, but they chattered at a speed that boggled the mind. He only caught parts of the conversation since he was at the far end of the table.
“I heard that the snake is biting the devil’s bits.” Jeremy’s comment cut right through the conversation.
“Everything okay?” Hank asked, leaning a little over the table. Grant nodded. “You know, sometimes I feel a little on the outside too. These guys all know each other so well.”
