Cole, page 15
This was an aggressive sport and rivalries were a thing. I’d probably never know what had sparked the one between Deacon and Smitty.
I wasn’t so sure I wanted to know.
My conversation with Smitty stuck with me. Not the part where he and Deacon shot daggers out their eyes at each other, since God knew that was nothing new. No, it was the part about how Smitty went with escorts because his relationships were so shitty. Even now, as I was relaxing in bed with Cole that evening, my teammate’s words kept needling at me.
I’d never been happy with avoiding sex and relationships for so long. I’d envied my classmates and teammates who’d clumsily dated and screwed their way into young adulthood. Making it into my mid-twenties without so much as a kiss had been frustrating as hell.
But I’d also made it this far without getting my heart stomped on. Was that why I was less jaded about—
“Hey.” Cole pushed himself up and met my gaze. “You still with me?”
I shook myself. “Yeah. Sorry.” I laughed softly, running my fingers through his damp hair. “Just thinking.”
His brow furrowed. He didn’t ask what I was thinking about, but he was obviously curious.
I exhaled. “One of my teammates—he referred me to Emerald City.” I told him what Smitty had said about relationships, and how he’d sworn them off. When I’d finished, I said, “I guess… I mean, I’ve never had one, you know? A relationship or a breakup. Of the three guys on my team who are into men, one is married, one is happy with his new boyfriend, and then there’s this guy. And it kind of makes me nervous about putting myself out there.”
“Because you don’t want to get your heart broken.”
“Does anyone?”
Cole’s eyes flicked away from mine, and he shook his head. “Nobody, no. Because it sucks.”
“Voice of experience?” I paused, making a face. “Of course you have experience. I’m the late bloomer.”
“There’s nothing wrong with that.” Cole ran the backs of his fingers along my arm. “And yeah, I have experience, but I haven’t been through things like what he went through. In fact, most of my breakups have been…” His eyes unfocused, then he chuckled. “Pretty chill, actually.”
“They have?”
Cole nodded. “I mean, there was one guy who was just awful.” He tsked and rolled his eyes. “Still can’t believe how heartbroken I was over getting dumped by that lying, cheating disaster of a human trash fire.”
I laughed. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry. Tell me how you really feel about him, dude.”
Chuckling, he shrugged. “I’m just saying. The guy was a douche. Don’t know what the hell I ever saw in—anyway, he’s old news. Besides him, though, I’m still friends with almost every man I ever dated. Like the guy I dated in college who was too afraid to get physical. We aren’t really in touch anymore since, I mean, life happens, but there was never anything nasty.”
“Oh. Wow. And you’re friends with the other guys?”
“Most of them, yeah.” He seemed to think about it for a moment. “Let’s see, there’s Bryce, who actually lives with me now. As a roommate, not a boyfriend. We just never saw each other because he was slammed with work and school, so it was hard to keep the relationship going. Liam and I dated for a few months, and hell if I can even remember why we broke up.” He paused. “Oh, and then there was this guy Kim, who I dated… four years ago? Five? I can’t even keep track anymore. Anyhow, he was leaving for Europe for a year, and the long-distance thing was just… ugh. No.”
“Yeah, that sounds tough,” I said. “I’ve got a teammate whose wife is still in Russia while they get all the immigration shit sorted out.” I grimaced. “They haven’t seen each other face to face in like a year.”
“Holy shit,” Cole said. “Not even during the off season?”
I shook my head. “They wanted to, but he had to have surgery and couldn’t travel, and then I guess her mom was really sick, and… Anyway. They’ve been trying like hell to see each other, but it hasn’t happened yet.”
“Do they know how long it’ll be before she comes over here?”
“Last I heard, it’ll be at least a few more months.”
Cole exhaled. “I don’t know how they do that. I mean, I could cope with being separated, but not if I never saw someone.”
“No kidding,” I said. “It sounds rough as hell. But your relationships have ended—I mean, I’m sure they weren’t easy, but you’re not as bitter as my teammate.”
“Nah, I’m not. Everyone has different experiences.” Cole studied me for a moment, and I couldn’t even try to read his expression. It was like there was something he wanted to say, but he wasn’t sure how. After a moment, he dropped his gaze to his hand, and he watched his fingers tracing little circles on my arm. Finally, he took a breath and looked at me. “I think everyone has to be cautious. No one wants to get hurt, but there are some absolute fuckers out there. And I wish I could tell you how to protect yourself from that and avoid them, but…” He shook his head. “I don’t even know.”
“Do you still date?”
He shrugged. “I’m open to it, but it’s hard to find people who are okay with dating a sex worker.”
“Oh. Damn, I hadn’t thought of that.”
Cole laughed almost soundlessly. “Neither did I, before I started with Emerald City. But it comes with the territory.” He chewed his lip. “I don’t really actively search for people. I figure when it happens…” Another shrug. “It happens.”
I nodded. “Yeah, that’s kind of what I’m thinking. Hell, I’m just now getting the hang of this side of things. I don’t know if I’m ready for…”
Cole smiled, though his eyes were oddly… sad? Was that right? I couldn’t figure it out. He reached up and caressed my face. “There’s no hurry. You’re not on anyone’s schedule but your own. When you’re ready…” The smile warmed a bit more. “Go for it.”
What is on your mind right now? Why is my heart going this fast?
I swallowed, then managed to smile too. “I’ll get there. I think I’m enjoying this, though.”
His expression softened. “Yeah?”
“Yeah.” I lifted my chin and brushed my lips across his. “We won’t be doing this forever, and I know that, but… What can I say? I’m enjoying it.”
He laughed quietly, and his eyes finally joined in. Sliding his hand into my hair, he whispered, “You won’t hear any complaints from me.”
“No complaints?” I grinned against his lips. “What about moans?”
Cole slid closer to me. “Pretty sure that could be arranged.”
“Yeah?”
“Oh yeah.”
Turned out he was right.
Chapter 18
Cole
Parker was on the road again, and it was Saturday night. I was restless and bored out of my mind, so I went out with Bryce and some of our friends. We debated a few options, and finally settled on Capitol OUT, a club up on Capitol Hill. This was Seattle’s gay neighborhood, and the clubs up here were awesome. They sounded like the perfect distraction from my boredom, especially since we’d managed to talk the guys into coming here instead of going to Wilde’s. Wilde’s was great and all, but Capitol OUT was a bit more low-key and not as much of a meat market. I mean, it was still a meat market, and I still had every intention of using it as one tonight, but it was more chill.
At a table at the edge of the dancefloor, I scanned the room. The crowd was thick tonight, and there were plenty of single men with hungry eyes. Perfect. No one had caught my attention yet, but the night was young and there was no shortage of options. I could be patient.
If we’d been at Wilde’s, this would’ve looked like the bar at a convention for underwear models. The guys Bryce and I modeled with? The ones who were scoring the big jobs and had their abs on TV and billboards? They went to Wilde’s, and even they had to work at it to get anyone’s attention. Fuck that.
Capitol OUT still had plenty of hot guys, but six-packs weren’t deal-breakers in here. Yeah, I had one, but my weight went up and down like everyone else’s, and I preferred being on the prowl in a place where I didn’t feel like I had to suck it in and flex just to get noticed.
And quite honestly, the superficiality of that shit was exhausting. Even if I just wanted a hookup like I did tonight, I didn’t feel the need to set my standards that high. Maybe I’d spent too much time in the fashion industry and as a sex worker, but I’d realized ages ago that beauty standards were overrated and a damn good way to overlook a lot of amazing men. All the guys who were convinced they needed someone off a men’s fitness magazine in order to be satisfied clearly weren’t sex workers. Otherwise, they would know just how little those things really mattered.
The Gentlemen had to keep ourselves in pristine shape because that was what our clients were looking for, but our clients were frequently types that some of these other guys would reject as not attractive enough. They’d swipe left without a second thought. The thing was, abs didn’t bestow magic blowjob skills. Flawless hair and golden tans didn’t touch my prostate. A perfect smile didn’t mean I’d be smiling at the end of the night. Meanwhile, I’d had my world rocked by men who thought their paunches, receding hairlines, or weak chins were deal-breakers.
Go ahead and swipe left, boys, I thought as I looked from one face to the next in the crowded club. Your loss is my gain.
Over the rim of my drink, I scoped out my various options.
Ooh, he’d look good with that perfectly arranged hair all messed up.
I’m pretty sure I hooked up with that guy before. Could be worth a second round.
Mmm, and he’s got a nice ass. Not as nice as Parker’s, though.
Wait, what?
Uh, I beg your pardon, brain?
I shook myself and took a deep swallow from my drink. Why was I comparing anyone here to Parker? To a client?
My phone buzzed. Usually I’d ignore it if I was in a club—I was here to dance, drink, and get laid, not text. This time, though, I was admittedly grateful for something to pull me away from mentally comparing every man in the room to a client.
And wouldn’t you know it—the text was from Parker.
We’d been texting back and forth all day, but a little rush of glee went through me anyway as I opened the message.
It was nothing exciting—just a response to a message I’d sent earlier asking him about tonight’s game. The game must’ve been over, then. Sounded about right, since they were in… Chicago, again? Or were they in Detroit this time? I had the Breakers’ schedule committed to memory, but I couldn’t always keep track of where they were playing or against whom.
I sent back an equally unexciting response and pocketed my phone. As I looked around, he was even more firmly planted in the center of my mind. The more I thought about it, the more I realized Parker had exactly the kind of physique that would have turned heads at Wilde’s. If he came strolling into Capitol OUT with fuck me eyes, men wouldn’t be standing in line for a chance with him—they’d be straight up brawling to get to him first.
And just thinking about that had me gripping my drink a little tighter. A swell of irrational jealousy made me grind my teeth.
What the hell?
Why was I jealous over a stupid hypothetical, and why was I so hung up on him instead of here, now, and all of them?
Ugh.
It wasn’t Parker’s body that kept pulling my focus away from the Capitol OUT crowd, either. Yeah, he was hot as hell and I’d never deny that, but a pretty face and a sexy ass weren’t enough to make me jealous if someone beat me to him. If he’d walked in here, and I’d never met him, I’d probably have a pang of disappointment if someone got to him faster. That was it, though.
So why did I get preemptively jealous from nothing more than imagining him walking in here and turning someone else’s head? Why did the thought of the entire room noticing him make my fists clench?
Jesus Christ on a pogo stick. What was wrong with me?
He’s a client, Cole. Remember?
He pays you for sex. Nothing more.
I brought my drink to my lips but barely tasted it.
Why is it so hard to think of him as just a client?
My phone buzzed again. I swallowed. Maybe that was the problem. We weren’t just talking during the time we spent together. There was also FaceTiming and texting when we were apart. That was definitely unusual.
I spent a lot of time talking with clients. That was half the reason they hired us—for some company and someone to talk to. But this felt different. I swore I knew Parker better than I knew any of my other clients, and he definitely knew me more than… Hell, he knew me better than some of my friends did.
So the smart thing to do would be to silence my phone and stop chatting with him, at least for this evening. Not, say, writing back, Congrats on the win! Hope your teammate’s ankle heals! :-/
Which I did.
As I was pocketing my phone again, someone appeared beside me, and when I turned, our eyes locked. From the way he smiled, he hadn’t just happened by—he’d come looking for me.
And whoa, he was pretty. He had a Mediterranean complexion and a smile that could have drawn anyone across a crowded room. I couldn’t quite make out what color his eyes were, but they were beautiful and mesmerizing.
“Hi,” he said. “You looked lonely.” He didn’t wink, but somehow it felt like he did.
I smiled back. “Oh, you know.” I gestured at the crowd with my drink. “Just checking out the scenery.”
“Uh-huh. I know how it is.” The way he looked me up and down raised goose bumps under my shirt, and when he met my gaze, he did wink this time. “Can I buy you another drink?”
“I, uh…” I glanced into my glass, which was almost empty, and I started to say yes, but right then, my phone buzzed in my pocket again. Instantly, I lost my train of thought. Parker. It had to be Parker.
And why the hell was I overcome with the need to read his message and respond to it? I had this guy right in front of me, looking at me like this was absolutely a sure thing, and I wanted to text a client? A client who was a thousand miles away?
The guy ducked his head and eyed me. “A drink?” He gestured over his shoulder. “Can I buy you one?”
“Sure. Yeah. Yeah. Yeah. I…”
My phone vibrated again.
“Shit. I, um…” I yanked my phone out of my pocket and gestured with it, the lit up screen glowing like a beacon. “I’m sorry. I need to take this.”
He glanced at the phone, then at me, and he nodded. “Got it. Well, um, come find me when you’re…” Another gesture, and then he faded back into the crowd like a mirage.
What the fuck, Cole?
I needed some air. I needed to get away from all these people and lights and this thumping music and—
And yes, I wanted to respond to Parker’s text, even though there was no earthly reason I couldn’t do it right here.
There was a back alley behind the club where people sometimes stepped out to smoke, take calls, or fuck. A bouncer always lurked nearby, and there were cameras—apparently there’d been some incidents out here where people had been roughed up, and the owner wasn’t having it anymore. Still, it was relatively private, and it was quiet.
As soon as the door shut behind me, I pushed out a breath. Then, hands unsteady, I unlocked my phone.
But I didn’t go to my texts.
With my heart in my throat, I waited for Parker to respond one way or the other to the FaceTime request. This was stupid and irrational, and he was probably busy. Texting in between hanging out with his teammates or something.
It rang.
And rang.
And rang.
With each ring, my heart sank deeper.
Then the ringing stopped.
Unavailable.
I leaned against the wall, closed my eyes, and sighed. What was I thinking? I should have been inside, dancing with that hot guy and—if his eyes were to be believed—well on my way to hooking up with him.
Instead I was out here, my phone as silent as the alley I was in.
Winter was still clamping down hard on the Pacific Northwest, and the night was chilly. I’d been sweating from the humid stuffiness of the club, and now my shirt was cold against my damp skin. Going back into the club would be more comfortable than staying out here, but… I didn’t move.
Again and again, I asked myself—what is wrong with me?
What was I doing out here? I was at a club. A club full of men looking for the same thing I was.
Except…were they? Because more and more, I couldn’t convince myself I was looking for the same thing they were. Or rather, I couldn’t convince myself I’d find it here.
Not at Capitol OUT.
Not at Wilde’s.
Not in any club in this city, at least until the Breakers landed again.
I squeezed my eyes shut and wiped my hand over my face. Okay. All right. I just needed to get out of—
My phone suddenly came to life, startling me so bad I almost dropped it. Probably Bryce or one of our other friends trying to figure out where I’d disappeared to. Crap. How long had I been out here?
But it wasn’t Bryce or any of the others I’d come with tonight. And it wasn’t a text or a call.
I stole a second to smooth my hair so it might be presentable.
Then I accepted the FaceTime request.
“Hey.” Parker’s smile canceled out the cold all around me. “Sorry—I was on the bus with the team when you called. Just got up to my room.”
My mouth had gone dry, but I smiled. “Oh. Uh. That’s fine. I…” I laughed nervously. “I should’ve texted first. To see if you were busy.”
“It’s fine.” He shifted a bit, and it looked like he was lying back on a hotel bed, his arm slung behind his head. “So what’s up?”
You wouldn’t believe me if I told you.
I shrugged. “I’m at a club with some friends. Just stepped out for some air. What are you up to?”
