Page 26 of Dangle

The plate in front of me became the most interesting object on the face of the planet. I stared at it as if the secrets of the world and the answers to every social problem from world hunger to the healthcare crisis to the end of persistent poverty could be found nestled amongst tortillas, carnitas, elote, barbacoa, and pickled red cabbage.

“Oh, fuck!” Priest guffawed, snorting. “He’s right. You’re actually fucking blushing.”

I groaned, covering the back of my head to bury my face from view. “I reiterate. I need better friends.”

They laughed because, of course, they did. I would’ve too if the tables were turned.

“So…” Priest began, still snorting behind the beer bottle poised for a drink, “who is this man that’s dropped one of our founding Doms to his knees?”

Ewen snorted. “You wouldn’t believe me if I told you.”

“And you will not tell a fucking soul.” I glared at him in warning.

Pinched fingers dragged across his lips as Ewen mimicked zipping his lips. The gesture was nice, but it wouldn’t last. Especially not after the game when all of us ended up at the same place. No way would we keep the hockey players dating my friends separated from their partners. Not that I wanted that, and I wanted…

“I’m shit at tiptoeing around shit. What’s going on with you, Slone? Why’s Ewen freaking the fuck out?”

Rubbing my forehead against the heel of my palm, I sighed. “I’m just outta sorts, guys. I wouldn’t say I’m depressed. I feel…stuck, like I’m swimming against the riptide.”

“Like nothing is bad, but nothing is great either, and no changes in sight?” Alex asked, lifting his beer to his lips.

Lips pressed together, I nodded.

Bauer cleared his throat, his gaze focused on his fingers tracing invisible designs on the tabletop. “It’s not my place?—”

Several of them protested, interrupting him, and I said, “No, say your piece. I would if the tables were turned.”

He smiled, but his gaze never lifted, and his finger never quit moving. “When was the last time you didn’t feel this way?”

A slide deck of images flashed through my mind, each featuring the guys I served with, some before I separated from the Corps and some after, but the ones after were fewer and grew further apart the closer to the present they got.

Head cocked to stare at the ceiling, lips rolled into my mouth, biting down and locking my jaw in an effort to keep the truth from escaping. But these guys—Cam, Priest, and Ewen—knew me too fucking well.

“Holy fuck!” they all whispered.

The weight of their eyes bored into me.

“Tell me it’s not the Marines. That was—” Ewen started.

His voice cut out when Cam spoke over him, “Fucking years ago.”

“And you separated on your own.”

“What was I going to do? Keep serving with strangers watching my six? Fuck that. Besides, it’s not that I’ve been depressed or struggling since I walked away. I’ve not. I think it’s more that I want…more. Having a kink club full of subs is nice. But…”

Every head around the table nodded, but none as emphatically as Alex, Cam, and Priest. They were tops, Doms, Daddies who were partnered up.

“And in the veritable sea of boys and subs at EDGE in Manchester, there’s no one that you want for longer than…” Asher asked, trailing off at the end.

As if I’d been transported to Times Square and was surrounded by billboards, Trey was suddenly everywhere. Buthe wasn’t in the lifestyle. So, I said, “No. There’s no one at the club.”

“What about…?” Ewen asked.

I closed my eyes and shook my head.

“Right!” Asher yelled, snapping his fingers, and when I opened my eyes, he pointed at me, and I had the rapt attention of six Doms pointed right at me.

Turning to Ewen, my patience finally worn thin enough to snap. “You just couldn’t keep your trap shut, could you?”