Page 5 of Playing His Game

“I hear you ordered another round?” A pretty youngish server flashed them all a smile and started passing out beer. Adam kept an eye, but she seemed well practiced at keeping people happy but in line.

In the end, Adam’s prediction was wrong—Jorts actually finished his beer before calling it a night. He stood up and announced, “I’m Ubering to Scottsdale. Speak now if you want to tag along!”

A couple of dads took him up on the offer, and a few more pulled out their phones to find their own rides. Down at one end of the table, Hallsy, young and single, was making plans to get to a club. Adam snorted, then caught sight of Picks. Had he ever been that young?

“Hey, Picks.” He leaned across the table and kept his voice down. “If you tag along, just remember that you can tell them no to another dance, another drink, or picking someone up.”

“Uhh…”

Adam stood and pushed in his chair. “And for God’s sake, drink plenty of water before bed tonight,” he gave as a parting shot and waved goodbye to the kid and everyone else. Some of them might still be around after Adam hit the head and paid his tab, but he wouldn’t count on it.

He weaved in and around people as he followed the signs to the bathroom. A busy bar made him feel like he was dodging defensemen on the ice—keep your head up and get out of their way before they smash into you.

So it was pretty ironic that he turned a corner and walked right into another man.

“Shit, sorry.” Adam grabbed the other man by the shoulders. He knew his own size and strength—he’d knocked people over before.

“Well, well, if it isn’t Captain Cardboard. Decide to go wild and crazy tonight?” Moritz Du Pont looked up at Adam coyly, a smirk playing around his too-pink lips.

Just like he had the first time they met, Adam registered how beautiful Mo was, with his dark eyes framed by long lashes and his wild “gay” hair. The style changed constantly, but ever since he’d started college, there was always something distinctly queer about the cut. The current look was both more subdued and more trendy than many of the past ones, with the light brown locks undyed, longer on top and short around the ears and collar.

“You know, I can stand without assistance, doll.”

And Adam was still holding on to his shoulder. He felt his cheeks warm as he let go. Why did Moalwaysmake him feel off balance and stupid? “Sorry. For bumping into you.”

“As much as it would delight me to blame you and tarnish your sterling reputation, I think we share the blame equally, along with this blind corner.”

“Right.”

“Well, if that’s all, I wouldn’t want to keep anyone away from the little girl’s room. And I have friends to get back to.” He smiled, sharklike.

Adam frowned. How did Mo do that? Mention his friends and somehow make it sound like he figured Adam had none?

Never mind. It didn’t matter. Mo was already pushing past him toward the bar. Good. It wasn’t like Adam wanted to prolong the interaction. No matter Adam’s best intentions to be nicer “next time,” every run-in with Mo went the same as the first: oil and water.

By the time Adam emerged from the restroom, the hallway was deserted.

Something in his shoulders loosened. Adam had had enough of people tonight, apparently. He closed out his tab with a generous tip and walked outside.

The late-October night carried a gentle breeze and no trace of humidity. Adam had grown up on the East Coast of Canada, and it had taken him years to acclimate to Arizona. The dry air still gave him nosebleeds a couple times a year.

But nights like this, with mild temperatures and a sky so clear that—if not for the light pollution—he could’ve mapped out the whole Milky Way, did have their charms.

The sound of retching echoed from the alley beside the bar and brought him firmly back down to earth. Adam looked both ways, but of course there was no one around—if he wanted to ensure the person in the alley didn’t choke to death, he’d have to be the one to check on them.

Fortunately, he got only as far as the mouth of the alley before a woman of thirtyish exited, pale-faced but at least walking in a straight line. “Oh God, did you hear that?” She winced in apology. “Gas station sushi. Never again.”

Still, Adam reflexively offered, “Do you need me to call you a cab?”

She gave him an anemic smile. “You’re sweet. But no. I’m going to the CVS down the street for Pepto. Don’t worry, I’ve got pepper spray and I’m not afraid to use it.”

Adam believed her. “Okay. You have a good night.” Then he amended, “Uh—I mean as good as, you know?—”

She cut him off with a laugh. “Thanks, Captain. Go Canyons.”

Adam watched her go, just in case, but the CVS was only a block and a half away. She was fine.

Meanwhile, he was standing in an alley like a creeper now. He should be calling hisowncab.