Page 7 of The Lockdown Mann

*

The bar is packed.

We’re standing in the corner, both Hunter and I wearing ball caps, hoping that it lessens the chance of someone recognizing us.

We’re in West Hollywood, somewhere I haven’t spent a lot of time since moving to L.A., but I like the vibe of it so far—at least in this popular queer bar we’re in. People are dancing, kissing, and making out all around us, most with drinks in hand as pop music plays through the speakers and half-naked men dance on multiple small stages throughout the space.

“Mmm. I like it here,” I say, looking at the beautiful bodies around us of all different shapes and colors.

“Jesus, this is freaking me out.” Hunter runs his hand over his face, and I laugh.

“We need to work on your queerdar.” Lucas is standing in front of us, drink in hand, eyeing my best friend like he’s something to eat, and again I’m struck by how happy I am for him.

Back before Ellis—Hunter’s ex and Lucas’s brother—passed away, I thought they were good together, but even back then I noticed there was no spark, that the chemistry I see popping and cracking between Hunter and Lucas hadn’t been there with Ellis. He has it with Lucas, though—so sharp and electric that I can feel it sometimes. I’m not sure I’ve ever had that before.

“I know you’re queer. That’s all that matters.” He hooks his finger in the loop on Lucas’s tight jeans and tugs him closer.

Lucas swoons.

“That was ridiculous,” I tease him.

“I thought it was hot,” Lucas replies.

“I’ll go get us another drink.” I leave the two lovebirds alone and make my way toward one of the counters. As I’m waiting to get to the front, a body collides with mine.

I turn to look just as a guy with brown skin and eyes says, “Shit. I’m sorry.” But then grins and adds, “Or maybe I’m not.”

I chuckle. “Smooth. Was running into me really an accident?” I flirt back, aware this is dangerous territory because I’m not technically out to the world—but if I cared about that, I wouldn’t be here in the first place.

I would have come out for Kane.

Hell, I would have come out for Oak too.

The guy shrugs. “Maybe. I’ll leave you guessing on that. I’m Carlos.”

“Des,” I say, giving him the shorter version of my name.

“Very nice to meet you, Des.” The way he looks me up and down and says my name leaves no room to miss that he likes what he sees. That, if I’m interested, there’s a high probability that Carlos would want to leave with me.

He’s hot. There’s no denying that—light scruff on his face, a couple of inches shorter than me, with a broad chest.

I haven’t hooked up with a lot of guys. Oak was my first, then this guy I fucked around with a couple of times before meeting Kane. There’s only been one afterward—a guy from an app who wanted an anonymous hookup, no names exchanged or anything. That’s the one and only time I’ve done something like that, and while it was fun for a one-off kind of thing, I don’t think I would do it again.

“You too,” I reply to Carlos.

“You here with anyone?” he asks.

“A couple of friends.”

“You want to dance?”

“I told my friends I’d bring them a drink. Want one too? Then after?”

“Sounds good, handsome,” he replies, and I grin. He’s flirty, and I like it. I’m not sure if it will go any further than a dance, or if I want it to, but the dance will be fun. I’m not the kind of guy to say no too much. I like to have a good time, to experience all that life has to offer. You only live once, and all that.

I order four shots, then Carlos goes back to Hunter and Lucas with me. Luckily, when I introduce them, he doesn’t seem to recognize Hunter or me. There are times I’ve known someone only wants to fuck me because of who I am, and since all of what I’ve done since Kane has only been hookups, most of the time, it doesn’t bother me. But tonight, I’m not in the mood to be fucked because I’m Desmond Jackson. I just want someone to see me, be attracted to me, and want a good time with me for nothing that has anything to do with football.

“To new friendships.” Carlos holds his shot glass out.