Page 28 of Sin Deep
9
The imposing front doors to the club seemed to hold more excitement than Mardi Gras as Winter walked through them. He nodded to Deacon behind the bar and made his way to his usual table. Sundays were quieter than most nights, but it seemed as if there were more eyes on him. He felt like a new man, as if he’d somehow been reborn last night. Perhaps it showed.
He knew it was probably a fantasy, but he was allowing himself to believe that Harley wasn’t like the others, that Harley wouldn’t fly away one day like they had. It was another birthday present to himself.
“Rum and Coke, Master Winter.” Deacon had walked the drink over himself.
“Thank you so much. Oh, Deacon, I’m expecting a guest; you can put whatever he wants on my account.”
“Yes, Sir. I will do that.” Deacon smiled and went back to the bar.
His phone buzzed about five minutes later. For a second, he knew—he simply knew Harley was canceling, but what he received was,I’m here. Do I just come in?
He forced a breath and swallowed the dread down. Honestly, who was he to doubt the boy?Yes, come right in and tell the bartender you’re with me.
K!
It only took seconds before Harley walked in, heading straight for the bar to talk to Deacon, who took his drink order and pointed to his table.
Harley turned and smiled at him, waving. As soon as he got his beer, Harley headed right over to him.
He stood, warming as his gaze roaming over Harley’s strong shoulders and flat abs, so evident through the t-shirt. “Look at you. I’m so happy you were able to come.”
“Me too. I had to borrow a clean shirt.” Harley winked at him and leaned close to him. “I totally have to take in my laundry tomorrow.”
“You made a fine choice.” Whether Harley planned to stay in New York or not, Winter wasn’t going to allow him any room to doubt how much he was wanted. He caught the boy’s jaw in his fingers and gave him a short but confident kiss, then gestured to a chair close to his. “Ah, laundry. Somehow it remains the bane of every New Yorker’s existence. I am fortunate in that my building has a rather well-equipped laundry room, in addition to a service, which I pay for. You are more than welcome to bring yours by.”
“Oh, that’s kind to offer. I may have to take you up on that at some time.” Harley leaned in, hands on his thigh. “Although when I’m with you, I’m not thinking about laundry.”
He chuckled, because he liked the way Harley gravitated to him. “Rather the lack thereof, hm?”
“Only because I’m wearing a shirt two sizes too small.” Harley’s eyes twinkled in the lights. “Thank goodness I had clean jeans.”
“That shirt is not too small. It fits you perfectly. I approve of this look.” A server brought Harley his drink and set it down, smiling first at him, and then more flirtatiously with Harley before going back to the bar. “What are you drinking?”
“Jack and Coke. I was going to have a beer, but this sounded better.” Harley winked at him. “So, tell me about your work week.”
“Mm. Okay. Well, I work an eight to three shift with overtime until five if I want it, and only on weekdays. I work in the archives, which usually means I am helping people find specific pieces of information that they’ve requested electronically, or sometimes they’ve made an appointment to look at something I found for themselves. I love all the old books and maps, and I have a fairly good handle on what is there and what isn’t by this point so I’m useful.”
“That’s too cool. I will be lugging boxes and furniture, which is less boring than it sounds. I think of it as a seven-hour workday.”
“Think of it? Is it usually a longer day?” Winter sipped his rum and Coke and wondered what a Jack and Coke tasted like. He’d never had one.
“If we have a long one, I get Friday off. The bosses are anti-overtime unless there’s no way around it. If I work overtime, it’ll be the end or the beginning of the month.”
Winter nodded. “Well, it sounds like you might have time for dinner this week. I would like to invite you to join me any time you wish.”
“Yeah? I’d love that. Seriously. You want me to come to yours, or I could take you out?”
“You already took me out. It’s my turn. But I was thinking I could cook for you too.” He took Harley’s hand.
“Oh? Cool. You just need to tell me which day, what time, and what I ought to bring.” Harley’s smile just lit up the bar.
“No, petit. You will tell me which day, because it will be whichever day you are too tired to find yourself something healthy to eat. Or several days. I don’t need notice; you can come to my home and I will take care of you.” He couldn’t imagine anything better.
“Oh…” Harley put his glass down and hugged him tight. “Thank you.”
He breathed in deeply as he returned Harley’s spontaneous embrace, feeling complete for the first time in a very long while. “It’s my pleasure and my privilege, petit.”
