Page 61 of Sin Deep
“I just…last night you seemed like you were sure about me. This morning maybe you have buyer’s remorse?” Hopefully that made sense.
“No remorse, petit. No regret. I want you. But I know how young men are; I’ve been with quite a few, and it would be wrong of me to hold you to this when I know your mind can change. Youth is like that. It’s not mean, it’s just true.”
“Oh, that makes sense.” Was he supposed to say thank you?Dear Winter, thanks for making it clear that I’m just one of a lot of immature, stupid guys, and that I’m too young to know anything real, but in fifteen years? I’ll totally know things about people like me. Love, me.“Do you want a warm-up? Mine’s gotten cold.”
“Thank you, petit. Yes, please.” Winter handed him his cup. “Should we make breakfast? Do you have plans today?”
“All I’d planned was to be with you.” He stood and took the mugs, heading to fix the coffee, roll his shoulders, and get his good mood back.
“That will make it a perfect day. Perhaps we can relax, read for a while in the sunshine. I have a brand-new book, after all.”
“Sounds good to me. I’m totally into taking it easy.”
“Good. Then I will take you out for some lunch. Perhaps we’ll try the taco place again. That was fun.”
“I love that place. Good food, honest—sounds perfect.”
“I remember watching you walk into the market that evening and thinking about how much I wanted you.”
“I was just tickled you wanted to give me a second chance.”
“It is very unlike me to go hunting for a phone number. I would have given you many chances, if it had come to that.” Winter took his cup of coffee and blew on it, then sipped it carefully. “Mmm.”
“It worked out.” He didn’t know what to say, now, because he felt…unsure.
“Rather well, in fact.” Winter seemed oblivious, like he had no idea Harley was losing confidence. As if nothing had changed in Winter’s mind at all. “Should we get dressed? Take our books to the park?”
“Sounds like a plan.” He leaned over, kissed Winter’s cheek, and tried to let it go. He’d have to talk to Oliver, maybe. Later. Or Sam. Someone to help him learn the rules.
Because Harley was in over his head, and he didn’t feel like drowning.
Nope. He was going to swim.
17
Winter handed off his coat to Ricky, who was working the coat check, and stopped by the bar to order his usual. Deacon was busy, so he waited patiently and had a look around the club. It seemed like a typical Friday night, with couples milling around, coming and going from the back hall. The dance floor was empty, but it was still early for that. He hoped to spend some time dancing with Harley later.
“Master Winter! Where’s your boy?” Deacon was smooth and smiling as always.
“He’ll be along. He had a challenging week at work so I told him he should take his time.”
“Let me get your usual, sir.”
He’d only seen Harley for dinner once, and although the boy did stay the night, it was up and out early for both of them the next morning. The poor boy seemed…less like himself. Tired, maybe. Stressed. Harley had a physical job to begin with, and the weather had been rainy and cool, which surely hadn’t made it easier.
Weather was never an issue for him; he worked underground essentially, and the archives were climate controlled. It was fifty-five degrees and forty percent humidity day in and day out for him. That never changed.
His cluttered apartment never changed. His seat at the club never changed either.
“Here you go. Do you need anything else, Sir?”
“No, I’m fine. Thank you, Deacon.” He picked up his usual drink.
A Manhattan, which also never changed.
Harley was a big change, though. One he hadn’t expected to come into his life, and one he hadn’t expected to miss as much as he had this past week. That was dangerous territory, but there was nothing to be done about it. He understood his feelings for the boy, and he understood that logic and rational thinking were useless defenses.
But Harley was still his boy; that didn’t seem to be in question, so he slowly sipped his drink, as usual, and watched people come and go.
