Page 93 of Studs Up
He shrugged. “Not really in the mood.” He was like this every year around August. I don’t think he realized I had noticed.
“Too bad you can’t get anything here,” I looked around at the room full of very straight presenting men.
“Oh yeah,” he rolled his eyes. “That’s a smart idea. I’ll just find a man and sneak him back to my room for a romp. That could possibly never go wrong.”
I blanched.
The waitress stopped by to take our order and gave us a wink before she sauntered away.
“She’s cute,” I said.
“Not packing the right material, asshole.”
“Desperation drives a man to do unexpected things.”
Alex’s appalled stare made me laugh.
“You are in a good mood,” he said. I shrugged. I was.
“I’m having a good season,” I said.
“Too good,” he eyed me suspiciously. “Are you getting laid?”
I couldn’t tell him. It wasn’t that I didn’t trust him. It was that he’d pester until he found out who I was fucking, and then things would get really bad.
“I don’t think Bob would say it quite like that.”
“Right,” he nodded, playing along. “Bob.”
Nolan kept his promise on the other side of the bar and forced Marcel into a pool game with Morales.
“Thank god,” Alex muttered, watching them. The waitress came back with our beers and winked at me this time. Poor thing. He sipped his beer watching Marcel with as much distaste as I felt. “Why the fuck is he here?”
“I don’t know.”
Nolan certainly had opinions. We had strictly discussed Marcel on a national team perspective. We steered clear of club business by silent mutual agreement.
“I hate Reed, but damn, I feel bad for him.”
“Yeah.” Nolan’s sacrifice would be rewarded later.
Alex turned his eyes to me. “He’s still asking, isn’t he?”
An icky shiver rolled down my spine.
“Yeah.”
“There’s something off about him,” Alex observed.
I felt the same way but never could put my finger on what exactly it was about him. He just didn’t feel right.
Not long after that, a group of women in white and blue sashes sidled up and started to flirt. I wasn’t interested until I saw the searing heat in Nolan’s eyes.
Nolan
Charlemagne, Morales, Marcel, and I found an empty pool table and started a game. Morales placed bets with Marcel, which he was happy to do after I gave him a grand to keep Marcel at the table.
Holden and Alex were on the other side of the bar enjoying drinks and a conversation with a group of women at a bachelorette party.
