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“I’m sorry I hurt you. Maybe it’s not the truth you’re asking for, but itisthe truth.” He reached for the bourbon his mom kept on top of the refrigerator and took a swig right from the bottle. It burned like fire in his throat. Coughing, he set the bottle back on the counter. “Oh, God.”
She laughed, and for a moment, she was the Patty who convinced him to wear matching Storm Trooper costumes to a Halloween party where no one else dressed up. The Patty who recorded him throwing up after the first time he got drunk and played it back the next morning. His best friend. God, how he missed her.
As quickly as she appeared, she was gone. Her laugh evaporated, and the smile lighting her face fell into a frown. “Don’t do that.” She pulled at one of the braids in her hair. “Don’t make me forget to hate you.”
“You don’t have to hate me.” He reached out, but she dodged away from his touch. “We were friends for so long.Best friends. Why is it so terrible for me to want our friendship back? Why wasn’t it enough?”
Her hands shook as she filled a glass with water from the tap. She seemed to grow steadier the more she drank. Wiping her mouth with the back of her arm, she set the glass on the counter. “When I first met you, I thought I was so lucky. Here was this smart, funny, absolutely gorgeous guy, and nobody realized it except for me.”
She took in a deep breath, then blew it out. “I fell in love with you before we made it out of freshman year. I knew you didn’t feel the same way, but you didn’t seem to be interested in anyone else either, so I figured I would bide my time. Some guys are late bloomers and shit. Plus, I had you all to myself. We laughed at the same jokes. We cried at the same movies. We held hands; we danced together. We had everything but that one single thing.”
“Sex,” he murmured.
“I thought I didn’t need it. Then I told myself, I didn’t need it withyou. There were plenty of guys who wanted me. When I had an itch, I scratched it. But then—” Her breath caught. “Then somehow, some way, I had you.”
She slammed her fist into the palm of her other hand. “I had you, and it waseverything.Everything I ever dreamed about. You kissed me and held me, and when you were inside me, it was real. It was real to me!”
“It was real to me too, Patty.” And he’d never been closer to another person. Still, he knew it wasn’t right, even after, when he’d tried to force it.
Her eyes filled with tears. “You said you were sorry. There I was, my heart so full it was ready to burst. And you weresorry.” She swiped at her cheek with an inpatient brush of her hand. “Then, when I found out Jimmy was coming, I managed to convince myself we could make it work anyway. We could be a family. Nothing but a stupid dream. I’m tired of wasting my dreams on you.”
“What do you want, then? It can’t be just about getting even with me.”
She cocked her hip against the counter and tapped her chin. “Don’t flatter yourself. My life is no concern of yours.”
“Jimmy is my concern. He’s my son too. Even if you wish he wasn’t. Because of him, we’ll always be connected.” Just not the way she’d wanted.
“Yeah? Is that why you’re trying to get custody?” Her voice went cold. “Because you respect our connection?”
She stalked toward him. “Try to take my boy, and I will destroy you. You haven’t got one single friend to help you fight me.”
“You’re not taking him tonight.” He’d barely had the chance to spend time with him. “Mom just got him back down to sleep.”
Patty squinted as she listened to the silence that had replaced Jimmy’s crying. “The fuck I’m not.” She stomped into the bedroom and returned with the boy asleep on her shoulder. “You might have called the shots in our relationship, but I call the shots when it comes to our son.”
Chapter FOUR
Robby
The flashing lights and pulsing music inside Nitro made Robby feel like he’d stepped back in time. Few things had changed about the place in the past five years. A line of assorted drinks and cocktail napkins covered the shiny black bar on the right; the familiar hanging silver fixture cast light from above. Bodies pressed against the bar, three or four deep.
It was just as crowded to the left, though harder to make out the details of the men on the dance floor. He knew from experience, though, they would range in age from barely legal to guys old enough to be their fathers. They’d all be dressed to attract, from those in expensive designer clothes, to others in tiny white shorts, suspenders, and nothing else.
The smell of the piped-in smoke mixed with various brands of cologne and the hint of sweat.
Someone’s hand squeezed his butt.
Yes, it was just like going back in time. Only now, he was older and not quite as desperate. At least, not in the same way he was before. This was a little higher-end than the bar where he’d met his ex, John, and the men who had come before him. In their heyday, this was where they’d come to party as a couple.
“Holy shit, Robby, is that you?”
He recognized Parker right away, even though, like him, the man was a little older than the version in his memories of this place. Parker had to be about twenty-five now, though he still held on to the twink look that had always attracted older—and wealthier—men. His blond hair was long on top and short in the back. He wore skinny black slacks and a form-fitting V-neck blue shirt, which matched his eyes. His cheeks sparkled with a hint of glitter.
“You look amazing,” Parker gushed, sweeping him into a weak hug.
He hated hugs like that. Give him strong arms and a firm squeeze any day. Still, he liked Parker well enough to return the embrace. They had been friends, sort of. “Thanks. You too.”
The crowd parted as Parker tugged him toward the bar. “Lemon drops,” Parker announced to the bartender. “Keep ‘em coming.”
