Page 81 of Pieces of Me

Rylan turned to see Chris Lavione, a man he’d met earlier in the evening, striding toward him. He held out his hand for the business card Chris was proffering.

“Awesome,” Rylan said, sliding the card into his back pocket. “Thanks so much for taking the time to talk to me tonight. When I get a chance this week, I’ll call you.”

Chris smiled at him, and Rylan thought again how attractive he was, with his black hair lightly mixed with gray, skin weathered by the sun. “Great. We’ll have dinner and go over what your next steps should be. You’re extremely talented, Rylan, don’t doubt that.”

Rylan couldn’t help but beam, and Chris hesitated, moving a little closer, his voice dropping to a low, intimate pitch. “Unless you want to get out of here right now, and go have a drink somewhere quieter? We could talk, get to know each other a little more.”

Rylan’s personal space was suddenly filled with a half-naked, sweaty man with a serious glower in his green eyes.

“He’s here to work tonight, dude, not hook up,” Scott said coldly. He towered over the both of them, so close his chest was brushing Chris’s shoulder.

Chris didn’t react or look intimidated. With a rueful smile, he said, his tone mild, “Well, I guess you’d better get to work. Call me when you can, okay?”

He patted Rylan’s shoulder as he squeezed by Scott, who didn’t back up to make it any easier, just continued to glare, jaw so tense Rylan was surprised he didn’t hear teeth cracking. As soon as Chris had moved off and been swallowed up in the crowd, Rylan whacked Scott on the arm.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” he demanded. “I was talking to him!”

Scott’s lips twisted. “Your booty call will have to wait, sorry. Corey said he wants you to take some pics of me for the club’s social media accounts.”

“Now?” Rylan exclaimed. “When he mentioned it earlier, he said he didn’t care when we did it.”

Scott acted like he was forcing the words out through a throat filled with gravel. “Well, I’ve decided it’s now.”

Rylan’s mouth dropped open. “Are you serious? I wasn’t doing anything wrong, Scott, only talking to a nice guy. I’ve been working all fucking night, you know.” He held up his camera indignantly, and in the wink of an eye Scott’s anger drained away, leaving him looking almost defeated.

He pinched the bridge of his nose between his fingers and exhaled. “Shit, Ry. I’m sorry, man. This night―fuck, this whole day―has sucked in every way. I didn’t mean to take it out on you.”

Rylan felt his face soften despite himself, and he put his hand on Scott’s forearm and squeezed. “Yeah, I know it has. There’s a lot going on.”

Scott nodded. “That’s no excuse, and I know it. You want me to get that guy back over here?” A sour look crossed his face, and Rylan blinked. If he didn’t know better, he’d say Scott was acting…jealous. Rylan gave a mental head shake. No way. He was taking a crappy day out on Rylan by trying to ruin his fun.

All of a sudden Rylan wanted to laugh at how brother-like that was. “No, that’s okay,” he said. “I’ll call him later. So how can I help? What does Corey want?”

“Pictures,” Scott replied helplessly, his voice sounding weary to the bone. “He said he wanted pictures.”

“He didn’t give you any guidelines or parameters?” Rylan asked, looking Scott over, a sudden spurt of creative juice making his heart pound. “Just pictures?”

“Just pictures.”

Rylan smiled. “Perfect. Is there a couch anywhere we can use, something big enough for you to lie down on?”

Scott’s eyes widened, and he nodded. “Yeah, up in VIP,” he said. “It’s closed for the night, no bookings.”

“Perfect,” Rylan said again, gesturing for Scott to lead the way. Jerry the bouncer nodded as they moved by him to ascend the carpeted stairs, and Rylan tried very hard not to stare at Scott’s leopard-print ass flexing right at his eye level.

When they reached the VIP floor, Scott waved his hand at the large seating area which included a mix of leather couches and overstuffed recliners. “Is this okay?”

Rylan adjusted the camera settings and assessed the lighting, saying, “It’ll be fine, but I’ll have to run get my light bar from my backpack. It’s a tad bit dark up here.” He gave Scott a gentle push toward one of the couches. “Why don’t you lie down and relax while I do that? I need to switch out my memory cards and lenses, too, so it’ll take a few minutes.”

Without another word Scott sank down onto soft leather with a grateful sigh, putting his head back and closing his eyes. “Just lemme know when you’re ready.”

Rylan ran down the back stairs to his locker, snagged his backpack, and started to head back, only to run into Teena in the hallway.

“You seen Scotty?” she asked. “I’m a little worried about him.”

Rylan explained what was going on upstairs. “Do you think you could ask Jerry to keep everyone out? Scott’s exhausted, and he needs to decompress for a while.”

Teena narrowed her eyes. “No problem, baby. That little piss-ant Lance is on my last fuckin’ nerve, and Corey’s actin’ like a bitch too. If you want, I’ll spread the word y’all went home, if anyone asks. That way no one will go snooping around.”