Chapter 9

T wo seconds after I’d finished off my G&T, my cellphone rang. I had to leap out of the water into the icy air, on account of I’d thrown that phone pretty far away. My hands weren’t even dry, but I grabbed it, thinking it was Alex to wish me a Merry Christmas and all that.

But it was Jonah.

“Hey, buddy,” he said. “Merry Christmas.”

“Merry Christmas,” I said right back, blinking as I attempted to convert the time zones. He was in the Bahamas or some shit. Maybe the Caribbean. That was two hours ahead of me, so it might be after eleven pm where they were.

“What are you doing up so late, bro?” I asked. I settled back into the hot tub, sitting on the second step so half of me was out of the water. It’d be a dream to sink back under once the call was over, so I shivered in silence, and watched water drip from my hair into the water.

“I wanted you to be the first to get the news!”

He sounded so excited, but my heart kind of sank. I already knew the news. I’d seen the velvet box Royce had been toting, so I already knew that my life was about to change irrevocably and forever.

“What news?” I asked, pretending I didn’t know because, in spite of being a bad boy, I loved Jonah with all my heart.

“Royce proposed,” said Jonah, his voice bright with love and joy. “At sunset on the beach, can you believe it? He asked me to marry him.”

Sunset on the beach was about five-thirty or six, so it’d been hours ago. Between the proposal and acceptance and this phone call, they’d had hours to celebrate with each other and had probably done so in bed. They chose to wait to share it with me until the last minute, and that thought forced a bubble of jealousy to boil from my gut to straight up my throat.

I shouldn’t feel that way. I’d had long enough to get over it, that Jonah’s life was entwined with Royce’s. Long enough to force-march my jealousy and irritation about the whole thing into true joy and pleasure at Jonah’s happiness. He was my best friend, and I knew I should be happy for him.

And I was happy for him, him and Royce both. But I was mad, the way I always had been when Jonah’s attention would turn away from me.

Big boys don’t cry and Bad Boy Beck needed to grow a pair and get over it. I knew all of this, but it was hard. Look up lonely waif in the dictionary and that’s me. That’s my picture.

“Oh, that’s great,” I said after a long, hard swallow. “Congratulations. When’s the wedding?” I asked, with pictures of me serving as Jonah’s best man. I would look great in that tux, and I knew it. Or at least I would have. No chance of that now.

“Tomorrow,” said Jonah. Bubbles of his happiness came through the phone at me. He was probably a little drunk, and probably Royce had loved on him for hours and hours, and once again, I would be left in the cold.

“Tomorrow?” I asked, hoping that my concern about missing the wedding, let alone being his best man, was clear in that single word.

In the old days, before Jonah went to jail, before Jonah had hooked up with Royce, a single word would have spoken volumes.

“So soon,” I added just in case, like with everything else, things were no longer that tight between me and my oldest friend.

“Wouldn’t you know,” said Jonah. “There’s like laws and stuff and you have to have special paperwork. Well, Royce did all that in advance, so we can get married in the morning.”

Of course. Royce came from money, and he could probably pay all the fees to get the license and the pastor and whatever else the hell he needed to tie the knot with Jonah. And I was left out in the cold. Again.

“That sounds great,” I said, pulling myself up by invisible bootstraps. “I hope you get pictures and you can send ‘em to me.” I didn’t want any pictures, of course, but it was the right thing to say.

“We’ve got a photographer,” Jonah said, practically babbling. “And Royce got us matching white suits, too. Then we’re going to have a beach-side wedding supper. It’s going to be amazing.”

“Sounds amazing,” I said. I tried to put some amazing in my voice, but I failed.

“Listen, I have to go. So much to plan, and Royce is telling me to get off the phone.”

“Bye,” I said and hung up first because I had zero control at that point, and couldn’t stand to be nice one more minute. It was like old me rose to the surface, because I pressed the end call button so fast I just about chipped a nail.

I knew I had to be brave and good to myself and allow Jonah to lead his best life. This much was true. But first, more drinks.

I dialed the front desk and spoke to someone and asked for all my G&Ts to be poured into a pitcher and brought up right away along with the meat board.

“All of them, sir?” the voice asked.

The voice wasn’t going to say no to me, that was for sure. I had a note from Mrs. Alex’s Mom, who was half of the power couple that owned this fucking hotel and a dozen others like it. The voice just wanted clarification, so I gave it.

“Yes, please,” I said. “Just pour three G&Ts worth into a pitcher. Bring another pitcher of ice, the fancy kind of ice, if you please. I already have a glass.”

“Certainly, sir,” said the voice. “We’ll have that up for you right away.”

Right away turned out to be five full minutes (it was getting later on Christmas Eve and so everybody was sleeping on the job). Two members of staff appeared, one with the meat board, the other with two pitchers, one of ice and one of my favorite beverage. These they placed at the pool’s edge, and while I did see them giving me the hairy eyeball (two pairs), they soon left me on my own.

Getting out of the hot tub, I sat on the edge and tossed a handful of ice in my glass, then poured it to the top with G&T.

I drank half of that glass, filled it again, and sank back into the hot tub, sighing at the warmth while I held that glass aloft.

It was good to be super warm after sitting out in the cold December air getting your heart broken for the zillionth time. I took another slug of my drink and licked my lips to get the last traces of pine-scented gin and tangy lime.

Grabbing my black t-shirt, I folded it behind my head and sank back down. The t-shirt would get soaked, but who cared about that? The fancy elevator was only steps away, and from there, my fancy room was within a hand’s reach.

I might get chilled through when I pulled myself out of that hot tub, but it wouldn’t last long and would be the perfect distraction from my woes.

I didn’t have to list those woes, there was only one woe. I was all alone in the world. Nobody to answer back. Nobody to call my name, or whisper sweet things in my ear after a good-morning cuddle in bed.

Filling my glass once again (no ice, this time), I drank the whole glass, and that’s when my head began to swim. I let it swim as I rested my head on my wet t-shirt and squinted up to the black sky, looking for stars. That was when my hand went slack and the empty glass and the little bubbles of ice slid into the warm water.

Glass in a hot tub was bad, even I knew that, so I shoved through my wobbly head, took a deep breath, and submerged my whole body. Even old me wouldn’t have left a glass behind where someone might step on it and cut themselves. Luckily, the glass was in one piece when I found it, so I broke the surface of the water, holding it aloft.

Every part of me was cold now, my wet hair freezing into icicles, my shoulders and torso growing an armor of ice. Standing there, half of me hot, half of me cold, I fumbled for the pitcher, more careful this time as I filled my glass once again.

Even more carefully, I placed the pitcher back on its tray and looked sadly at the meat board. It was kind of getting swampy from the mist of the hot tub. And maybe I could see two meat boards, which meant twice as many goodies for me, if I could only focus long enough to reach far enough to grab something.

I’d just found a trio of honied dates and was just about to shove them in my mouth when a voice said, “Are you naked in there?”

Sticky honey was oozing along my fingers as I looked up to see Alex standing there. He was fully dressed in a lush green sweater (cashmere, probably) and gray slacks with a crease so sharp it could have cut through diamonds.

He must have been on an online meeting with those folks in Japan, he looked so nice. I could even smell a trace of his cologne above the steam of the hot tub.

He looked a little tired, but he was smiling, and I stifled the urge to look around to make sure he wasn’t smiling at someone else.

“Japan all set up?” I asked, though I knew the answer. Of course it was, or he’d still be on his cell phone or the computer, typing and chatting like mad to make the bazillionty dollar deal wouldn’t fall through.

“Yes, thankfully,” he said, eying me closely.

“I have a note from your mom.” I was pretty sure I didn’t garble the words, but I went ahead and clarified. “The hotel has a note from your mom,” I said, sucking the honey from my fingers. “And from you too, I think.”

“Yes,” said Alex. His smiled widened, and he approached the hot tub. “Aren’t you freezing?”

I looked down at myself. I was standing in the middle of the hot tub, in the deepest part. Half of me was in the lovely hot water. The other half, from just about my hips up, was not. But I didn’t feel a thing. Too drunk, for one thing. Having him there was the best distraction, for another.

“No,” I said, shoving one of the dates in my mouth.

Honey dripped down my wrist, melting in the heat of the steam from the hot tub. Once again, I was a mess.

Manners never meant much to me, and I never thought they would until Royce set out to be the best example for both me and Jonah. But all that did was make me realize I was being a slob while eating.

Nothing I could do about that. Alex had already seen. Besides, I was Bad Boy Beck and didn’t give a shit what other people thought about me.

“You getting in?” I asked, because that was all I wanted. Him, naked, in the hot tub with me. Or not naked. I didn’t much care.

“Sure,” he said, and he went to the little shed and I could see him taking off his clothes, and then putting on a soft robe and slippers. For a walk of five feet only, but it really was cold.

He scuffed closer, then, at the side of the hot tub, he let the robe fall into a tidy puddle and stepped out of the soft, flat slippers. He walked into the hot tub, taking his time on those two steps as if he knew how much I loved looking at him. At his powerful shoulders and sleek sides. Those abs. His silky skin. Fully dressed, he was Prince Charming. Naked, he was A. Maze. Ing.

And that smile, so powerful, so full of pleasure at a job well done. And maybe he was even a little happy to see me. Maybe.

“You’re lovely,” I said.

“And I think you’re drunk,” he said, stepping through the steamy water till he was close and could touch my arm. I shuddered with pleasure. If that touch was all I got, then I’d be a happy boy.

I wanted more than that, but I didn’t know how to get it, not when I could barely feel my feet and my head wobbled on my neck. My focus was getting blurry, too.

“What’s the matter, Beck?” he asked.

I had no idea what he was talking about and could barely feel him taking the two dates from my grasp and putting them back on the meat board.

“Has something happened?” He came even closer until our chests were together, and his hand was on my face, his thumbs gently running beneath my unfocused eyes. And, damn, did he smell great.

Instead of answering (my mouth had gone completely numb), I could only blink at him. His lovely and lush dick trailed against my thigh, making me shiver with pleasure and need and a whole host of ideas that swirled about with no place to go.

“I am Bad Boy Beck,” I announced with some dignity. “And you can fuck me if you want.”

He went still, but at least he didn’t move away. Instead, he moved closer, his hands cupping my face.

His chest brushed mine, bringing warmth that made me shiver. Our hips touched. His dick came closer, that lovely, lovely golden boy dick. Mine tried to twitch in response, but I guess all that G&T had really done a number on my little brain because, really, it just hung there.

“I would,” he said, giving my cold nose a very small kiss. “But not like this. Not with you so drunk.”

“But nobody would have to know!” I think I shouted. “The water will wash it away and you can keep it a secret.”

“Why would I do that?” he asked, and he had stopped smiling. The look in his beautiful dark blue eyes was serious. There was frost forming in his hair from the mist of the hot tub, which made him look like he was wearing a silver halo. And still he didn’t let go of my face. “Why would I ever want to treat you like that?”

I shrugged. When you’re me and you grew up the way I did, that’s the way the fucking world treated you.

Opening my mouth, I took a breath because at the very least I was going to try to answer his question. But instead that made me dizzy, unsteady on my feet, so I wobbled in that lovely hot water and wondered if he would catch me if I started to drown.

And he kind of did. Except I wasn’t drowning in water, I was drowning in a flood of bitterness and just plain loneliness. His arm went around me, warm, his silky skin brushing my bare, cold shoulders. I would always want more, but this would have to be enough.

He kissed my ear and nuzzled my cheek. His mouth was warm, but his nose was as cold as mine.

Then he whispered, “Someone used you and threw you away and now you think everybody will.” He kissed me again on my cheek. “But that’s not me.”

“Isn’t it?” I asked, except it came out izzintit ?

“No,” he said. “Let’s get you out of here and into bed.”

“But my meat board!” Budmahmeadbod ?

“I’ll get you something better,” he said, and then began to haul my ass out of that hot tub. Next came a warm rub down all over my whole body, a warm robe for my shoulders, and slippers for my feet.

“Clothes? Phone?” I asked. Clozzzefun ? I surely didn’t want to leave my soaking wet black t-shirt behind.

“I’ll get someone on staff to bring everything down,” he said.

I resisted like a maiden in distress, looking up at him to make sure I got Dudley Do-Right rather than Snidely Whiplash.

He hugged me close and smiled a small, sweet smile at me. The best Christmas present ever.

“And we’ll get you something better than a meat board.”

“Thanks, Dudley,” I said, but he just shook his head and ushered me out of the hot tub area and into the penthouse elevator. I had no idea where we were going, but I was a little drunk, so at that point I didn’t much care. Just as long as he didn’t let go of me.