Chapter 10

Bryce made himself busy while they chatted with Mason, but he didn't have the willpower to keep from checking them out after they walked away. They found a booth off to the side. Usually, if they weren't ordering dinner, they hung out in back, chatted with whoever was around, played pool or foosball—fuck, when was the thought of that game not going to make his cock twitch?—but even Toby didn't seem interested in socializing. Tonight they simply ordered dinner and kept to themselves. What was that about? Not about him surely. No, he wasn't conceited enough to think they were pining for his attention. Hell, they'd had more than enough of that a few days ago.

Matt turned his way, and Bryce immediately looked down, pretending to be busy wiping the bar. When he looked up, he noticed Matt was bouncing his leg and giving Toby an agitated look.

Several minutes later, he noticed Matt at the bar. Maybe he just wanted another beer, but why wouldn't he order that from Rachel, the waitress for their section.

"What can I get for you?" he asked, trying to sound friendly but business-like, as he would with any customer.

"I just need to pay our tab," Matt said, pulling his wallet out of his back pocket.

"Okay, just a sec." Bryce hadn't expected them to leave so early, but that was not disappointment he was feeling. No, it wasn't. If he kept telling himself that, maybe it would be true.

He finished making two martinis and handed them to a swankily dressed couple at the bar. Then he pulled up Matt's tab and gave him his total.

"All right." Matt handed him a card, not saying anything else. Why were things even more fucking awkward than they'd been during their shift the day before? He wished Toby had come up instead of Matt. At least he'd chatter away if he were nervous. That would be easier to handle.

Bryce was at a loss for words too. How was he able to talk casually with any other customers, no matter how attractive, but with Matt he was suddenly tongue-tied?

"Here you go." He handed Matt a folder with his receipt, his card, and a pen inside. "Have a good night." Wow, that sounded impersonal and douche-y.

"Yeah… um… you too." Matt concentrated on signing his receipt.

Bryce walked to the other end of the bar, needing to get away.

After Matt headed back to the table, Bryce picked up his check folder. When he grabbed the receipt to place it in the register, he noticed Matt had written more than his name.

Going toMarlo's later. Join us after your shift.

Instinctively, he looked toward their table, but they were gone. They must have gone out the side door to disappear so fast.

Head spinning, Bryce shoved the receipt into the register drawer. He'd decide what to do about it later.

As if there's any decision to be made.

Right. I'm going home. Alone.

No, you're going to Marlo's and living out your fantasy.

No, I'm not.

"What's up?" Mason asked.

Bryce realized he'd been staring into space. "Nothing. I… It's nothing."

Mason nodded. "Mmmhmm. If you change you mind, you know where I am."

Bryce didn't even try to protest. "Okay. Thanks."

Marlo's was a hot gay club, the kind of place that made Bryce feel about a hundred years old and ultra conservative. Of course, even when he was Matt and Toby's age, he'd never felt like he fit in with all the nubile twinks at dance clubs.

What the hell was Matt thinking asking him—telling him—to show up there? He had no intention of going. He'd just pretend he never saw the note. The next time he saw Matt and Toby would be at the firehouse. Even Toby wouldn't have a conversation about gay clubs at work, would he?

Things got busy again, and before Bryce knew it, it was eleven, time for him to head out. "See you in a few days," he said to Mason as he untied his apron.

"Have a good night." Mason grinned as if he knew where Bryce was headed or contemplating heading. Had he seen the damn note?

Jack and Gray had gone to hang out in the back, but Gray had returned a few minutes earlier and was seated at the bar. "Got plans with those boys tonight?" he asked as Bryce came back through the bar area on his way out.

"They want me to," Bryce said, not sure why he hadn't simply blown off Gray's question. Gray was the last person he could imagine having a relationship conversation with. Hell, most nights, Gray wasn't up for conversation of any kind. Not that Bryce needed to talk about relationships, since he had no intention of having one, especially not a three-way one. Mason, Jack, and Gray worked too damn hard for what they had.

"So you'd rather go home and jerk off thinking about them?" Gray asked.

If he were a cartoon, Bryce's jaw would literally have been on the floor. "How many beers have you had?" he asked when he'd recovered enough to speak.

Gray smiled, actually fucking smiled. At Bryce. "Enough to say just about anything. I know how it feels, wanting something you think you shouldn't have."

Gray probably did. It couldn't have been easy for him when he started sleeping with Jack. Or when they both decided they wanted more than just sex with Mason.

"I can't fuck with my job," Bryce said. "I've only been there a few months."

"There not going to fire you or anything, just reassign you."

"Yeah, but I just got a promotion."

"They'd most likely reassign Matt and Toby."

Bryce nodded. "They might end up on different shifts and hardly see each other. I don't want to screw them over."

Gray nodded. "I get it, but…"

Bryce studied Gray. He didn't really seem all that drunk, but he'd said more to Bryce in a minute or two than he'd said in months. "What?"

Gray shrugged. "Be sure you know what's really important."

"My job. It's a hell of a lot more important than giving my dick what it wants."

"Hell yeah. Your dick will get over it. The rest of you, that's the fucking problem."

"The rest of… Oh, you don't think… I'm not…"

Gray rubbed his forehead, as if talking to Bryce was giving him a headache. "You've got that look."

"What look?"

"The one I had after Jack and I… you know."

Bryce almost said "fucked?" but thought better of it. "And what exactly does this look entail?"

Gray took a sip of his beer and seemed to ponder how to answer. "When you see them, you look like a terrified rabbit. You're heart's probably beating like it's about to explode."

"You nailed it," Bryce said.

"That ain't got nothin' to do with what your dick wants."

Bryce's pulse sped up, and his head swam. Gray was right. What he felt for Matt and Toby was about way more than sex. But didn't that mean he shouldn't go to Marlo's? If he slept with them again, those feelings would only get worse.

Jack chose that moment to join them. "Whatcha talking about that's made you both look so serious?"

"Nothing." Bryce and Gray spoke simultaneously.

Jack looked back and forth between the two men. Then his eyes widened. "Shit, was he trying to give you relationship advice?"

"No," Gray said at the same time Bryce said, "Yes."

Jack cupped Gray's face with one hand, turning him so Jack could look into his eyes. "You feeling okay?"

"Fuck off!" Gray pulled free of Jack's hold. "See what I get for trying to be helpful?"

Before Bryce could reply, Jack said, "He wasn't much help, was he?"

"Actually, he might have been."

Gray nodded. "Damn right I was. Now get out of here. Do whatever you think's best and don't blame me for any of it. I used to be able to keep my mouth shut. These two assholes are a bad influence." He gestured toward Jack and Mason, who was at the other end of the bar.

"Will do." Bryce walked off before Jack could start giving him advice too. He grabbed his bag and headed for his SUV. Where was he going? Home? Marlo's? He looked down at himself. He wasn't going to Marlo's dressed in some of his oldest jeans and a scruffy Atlanta Fire and Rescue Department t-shirt. If he had any sense, he wasn't going at all. No matter what Gray thought, he wasn't falling for Toby and Matt. He enjoyed their company and thought they were hot as hell and good in bed—or on the floor. Who wouldn't want them? They were awesome guys, caring, dedicated to their job, easy to get along with, good kissers, pliable, submissive, so good at taking his cock. And they made such gorgeous noises.

Holy fuck! He had to stop this!

In the end, his rational side lost the battle. Once he'd taken Rollo on a walk around the block, instead of grabbing an after-work snack and winding down with a movie like he usually did, his legs carried him, unbidden, to his bedroom. He extracted a pair of tight black jeans from his closet. Thank God he'd kept in shape and they would still fit. Once he'd zipped himself up, he changed into a fitted shirt, gray with thin black stripes. He'd never gone for flashy, but his body looked damn fine in the ensemble. He ran a hand through his short hair, studying it. Fuck, no! He wasn't going so far as to break out the styling products. Matt and Toby could take him like this or not at all.

They'll take you right home and you'll fuck them again, won't you?

Hell, yes.

He'd obviously lost his goddamn mind.

A few minutes later, he pulled into the parking lot at Marlo's. On a weekend it would be packed, but Tuesday night was quiet enough that there were several spaces left. After parking, his prudent side nearly got the better of him. He dropped his head onto the steering wheel and took a slow breath. Was he really going to do this?

Go home.

Stay.

Go home.

Stay.

For a few seconds, he let himself recall his fantasy of watching Matt and Toby dance, of telling them what he wanted, moving with them and then in them.

Fuck. Now he was so hard, he'd have trouble walking to the door. Maybe they wouldn't even be there. Maybe they'd moved on to another club or changed their minds. That would be best for everyone, wouldn't it? If they weren't there, Bryce could find someone else for a hot, dirty fuck and forget them.

Those boys are the only dirty fuck you want.

Bullshit. I'm just horny, and I need to get off with a willing man.

Right.

Yes, right.

Please tell me you don't really believe that.