36. The Second Chance

Hunter

By the end of his first day as an official Associate, Hunter hadn’t heard from Grayson. He made a dummy account on social media to find Logan and spent all night pouring over the details of each and every photo. From what he could gather, he was in Sacramento with his wife and daughter. A few posts a year. He kept a trimmed beard that made him look older and rugged, but handsome in his own way. Hunter wondered if he was happy and if he ever thought about him.

He then spent the rest of the night on Grayson’s profile. He looked like a beardless Logan from four years ago, but with more expressive eyes and better photography skills. He started from the bottom and worked his way up. He was tagged in some middle school soccer pictures by his mom and then high school football pics.

Hunter smiled, watching Grayson grow up over the years. It seemed he had a girlfriend for about a year and even took her to his senior prom. He noticed a gap in the picture timeline and then saw random pictures of the city of Nashville and then him on a bench with the location as Dupont Circle. Everything Grayson shared about himself checked out. There was one picture from ten months ago of him with his arm around a guy in bed, but his forearm was covering the guy’s face as they faced each other. The caption read, Cold nights in. The comments were along the lines of “Love you guys … Cutest couple …” It made Hunter unreasonably jealous.

Hey, he texted Grayson when he got home, then checked his phone every two minutes for a response that never came.

On Tuesday, around lunchtime, he sent Grayson a meme he thought he’d find funny. By Wednesday, he had given up on contacting him altogether—although, he couldn’t get him out of his head.

He finally met up with Reagan again on Thursday night—telling her that he had been too swamped with work to text. He fought the urge to head down to The Neighborhood bar on Friday and Saturday night. Instead, he went out with his new team and on Saturday made plans to hit up a club with Neil. He posted new stories every night, hoping Grayson would watch them, and he did, every single one.

He headed down to the bar on Sunday although he knew Grayson wouldn’t be there. He figured maybe Benji could give him some insight into what had happened.

“Richie, you’re back. Just in time to pay my cell phone bill. Didn’t think I’d ever see you again,” Benji said when seeing Hunter walk in and sit at the bar.

“I’m all out of hundreds,” Hunter joked, a little more at ease than he had been on his previous visits.

“Twenties and fifties work just as well.” Benji let out a belly laugh. “I’m messing with you. What can I get you?”

“A clue. I don’t know what I did.” Hunter stared down at the counter for a hidden answer. “I thought we were having a good time.”

“You know he’s here tonight, right? He’s in the back,” Benji said.

“What? I have to go then. He’s going to think I’m stalking him.”

“No, please, stay? Talk to him,” Benji encouraged him.

Hunter turned to leave and was stunned. He couldn’t believe who he saw. He then turned to face the front door and bumped right into Grayson who carried a crate of glasses.

“Hey, Richardson,” Grayson smiled at him. “Look, I’m sorry I haven’t—” Hunter darted around him and out the door. He rushed down the street, walking as fast as he could before transitioning to a full sprint.

“Hey, stop. Stop!” a voice called out to him as he was halfway down the block. Hunter turned to face the music, knowing this would change everything.

Lawrence Turner, the VP at the firm, panted as he caught up to him.

“Look, I uh—” he started. At first, he looked as if he’d lie but then he hunched his shoulders with a big sigh of defeat. “You know what I’m going to say. This can’t get out.”

Hunter nodded his head, unsure of which version of himself to put forward. “No, of course not.”

“You’re uhm—Chadley, right?”

“Hunter.”

“That’s right, Joanna’s kid. I’m asking you, as a friend—”

“What’s going on here?” Grayson popped up behind Lawrence.

Lawrence turned toward Grayson and placed a hand on his shoulder, but Grayson swiftly pulled away. “Gray, please, I just came by to talk to you.”

“How do you two know each other?” Grayson asked with a raised brow as he crossed his arms.

“He works at the firm,” Lawrence explained.

“So, you paid him to spy on me?”

“What?” Lawrence and Hunter said in unison, sharing the same puzzled look.

“You’re both ridiculous and pathetic.” Grayson shook his head and headed back toward the bar. Lawrence chased after him.

Hunter felt he made such a mess of things.

How do you know my ex?Grayson texted him. Hunter didn’t respond.

At around 10:30 that evening, Hunter got a call from the intercom phone.

“Mr. Richardson, there is a Grayson Maxwell here to see you,” the front desk attendant from the lobby informed him. Hunter quickly brushed his teeth and passed a comb through his hair. His place stunk of weed and the candle he used to mask the smell.

“Hi,” Grayson said at the door. His large blue eyes contrasted against his dark eyebrows and lashes, giving him a boyish look that made Hunter’s stomach flutter.

“Hey,” Hunter said, seemingly unenthused, but gripping the door handle tightly so he wouldn’t lose his balance.

“Can I come in? Just for a sec.” Grayson wore a worried expression, as if he had just lost his puppy. Hunter opened the door, letting Grayson in, and then led him to the couch. “I spoke with Larry,” Grayson started as he sat beside Hunter. “He explained everything. I’m sorry.”

“That’s it?”

“He’s afraid you’ll out him.”

“I’m afraid he’ll out me!”

“I know—I figured that’s why you left,” Grayson said, rubbing his hands on his lap. “But I know he won’t. I promise. He has a wife and kids around my age.”

“You promise? I don’t even know you.”

“I know you’re mad about me not getting back to you last week.”

“I didn’t notice. I was pretty busy,” Hunter said, looking down at the floor as he pointed and flexed his foot.

“Right, well—I’m sorry either way.”

“Why’d you do it? Why’d you ghost me?” Hunter asked and then immediately regretted it, not wanting to expose himself.

“Honestly? You got in my head. Despite the red flags, I couldn’t stop thinking about you and it—it scared me.”

“What red flags?”

“You know—you’re closeted and ‘straight’ so we will probably never go out in public or hangout at small obscure places like The Neighborhood. You’re clearly still in love with your ex, Logan. You make a lot more money than I do so you’ll probably think that you own me. You’re younger than what I’m used to. You’re probably all about timelines and structure and I’m kind of spacey and aloof, and you’ll grow to hate that—”

“Then, why are you here?”

“Figured I owed it to you to tell you in person. I was hoping you’d come by again Friday or Saturday. Didn’t expect you there today.”

“I was there to see Benji,” Hunter said with a shrug.

“The very queer and flamboyant, Benji?”

“He’s alright,” Hunter said, regretting his previous comments about gay men. “It’s getting late.”

“You’re right. Sorry. I’ll head out,” Grayson said, standing up from the couch and heading toward the door. “For whatever it’s worth, I did like—I do like you, and I’m sorry. If you ever want to get together, let me know.”

Grayson opened the door and stepped into the hallway when Hunter took hold of his hand and pulled him back in, cupped his chin and placed a soft kiss on his lips.

“I’m sorry,” Grayson said before Hunter kissed him again.

“You’re here now so, we’ll make the most of it,” Hunter whispered and then led him to the bedroom.

Grayson and Hunter spent the rest of the evening talking and kissing in bed.

“How did you meet Lawrence Turner?” Hunter asked, curiosity getting the best of him.

“Ugh. I did a move for him and his wife back at the beginning of spring and he kept eye-fucking me. I thought he was cute, you know? He’s got that salt and pepper hair, and he’s pretty fit under those suits. When he was signing the invoice, I wrote my number in the corner—in case he had any further questions, and he needed to reach me directly. I heard from him five minutes later.”

“Why did you break up?”

“It wasn’t much of a relationship. Lots of flirting and banter at first, but then it soon became hotel quickies between his meetings or on his way home from work. I’ve spent the night with him less than five times in six months. We did go on a trip to San Diego once, but he didn’t want to be caught dead with me. I wasn’t allowed to leave the room without his permission, and he spent most of the time working.”

“You had to ask permission?”

“He’s a controlling asshole. When I’d get angry with him, he’d track me down and somehow knew where I was at all times. He likes to come to the bar sometimes to sit and watch me—sound familiar?” Grayson laughed. “Turns out it was the stupid cell phone he got me.”

“Wow, that’s—intense.”

“When I didn’t respond to you, I figured you’d keep trying. When you didn’t, I felt I had missed my chance.”

“I’m not used to having to chase much,” Hunter said.

“I bet you’re not,” Grayson teased him, running a finger across his chest. “You’re fucking sexy. You love showing off your body, too. I saw your stories. You must drive the guys in the locker room wild at the gym.”

“I wouldn’t know. I don’t pay attention. Besides, men don’t hit on me as much as women do.”

“Those whores,” Grayson joked and rolled over on top of Hunter, chest to chest. “Tell me, what’s your life like?”

They were strangers but Hunter felt like he knew Grayson. The glimmer in his eyes gave Hunter a sense of hope and security. “I go to work, hit the gym, get high on the weekends, and try my best to forget about how boring my life is.”

“You’re full of shit. You went to at least two restaurants I can’t even pronounce the name of—or afford, and a nightclub on Saturday.”

Hunter laughed. “So, you were watching.”

“Were you on a date?”

“I was.”

“With Chucky?”

Hunter lifted a brow. “Chucky? What are you talking about?”

“Creepy redhead. She posted you in her stories. I thought you were in Gotham City.”

Hunter couldn’t contain his laughter. “Be nice. She’s very sweet … Do you want to go on a date?”

“What do you mean? Netshows and chill?”

“How about … dinner and a show?”

Grayson lifted his head off Hunter’s chest and smiled from ear to ear. “You mean out, out? Not here in your apartment?”

“Why not? You pick. Anywhere you want.”

“How’s Wednesday night?” Grayson asked and bit his bottom lip.

“Wednesday works. I’ll keep it free.”

Grayson pulled out his phone and typed. “I told Benji we have a real date, and he says I need to get myself some real clothes.”

“Get something from my closet. It’s one in the morning, are you spending the night?”

“Do you want me to?” Grayson asked.

“I’d like you to,” Hunter said and kissed him again. “Mind if I take a quick shower?”