23. Rhys

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

Rhys

“It’s my birthday, bitches!”

Cheers erupt all around us as patrons of the bar congratulate Skylar. He’s standing on one of the tables at Jolly’s, a tiara firmly planted on his head as he wiggles his hips to the beat of the country song in the background, all our coworkers clapping and cheering him on.

I don’t normally go out with them, but Skylar guilt tripped me into coming tonight. He said his special birthday wish was to hang out with me, which seems like a definite lie since he’s three sheets to the wind and probably not even sure what his own name is now. But it’s not too terrible since it has let me forget all about that disastrous encounter with Everest a few days ago.

Well, almost forget.

It’s impossible to erase from my mind the way he’s been actively ignoring me. I haven’t seen him much, but the few times I have, it’s obvious he’s still pissed off about what I said. Still, underneath all that, it’s hard to hide the way his vulnerability peeks out and lets me know just how much my words hurt him.

“Have a drink!” Skylar tells me as he hops off the table, knocking me out of my thoughts. “Consider it a birthday present to me to loosen you up!”

I smile but shake my head. I barely drink and everyone knows that. Especially since I’m driving, I plan to stay sober. “No thanks, man.”

Cassius smirks at his best friend, looping his arms around his waist until he falls into his lap. “Leave him alone, sunshine,” he mumbles in his ear, petting his stomach gently. “Be lucky he even showed up.”

Skylar pouts but relents with a roll of his eyes, hopping off Cassius’s lap. “Fine. Just means more shots for me!”

Britt slides into the open spot they just left next to me, handing me some water as she nibbles on her straw. “Way to be a buzzkill tonight.”

“Oh, fuck off,” I joke, nudging her right back. “I’m the life of the party.”

She gives me a pointed look. “ Sure . We’re going to play some pool. Are you going to join us?”

I look over to the table where Cassius and Skylar already are, both of them too close to each other, hovering like they share the same center of gravity. Skylar is leaning on the pool table, still dancing to the beat of the music in the background, and Cassius has him caged with both arms on either side of him. Shit, I can’t imagine that Skylar can’t see the utter devotion in his best friend’s eyes, the way he looks at him like he’s his everything.

It only lasts a second until Ricky, Skylar’s actual boyfriend, walks through the door. Immediately, Skylar breaks away from Cassius, squealing as he meets Ricky halfway. Ricky barks something at him, and there’s a flash of hurt in Skylar’s eyes before he grabs his hand and leads him toward the pool table.

I shake my head. “Ricky’s an asshole. I’d rather not be around that.”

“Yeah, well, you know how Skylar picks them,” Britt says with a shrug. She squeezes my shoulder before getting up. “If you change your mind, you can join mine and Cass’s team.”

I give her a quick nod as she walks away. Snagging my phone out of my pocket, I flip through my messages, and it takes me a second to realize that I’m checking if Everest has texted me. What the fuck? I fucking hate it, but it doesn’t stop me from practically pouting when I see I have zero new messages. Seriously, what I said wasn’t that bad, right? We’ve said worse shit to each other… Can’t he just get over it?

I sound like an asshole, but it’s better than acknowledging that his current state—all mopey and silent—is pulling at my fucking heartstrings. It’s too similar to the feeling I had when he was younger, and all I wanted to do was take care of him. I have to remember that I might be fucking him, but he isn’t my friend. If he wants to quietly bitch and pout because he can’t handle a little tough love, then that’s fine by me.

But was it tough love or were you just cruel?

I bat that thought away. Cruel is my defense mechanism because letting Everest fuck with my head isn’t going to end well for either of us and that’s exactly what he did. After he practically choked me on his cock, he acted so sweet and tender. Telling me I did a good job, asking if I was okay, it triggered me. My automatic reaction was to lash out because I didn’t like all the conflicting emotions I felt at his kindness. It made me feel…seen, I guess? Important? Special in a moment that I needed reassurance the most.

I fucking hated it.

I leave it at that, pocketing my phone so I’m not tempted to check it again. Thankfully, Butch slides in beside me, taking up the majority of the booth with his massive body. He’s not drinking either, holding a Coke instead of beer, and he gives me a curious look. “What’s wrong with you?”

“What do you mean?” I ask, drinking some water to see if it’ll make me any less flustered. “I’m fine.”

He raises an eyebrow as his eyes wander down to where I put my phone away. “Doesn’t seem like it.”

“Oh, screw you,” I try to joke, shoving his shoulder. When that doesn’t work and his gray eyes continue to bore into me, I huff. “It’s nothing.”

“Seriously?” He scoffs, this time shaking his head. “I’m a bouncer, Rhys. It’s my job to notice things. You’ve been walking around like someone shit in your cereal. We’ve all noticed, and it’s only gotten worse. What’s going on?”

Feeling a bit flustered that he’s called me out, I take a drink of my water and shrug. “I don’t think it’s any of your business.”

“Maybe not,” he concedes. “Just call me curious.”

I debate for a moment what to do. Besides Britt and Skylar having their suspicions, nobody knows about what’s going on with Everest. It’s not like I can run to Elton and tell him all about my spontaneous fascination with cock, or how much I love his brother’s ass, but Butch is safe. He’s a private guy, keeping mostly to himself, and usually tends to mind his own business. Plus, won’t it feel good to actually talk to someone about this? Maybe get some validation that what I’m doing isn’t completely batshit? Or someone who might be able to relate to this new discovery of mine?

“I’m…not as straight as I thought,” I begin, clearing my throat to hide the insecurity I feel admitting it. “There’s this guy?—”

“Everest.”

“What the hell?” I ask, rearing my head back. “How did you know?”

“We may not all be as smart as you, but we’re not dumb,” he snorts. “You don’t think the whole ‘punching’ incident kind of tipped me off?”

Well, when he puts it like that . “Yeah, okay. Not very smooth on my part.”

“So, what’s up with you two? You doing okay?” he asks, seeming genuinely interested as he takes a swig of his Coke. “How are you handling it?”

“I’m fine,” I say, and I completely mean it. “I’m not against the fact that I’m interested in men; it’s just that I’m only interested in one man.”

“What’s so wrong with that?”

“I hate him. He’s everything I despise and he?—”

I pause. Nobody knows about my past. They’ve all speculated as to how I ended up working at XO at eighteen, but I’ve never confirmed nor denied their suspicions. It’s not exactly a memory I’m fond of revisiting. I know these people well enough now to know that I won’t face any judgment, but the situation still stings, even years later. A sharp stab of humiliation hitting me at the way my life completely went off the rails.

“He what?” Butch presses after a moment where I don’t answer.

I roll my bottom lip into my mouth, swishing my water around. “Have you ever been hurt, Butch?”

He shrugs. “Depends what kind of hurt we’re talking about.”

“The kind that you never saw coming. That…turned your world up on its end. The type of hurt you can’t come back from.”

The type that changes who you are.

“Once or twice.” He leans back in his seat, brow furrowed. “What’d he do to you, kid?”

“He took my future away from me,” I say, eyes wandering to the table as heat rushes to my cheeks, shame and embarrassment pooling in my gut. “No, it’s more than that. After he did what he did…”

What Everest did hurt. Not only because it wrecked the person I was trying to become and the person I worked hard to be, but also because it was Everest who played a part in it. It wasn’t even the fact that he ran away. Well, that’s a lie. It’s about that too, but my issues go far deeper.

I trusted him. I trusted the sweet kid to do the right thing. I trusted that bashful guy to know he could turn to me for anything. I gave him my trust—my loyalty—and he took it and shattered it, proving a point I’ve lived my life by since then.

You can’t trust anything.

“Have you tried moving past it?”

I snort. “Now you sound like Britt.”

“Shit, there’s worse you could have said. That woman’s smart as hell,” he laughs. Leaning forward, he claps his hand on my shoulder, cocking his head to the side. “So, you think you can just fuck away your problems with him?”

“It was working.”

“Until?”

I wince. “I may have gone a step too far.”

“That’s not like you but, then again, you’ve been doing a lot that hasn’t been like you lately.”

“Tell me about it.” I shake my head with a groan. Everest has turned me into something else. The calm, rational guy I am goes out the window when I’m with him, showing me a side of myself I never knew existed. The thought makes my heart stutter, and I hate that traitorous feeling. “Maybe I’ll take one drink.”

“Woah, hold up,” Britt says, and I turn to see her walking in front of the bar. She motions to the television behind the bar top. “Turn that up.”

“The National Weather Advisory is recommending the following counties prepare for a Category Four storm within the next forty-eight hours. Monroe County, Broward County, Miami Dade County ? —”

“Shit,” I say, already anticipating the worst. It’s not like us Floridians are new to hurricanes, but it always sucks when one heads our way. I also know that there are about zero supplies in the apartment, which only means one unfortunate thing. I turn to Butch. “Grocery store?”

He chuckles humorlessly, already getting up and dropping a few bills on the table. “Good luck getting to one before it becomes a war zone.”

Yeah, it turns into an every-man-for-himself type situation when it comes to hurricane supplies. People always take the weirdest shit with them. There’s absolutely no mercy.

“Shit, let’s go,” I say, and all of us pay our respective tabs and head out of the bar. Some of us drove together, so the rest get into Britt’s pickup truck or Cass’s soccer mom van, while I go to my car.

I start it up, wondering which grocery store will be the least crowded, when it hits me. Where the fuck is he? My stomach starts to rumble unpleasantly, something making my heart skip a beat.

Fuck.