Chapter 6

CHAPTER

SIX

Anthony spent the morning looking for work. He was not going to let his brother win. His parents had written him off after his arrest—the drug charges didn’t help the situation even though what the cops found had been for personal use only, and he’d turned in the dealer to avoid doing more time—but he’d prove to everyone he wasn’t a fuckup. He’d made the mistake of getting caught, but it wasn’t going to define him forever.

He just needed that first foothold, so he was no longer hanging on by his fingertips. He couldn’t stay like this forever. He either climbed or fell. And falling, failing, was not an option he wanted to entertain.

His parole officer, Mick, had reminded him that it would take time to adjust. Even he’d thought going to the party was the right thing to do. He wouldn’t be telling him about Cillian or Hayden’s goading, but he should text him something.

Cillian’s message was at the top of the list.

Mick was next on the list. He glanced at the computer screen and the waiting job application. Then sighed, texting Mick was easier and at least he’d get a response.

I went to my brother’s birthday. Same time for our next meeting?

And how was it? You were worried about being shunned.

Anthony wished he’d never said anything. He hadn’t been shunned, but he had been the subject of gossip. He needed to respond, Mick wasn’t going to judge. He acted like a friend who wanted what was best for him, though Anthony had no doubt that would change the moment he stepped out of line–which he wasn’t going to do.

Anxiety spiked and some were curious. It was awkward.

His thumb hovered over the letters. Like I didn’t belong. He couldn’t bring himself to type it, so he hit send.

It was a good step forward. I’ll see you in a couple of days.

That wasn’t the date he wanted to be arranging, assuming that’s why Cillian had texted. His stomach tightened, hating the way everything was that much more difficult. He pushed aside thoughts of Cillian and the kiss to get the job applications done.

It was only then he deliberated his next move.

There was no reason he shouldn’t call Cillian. Except the idea made his mouth dry. He re-read Cillian’s text to be sure Cillian wanted him to call. He’d only read it about fifty times. He’d relived the kiss about the same and spent longer in the shower because of it, which he did not regret at all. His lips curved.

Last night, the idea of having a social life seemed like a cruel joke. This morning, it was something he wanted. Unless the text was some kind of game. Had he set up another dare with his friends?

How much did he actually care if that’s all this was?

Anthony tapped his phone against his palm. Was he really going to be picky when Cillian was offering something he hadn’t tasted in ten years? Having sex would be better than drinking expensive coffee, or boutique beer, or being able to stay in bed for as long as he liked, or even staying up with his light on for as long as he wanted. They were small freedoms he was making the effort to take instead of remaining in the habit prison had ingrained in him. But he was so used to routine that breaking it took more effort than expected.

He tried to swallow, but his tongue was too thick. He’d called up plenty of men and never cared if they rejected him. The worst thing that might happen was Cillian laughing and claiming to have changed his mind.

So what?

There’d be others. He could download an app and find someone else, but he’d spent too much time around those who didn’t care. He didn’t want to break his dry spell with someone who didn’t know his name.

If he didn’t call, Cillian wouldn’t call him. He needed to do this if he wanted more. And he wanted. God, how he wanted. Heat slid through his blood like a drug. That first rush was always the sweetest. He closed his eyes and imagined he felt Cillian pressing against him, making sure he felt every inch. The way he’d acted as though everything was possible before his brother ruined the moment.

Did Hayden resent him having even one small pleasure? Yes. Yes, he did.

Anthony opened his eyes. He’d be damned before he let Hayden, or his own self-doubt, stand in the way. At some point, he needed to figure out dating, and as much as he needed to focus on getting a job and pulling the rest of his life together first, he wanted some fun. He deserved a good time after doing hard time.

He pressed Call before he changed his mind. The phone rang three times before Cillian’s voice gave him a recorded message. Anthony had a few seconds to think of something to say, and he had to say something instead of hanging up.

He cleared his throat. “Hi, it’s Anthony. I’m hoping you’d still like to get together. Dinner, maybe?”

Why did he suggest that? He didn’t have money to throw around, and the restaurants where he once would’ve taken a date were now well out of his price range. He hung up and smacked the phone against his forehead.

He eyed his expensive suits. How many designer suits—that no longer fit quite right—did he need. How many cufflinks and expensive watches?

No. They were a rainy day fund that he needed to hold onto.