Chapter 8

CHAPTER

EIGHT

Anthony put on the tie, then took it off again. This wasn’t a formal occasion. It was drinks, not even dinner. While the idea of dinner had been stressful, Cillian downgrading the evening to pizza and drinks wasn’t promising.

That Cillian was picking him up because he hadn’t sorted out his driver’s license, and didn’t have a car, did nothing for his already damaged pride. Meeting him at the place would’ve been better.

He ran his fingers through his hair again and stared at his reflection. He looked the part of a successful date, even if he was only playing the role. He’d set himself the goal of having his life back on track within six months. He hadn’t told his shrink that. She’d tell him he was pushing too hard and that his life was different now—she’d already said those things when they’d talked about goals and what he wanted to do over the next year.

He disagreed. If he didn’t push, then he’d wallow. And wallowing achieved nothing.

What he wanted was his old life back, or something close. Somehow. He made his way to the lounge room to wait, dropping on to the sofa.

Margot glanced up from her book. “I’m not coming to pick you up if you get stranded.”

“I didn’t ask you to.” He was still her baby brother, but he wasn’t a baby. He could look after himself.

She smiled. “Have fun. You need it.”

What he needed was a job. “I need to practice driving.”

“Not in my car. Besides, you can’t. You’re unlicensed. Pretty sure getting caught driving without a license is the last thing you need.” She lifted an eyebrow. “If you get picked up for that you won’t be allowed to drive for even longer.”

Margot was right, but he’d hoped to sneak in some practice driving before redoing his test. He needed to redo all the tests, including the written one, because his license had lapsed for so long, but at least he didn’t have to go back to being a learner, unless he failed the practical. Which he worried he might.

“I know.” He needed a license, and he wasn’t stupid, even though Margot had implied that he was for getting caught in the first place. “I’ve read the book, and I’m ready for the written test.”

“Booked a date?”

He’d been stalling because he wanted to practice. Since that wasn’t going to happen, he might as well book it. “On my list for tomorrow.”

The lie rolled off his tongue. It wouldn’t be a lie tomorrow, then at least, he could check off some progress. He didn’t count applying for jobs as progress. A job interview would be progress, and he was starting to worry he wouldn’t get one. He’d been sending out applications for two weeks and hadn’t gotten a single bite.

The doorbell rang.

“Don’t get into trouble.” Margot smiled, but there was concern in her eyes. Was she worried about what he’d do? This was the first time he’d gone out—Hayden’s party didn’t count since Margot had insisted.

“I won’t, but I’m not promising to be home by midnight, either.” Hopefully, he wouldn’t be home at all.

He answered the door. Cillian was on the step, looking gorgeous in jeans, a fitted black shirt, and more eyeliner than last night. His hair was messier, and the shirt had one extra button undone, revealing the deep V of his throat and chest. He looked as if he’d rolled out of bed and barely bothered getting dressed. His dick jumped to attention, imagining Cillian rolling out of his bed. While he’d hoped to get Cillian out of his clothes tonight, he hadn’t thought it a real possibility. Now…

He swallowed. “Hi.”

Was that the best he could do?

“Ready?” Cillian grinned, aware of the effect he was having.

Why had Anthony not put sex on his list of things to do when he got out?

Because he’d been thinking about ways to pull his life together and sex was more like icing than a necessity. He’d never had a sweet tooth, but he was starting to see the sweet appeal. From the way his blood rushed from his brain to his dick, he should’ve jerked one out in the shower. No one had touched him in too long, and he did not want to make a fool of himself.

He supposed he could always go home before anything happened. As if. Cillian wasn’t there because he needed a date. He was there because he wanted to get naked and suspected Anthony wouldn’t say no. He doubted any man ever said no to Cillian.

Cillian’s gaze skimmed over him, assessing his choice of clothes.

“Am I dressed okay?”

Cillian had said dress casual, and while they were both in jeans, Cillian looked capable of sliding into most places with a smile and a nod. Anthony gritted his teeth and drew in a breath. He’d climb back up. He was not going to sit in the corner and wait for life to happen to him. This time, however, he wasn’t going to grab every opportunity. He swore to weigh the risks going forward, knowing those he’d taken in the past had been acceptable at the time. They’d made him the dark-hearted, money-hungry monster the media had portrayed him as. The ringleader of a hedonistic circle of men funding their drug fueled parties with stolen money.

It wasn’t completely true. They were equal partners, and they’d worked damn hard.

“Perfect.” Cillian’s smile widened. “Um… Do you have a curfew?”

“No. And no tracking device, either. I’m not a danger to society.”

“I was teasing,” Cillian said, holding out his hand. “Come on.”

Anthony closed the door, not catching what his sister called out. He had a horrible feeling it involved something about safe sex. He was prepared, though, because he wanted to remain healthy. One of the first things he’d done after being released was have a full set of blood tests done. He was in the clear, which was a relief.

He took Cillian’s offered hand, and they walked to his car. A sleek, dark blue hatch. Nothing about it screamed “look at me,” but he was obviously doing very well for himself, or he had family money.

Maybe both. People didn’t accidentally fall into Hayden’s social circle; they had to measure up and have the right social standing. Or have something that added to Hayden’s place in the world. Anthony had never done a résumé check on his friends.

“So where are we going?” Was it going to be crowded was what he really wanted to ask. He’d kind of hoped for a nice quiet dinner for two, but that was too much too soon, which was why Cillian had downgraded the evening.

“I know a nice little pizzeria, and I thought we could have something to eat before heading around the corner for drinks. That okay?” He unlocked the car.

“Sounds great.” It sounded like the kind of thing that could end early if Cillian changed his mind. Anthony didn’t mind too much as it eased the pressure on him. He gave Cillian’s hand a squeeze and then released it. “Thank you for giving me a chance.”

“Oh, I vetted you most thoroughly today.” Cillian gave him a sly smile, and Anthony wasn’t sure if he was being serious or not.

He chose to believe he was being serious. That, and he’d researched Cillian, too. There wasn’t much, and most of it revolved around his performances and work, with only the occasional mention in the social stories. After the first couple of write-ups, he’d given up. Cillian shouldn’t be risking his reputation by hanging out with him. This date, or whatever it was, didn’t make sense.

He didn’t believe that this was pure attraction, even though it was for him. And while he was willing to go along with it for the moment, how far would Cillian go?

He got in the car and tried not to feel annoyed he didn’t have one of his own. Getting out was death by a thousand admin tasks, and that was before he’d gotten anywhere. Frustration coiled through him, the jagged edge of anxiety already pressing through his skin and making him uncomfortable. He rubbed his fingers on his jeans, on the side where Cillian couldn’t see.

He breathed in.

Just enjoy the evening. It didn’t matter what happened.

He breathed out.

He wasn’t good enough for Cillian, but that was a temporary problem. If this fizzled, he never needed to cross paths with Cillian again, and he’d chalk it up to experience. Though experience was sometimes a bitter poison, with unpleasant aftereffects. After a few more breaths, he had his tension under control.

“So… what have you been up to?” Cillian glanced at him.

He didn’t want to tell him the truth because it was lame, but there was literally nothing else to say. “Looking for work, sorting out my license, going to the beach.”

Anthony enjoyed being able to go out whenever he wanted. He went for a run, then spent the rest of the day online searching for work. He wasn’t just applying for librarian positions; he was looking for anything and had made an appointment with a recruitment agent in a couple of days’ time. Maybe that would help, but he doubted it.

“What happened with your license? I mean, why can’t you just renew it?”

“It lapsed while I was inside.” While Cillian knew where he’d been, he didn’t like saying it because it made him feel like a loser. “I couldn’t front up for a new photo, so now I have to pass everything again.” He was right back at the start. No house, no job, no car. “How about you?”

“Teaching, though I’m also rehearsing at the moment.”

“Rehearsing the piano?”

“Yes, I’m playing for the ballet in a couple of weeks, and it’s very trendy at the moment for rock bands to rearrange their songs and perform them with an orchestra. I’ll be touring the country.”

“That sounds interesting. Not playing overseas this year?”

Cillian glanced at him. “Someone did their research.”

“I wasn’t sure what a pianist did.” He didn’t want to admit to being curious about why Cillian would be interested in someone like him.

“I teach piano, as well as performing. I’m going to New Zealand in the middle of the year. Have you ever been? It’s beautiful.”

“No. Going overseas was always one of those things I planned to do later…” Later hadn’t happened. “I wanted to backpack around Vietnam, go skiing in Canada.” He’d made plans and had the money, but no time. Now he had the time and no money.

“I love skiing! That’s one of the reasons I agreed to go over. Have you skied before?”

“Of course, but only locally.” He realized he was smiling, and they were talking about something they had in common. “There’s something about being at the top of the mountain. The air is clearer, the sky bluer.”

He’d stopped going when he’d finished university, because there’d been more important things to do. That was something he regretted when he ended up surrounded by three walls and a set of bars. He’d spent too much time in offices, staring at a computer instead of living. Instead of blowing off steam with coke and parties, he should’ve taken time off and traveled.

“Clarity. Everything is crystal cut,” Cillian said. “If you see a parking spot, tell me.”

He remembered this street. It had been gentrified since he’d last been here. There was no dodgy looking burger place, or the even skeevier bar surrounded by lots of empty shop fronts. Now the abandoned shops were upscale cafes and eateries, and the bar had received a new front and name and looked very upmarket. The drug dealer, who’d lived above what was now a sushi restaurant, must have moved out.

“There.” He pointed further along the road. “Unless it’s a loading bay.”

It wasn’t a loading bay, and Cillian did a fast and tidy parallel park—that made Anthony wonder if he could still pull that off —then glanced at him. “I should’ve asked. You do like pizza, right?”