Chapter Two

T he key to gaining freedom lay in wait at the end of the corridor. All Kendall had to do was traverse the thirty or forty feet to the employee breakroom and clock out. Easy peasy. He'd be home in bed by twelve thirty and could log six solid hours of shut-eye before starting his day job. The thought of spending eight or ten hours at the law office made his stomach pitch. But this is what you wanted . A respectable career as a paralegal to prove Stanton wrong.

Kendall slammed on the mental brakes and steered his mind in a healthier direction. His stepfather was the opposite of good for his health. I am enough . I am enough . Maybe he'd start to believe it after adequate repetition. One more time for good measure. I am enough .

And how long was this damn hallway? Was he trapped in a bad dream? Kendall's legs were moving, but he wasn't gaining any ground. With each step, his legs felt heavier and more sluggish. Six hours of hauling a heavy food tray at The Cockpit while avoiding handsy patrons wore a guy out more than leg day at the gym. Damn, the men in Savannah were hungry and horny—for both the wings and the waiters who delivered them. Kendall had discreetly tossed out the phone numbers written on napkins a few of the bolder men had given him. Old Kendall wouldn't have hesitated to use them or spend his break time with a cutie in the parking lot, but he wasn't that guy anymore. He'd turned over a new leaf…or was trying to.

Rapidly approaching feet and hushed whispers reached Kendall's ears as he neared the breakroom door. He recognized the voices and knew they'd only cause him trouble, so he willed his tired feet to move faster. He cleared the doorway and had made it to the computerized timecard system before the duo of doom burst into the small, nondescript room. The owner had put a ton of money and detail into the rest of the club, but the employees were stuck with metal folding chairs and a rickety-ass card table someone must've found at a yard sale.

His pursuers panted heavily in the small space, and against his better judgment, Kendall turned to see what Colt and Carey wanted. The two buff waiters, both with dark hair and dark eyes, had arms braced against the wall while they caught their breaths. Their looks and mannerisms were so similar that most people thought Colt and Carey were brothers. Their frequent petty squabbles did nothing to dispel the opinion. Kendall knew better because he'd taken the time to look beyond the obvious or misleading in this case. He'd gotten to know them and learned they'd been best friends since childhood. Where one went, the other followed. Over time, they'd started assuming one another's habits.

"Fellas," he said jovially, "maybe you need to spend more time on the cardio equipment and less time weightlifting."

Colt scowled. "We're in great shape." This was said between pants, so Kendall quirked a brow to silently refute his statement.

Carey straightened to his full height and stuck out his chest, looking more like a Chippendale dancer than a waiter. "I'm fine as fuck."

"And I don't disagree," Kendall said, hoping to soothe the guy's ruffled feathers so he could clock out and go home.

"You just move so fast," Colt commented. "Jesus, I thought the building was on fire."

"Probably has a hot date," Carey added.

Kendall smiled at the best friends, choosing to keep them guessing rather than tell the sad truth. The only date he had was with his bed and pillow. It was his favorite threesome of late. Maybe his fist would make a brief appearance, but that wasn't likely. Working two jobs had caught up to him, making Kendall duller than dull—in and out of the bedroom. Regardless, he didn't have time for their antics.

He could clock out, but he'd have to walk through them to get out the door. It would be so much easier to find out what the hell they wanted, so he asked.

"We need you to settle a bet," Colt said.

Kendall didn't bother hiding a groan. "No way." He punched in his employee number, accessed the menu, and clocked out at the stroke of midnight. Kendall had zero interest in getting involved in one of their stupid bets on a normal night and was especially averse to the idea when he had an important deposition to attend in eight hours. "I gotta go," he said and headed toward the door.

Carey turned and looked at Colt. "If a guy doesn't respond to my flirting, then he's straight. Plain and simple."

"Not this again," Kendall grumbled at the same time Colt let out a shocked gasp.

"What are you saying? You think I'm ugly?" Colt asked, turning his body and stepping so close they formed an immovable wall of muscle. Kendall bit back another groan, not that they'd have heard it. The men had forgotten he was even in the room.

"No," Carey replied quickly. "You're just more subtle in your flirtation."

Colt snorted. "While you take the bull-in-an-antique-store approach."

"China shop," Kendall said.

Colt looked at him. "Huh?"

Kendall shook his head. "Never mind. What's it going to take for me to settle this argument peacefully?" He had both men's attention.

Carey smiled. "Check on the patron at table twenty. Flirt a little." Carey turned to Colt. "If he doesn't hit on Sugar, we'll know for sure he's straight."

"I agree," Colt said.

Sugar . Oh, how he hated that nickname.

"Get out of here," Kendall said, rolling his eyes at their ridiculous claim.

"You're irresistible," Carey said.

"Like sugar," Colt added, sounding earnest and sweet. The wicked gleam in his eyes betrayed him as the manipulative little shit Kendall knew him to be. "Guys want to lick you like—"

Kendall held up his hand to cut him off. "Yeah, there's no need for a metaphor. I got it."

"Meta what?"

"Never mind," Kendall said. "Table twenty?"

Colt clapped his hands. "Yes. I can't wait until you prove the hottie is into guys."

"What will you win?"

Colt smiled. "I'm not telling."

"Let me get this straight," Kendall said, placing his hands on his hips. "You want me to go out there and make an ass of myself, but you're not willing to say what prize is at stake?"

A dark blush bloomed across Colt's cheeks. "It's private and personal."

Ahh . Kendall heaved a heavy sigh. "Move." The two friends did as he demanded, leaving enough room for him to squeeze through. Kendall paused at the threshold but kept his gaze forward. "And the two of you should fuck already. Everyone around you would be grateful."

Colt gasped, and Carey chuckled. How Kendall knew that without looking was a testament to how much time he'd spent in their company. He heard the friends following behind him but could tell it was at a distance.

"Slow down," Carey urged. "We need to be in position so we can spy on your progress."

"Or you could just call the whole thing off," Kendall said over his shoulder.

"No way," Colt said.

Ignoring them, Kendall headed back out into the dining room section of the club. Colt and Carey were ridiculous, but they had hella good taste in men, so Kendall was expecting a looker. The mountain of a man with short, dark hair was beyond handsome, even with wing sauce smeared on the corner of his mouth. Dark assessing eyes glanced in his direction and held, raking over Kendall from head to toe as his long legs made quick work of the distance between them. Full lips parted, and his brawny hand stilled in the air. A chicken wing swayed between his fingertips but didn't fall to the plate. Big, broad, and beautiful took his time trailing his gaze back up to meet Kendall's face.

The guy definitely wasn't straight, but maybe he was still questioning or denying his sexuality.

Kendall stopped at his table and smiled. "Hello."

The swinging chicken wing slid from his sauce-slicked fingers and fell. Kendall imagined Colt was cheering from his hiding place while Carey groaned. And just what the hell was the payout going to be? Kendall might've given the bet more thought if the sexy man at table twenty hadn't swallowed hard. The bobbing of his throat had a strange effect on Kendall, and he found himself reaching for the glass of water on the table. Enticing a man like that could go to a fella's head and cause him to do stupid things.

"Um," the guy said when Kendall put the cup to his lips and took a long sip. "I was drinking that."

Too late to change course, Kendall shrugged and studied the man over the rim of the glass. He couldn't tell if his eyes were brown or dark blue, but the bouncing lights from the disco ball revealed dark red strands of hair instead of brown or black as he'd first thought. More chestnut than auburn.

Kendall set the glass down with a clink. "Sorry. Long night."

Ridge barked out a dry laugh. "You can say that again."

Instead of repeating himself, Kendall pulled out the chair across from the stranger and sat down.

The man continued to stare intently for a moment before speaking. "What are you doing?"

Kendall returned his scrutiny, noticing the weariness creeping into the handsome guy's expression. Shrugging, Kendall said, "Hell if I know." His remark earned him a half smile. "What's your name?"

"Ridge."

Kendall quirked a brow. "What a unique name. I think that's a character in the soap opera my elderly babysitter used to watch." The comment triggered memories of the simpler times he longed for. Rather than wallow in sadness, Kendall turned all his attention to the handsome stranger mowing through another wing. "Is Ridge a nickname or short for something else?"

Ridge dropped the cleaned bone onto his plate and took a napkin from the pile. He wiped his hands thoroughly but didn't remove the smear of sauce from his face. "Nickname. My name is Kurt Dandridge, but my friends and family call me Ridge. It's both a family joke and a shortened version of my last name."

Kendall planted his elbow on the table and dropped his chin onto his upturned palm. "I'm curious about the family joke part."

Ridge tilted his head to the side, then looked around the club. "Shouldn't you be checking on patrons in your section?"

"I've already clocked out, so I'm all yours." A flash of heat washed over him at the montage of suggestions his libido wanted to make. All of them were dirty and delicious but entirely off the table. Damn it . He was about to clear the air in case Ridge thought Kendall had offered himself up as dessert, but Ridge smiled wickedly.

"Good to know," he said, dropping his gaze to the name tag Kendall still wore. "Sugar, huh?" Ridge picked up another wing and sank his teeth into it. Kendall couldn't recall a time he'd been so turned on. He wanted the big bruiser to manhandle him like a chicken wing.

He took another sip of Ridge's water, earning an incredulous glare. Oops . Drinking after strangers was gross, yet he'd done it twice in a row without a single thought for his health or safety. He didn't want to delve too deeply into his actions because the repressed parts of him would start suggesting other things belonging to Ridge that Kendall could stick in his mouth.

"About this nickname…"

"I look just like my dad, who everyone refers to as a mountain of a man."

"Ah, I see," Kendall said. "That made you his little mountain ridge."

Without thinking, Kendall reached across the table and wiped the smear of sauce off Ridge's lips, then brought his thumb to his own mouth to clean it. "Mmmm. Tastes like Regret."

Ridge stared at Kendall's mouth for much longer than appropriate before looking back up. The penetrative stare made Kendall want to wiggle like a worm on a hook or Kendall on a big cock. He was an unapologetic size queen, and this guy… No . No . And hell no .

"The sauce perfectly describes my mood."

"Uh-oh," Kendall said. "Sounds like trouble."

Ridge's answering smile was diabolical. "Something tells me you're intimately acquainted with trouble."

"We have a love-hate relationship," Kendall admitted. "We're not on speaking terms right now."

"Pity."

Don't I know it . "So what brought you to the point where you're scarfing down extremely hot chicken wings with no regard for your safety?"

"You drank all my water," Ridge said, nodding toward the empty glass.

"So I did. I'll get you a clean glass." Kendall pushed his chair away from the table, but Ridge reached out and snagged his wrist before he could stand up.

"Stay. I like you."

"Thank you."

Ridge chuckled. "Not going to return the sentiment?"

"I don't know you, so how do I know if I like you?" Kendall leaned forward and dropped his voice. "I like what I see a whole lot, but I'm not the answer to whatever is bothering you." Kendall cocked his head. "I'm a good listener, though."

Ridge's expression turned momentarily dark until he blinked it away. "What happened to the other guys, Frick and Frack?"

Kendall's mouth fell open in surprise. Once he caught his breath, he flopped back in his chair and laughed until tears filled his eyes. "Frick and Frack?"

Ridge just shrugged. "Suits them."

"Maybe so," Kendall agreed. "They, um…" Kendall turned and looked to see where they might be hiding and was surprised the two knuckleheads were nowhere in sight.

"What?" Ridge asked, pulling Kendall's attention back to him. "Let me guess. They placed a bet about me."

"How'd you know?"

"I know the type," Ridge said casually. "Their egos won't allow them to believe I'm not attracted to them, so I had to be straight. Am I right?"

"They don't mean to be insulting. They're young and—"

Ridge waved him off. "I'm not offended, but I am curious. Why'd they send you to the table?"

"They claim I'm irresistible," Kendall replied with a dramatic eye roll.

Ridge's nostrils flared on his next inhale. "Yeah, I can see that."

The compliment heated Kendall's cheeks, and he suddenly wished he hadn't drained the water glass. "You're too sweet."

Ridge snorted. "That's a word no one has ever used to describe me."

"Really?"

"Yep." He pointed to Kendall's name tag. "With a nickname like Sugar, I'm willing to bet plenty of people think you're sweet."

"How do you know it's a nickname?"

Ridge quirked a brow and dropped another bone to his plate. "You expect me to believe your mother named you Sugar?"

"She said I had the sweetest little face she'd ever seen."

"Okay," Ridge said, "I'll bite. What's your full name?"

"Sugar And Spice."

Ridge blessed him with a full belly laugh. "Kind of like this sauce. The person who named it must have a wicked sense of humor."

"I'll be sure to pass your kind words along," Kendall said.

"And they're excellent at pairing flavors too. It starts out sweet, then comes on strong at the end."

Kendall reached across the table and helped himself to a french fry Ridge was ignoring. "Much like regret the emotion." He bit through the perfectly fried potato.

"True." Ridge ate another wing before wiping his hands and mouth. "So, what are the special ingredients?"

"They wouldn't be special if I told you," Kendall said.

"I'm not here to steal the recipe and start my own business."

Kendall winked at him. "Good to know. I still can't share the recipe with you."

"Can't or won't?"

"Can't."

"Fine," Ridge said, but Kendall saw the fierce determination in his eyes.

Yes , baby . Tie me up and bang the truth out of me . Kendall nearly choked on his own saliva as soon as the thought crossed his mind.

Ridge pushed a glass of milk toward him, but Kendall waved it off.

"Not choking, just clumsy."

"Doubt it," Ridge said. "I watched you glide to my table."

"It was more of a saunter."

"It was graceful and fluid." Ridge's eyes darkened, and Kendall was quite sure of the direction his thoughts had gone.

Damn it. Kendall's mind followed down the same path. He'd definitely invite his fist to the slumber party when he got home. He needed to head in that direction and catch as much sleep as possible, but thoughts of never seeing Ridge again kept his ass planted firmly in the chair.

"What sorrows are you trying to drown in a plate of wings?" Kendall asked, hoping to steer the conversation in a safer direction.

"I feel like this is all give and take here," Ridge replied. "I'm doing all the giving while you're lying back and…" His cheeks turned bright pink. "That wasn't very appropriate."

"Please," Kendall said, casually waving him off as if his dick weren't stiffening in his spandex boy shorts. No, he wasn't imagining himself at the mercy of Ridge's big body as he rammed into him over and over.

"I'll show you mine if you show me yours."

Kendall met his gaze once more. "Really? That's the cheesiest pickup line ever. It's almost a dad joke."

Ridge winced. "Ouch."

"Sorry." Kendall took a deep breath. "You have a deal, but you're going first. Spill."

"I caught my fiancé in bed with his boss about twenty minutes ago."

Whoa . "Seriously?"

"Uh-huh." Ridge's lips curved upward at the corners.

"And you're smiling?" Kendall couldn't imagine something so awful.

Ridge tilted his head for a second as if considering his circumstances. "Yeah, I am. The asshole did me a favor. I mean, I'm not thrilled about finding a new place to live, and I'm going to miss Sammy."

"Who's that?"

"Todd's cat."

"Todd, huh?" Kendall asked. "That's the male equivalent of Karen."

Ridge laughed. "So it is." He took a deep breath and released it slowly. "I really loved that cat."

Kendall leaned closer. "Want someone to steal the cat for you? I'm not qualified, but I know a guy who knows several guys."

Ridge assessed him through narrowed eyes. "You really are trouble."

Sighing, Kendall said, "I don't try to be."

"It just comes naturally?"

"Something like that."

Ridge continued to study him for a few moments before his lips curved into a wry smile. "I don't believe you."

Kendall ate another fry. "You should because, while I'm bad at many things, being honest isn't one of them."

"Okay, I'll play. Name one thing you're bad at."

"Love," Kendall replied without hesitation.

Ridge flopped back against his chair and laughed.

"What's so funny?" Kendall asked.

Ridge wiped his mouth and hands. "We make quite a pair."

"Oh? How so?"

"You're bad at love, and I'm bad in bed," Ridge said.

His remark was so ridiculous Kendall could only blink for a moment. He raked his gaze over the man's big, thick body and refused to believe it. "You're not bad in bed. Who told you that? The loser you caught cheating with his boss?" Kendall snorted. "How fucking original, by the way."

"I'm selfish and inattentive," Ridge countered. Were those insults his ex had thrown at him or things he actually believed about himself?

Kendall extended his hand across the table. "Hi, I make brash decisions and give my heart away too easily."

Ridge smiled and shook his hand. "Is this a weekly occurrence for you?"

"Nah. Only when I'm lonely."

"I see," Ridge said.

Kendall heaved a sigh. "And I'm fast approaching the intersection of lonesome and reckless. How's that for honesty?"

"Refreshing," Ridge replied. "Reckless, huh? I never would've guessed."

Kendall shrugged. "You still win the trophy for the shittiest night."

"Not a contest I asked for."

"It's still the hand you were dealt," Kendall countered. "But you're in luck."

Ridge's hand flew to his chest. "Luckier than earning a trophy I don't want?"

Kendall found it impossible not to be charmed by the boyish smile on such a masculine face. "Way luckier." He nibbled on another fry to allow the suspense to build. "I'm going to impart my hard-earned wisdom about how to recover from a broken heart."

Ridge reclined against the back of his seat and crossed his arms over his chest. "I don't have a broken heart."

"Fine. A bruised ego then," Kendall replied, raising his hand when Ridge started to protest. "No one leaves a situation like yours unscathed."

The big man drew in a deep breath. "Fine."

"Do you want to take notes?" Kendall asked.

Smirking, Ridge tapped his temple. "I have an excellent memory." He lifted his glass and took a long drink of milk.

"Suit yourself," Kendall quipped. "Option number one is to engage in a glorious rebound fuck. Todd's nemesis would be a good place to start."

Ridge choked and sputtered for a few seconds. "I can't wait to hear the other options."

Kendall laughed. "They're tamer, I promise."

"Do tell," Ridge said and gestured for him to continue.

"You could write a poem or a song about your feelings."

Ridge snorted. "Not gonna happen. What else do you have in your bag of tricks?"

"You could lie around in baggy sweatpants and eat junk food while binge-watching true-crime documentaries."

"I'm now homeless," Ridge reminded him.

"Yes, well, that is an issue."

"I can crash at a buddy's or stay at a hotel," Ridge said. "Don't worry about me."

Relief washed over Kendall. "Oh, good."

"But my very existence revolves around crime," Ridge added, "so I'll take a pass on the true-crime documentaries."

"Law enforcement?"

"Yep. What else do you have?"

Kendall considered the options. "There's all kinds of trashy reality television available. Nothing makes you feel better about your life than watching someone else's shitshow."

"Hard pass," Ridge said. "Sports is the only reality show I watch."

"Hmmm. You could discover a new podcast." Kendall snapped his fingers when the perfect solution came to him. "There's this one out of the UK where a guy reads the erotica novel his dad wrote while his friends react."

Ridge chuckled. " My Dad Wrote a Porno , right? I've heard of that one. My best friends won't shut up about it."

"Glad to see they have good taste," Kendall said.

Ridge tapped a finger to his lips for a second before lowering his hand. "These are all things you've tried?"

"To cure a breakup? God no. I firmly fall into the rebound-fuck camp." Kendall pointed at his chest. "Bad at love. Hell on the heart. I want better for you, though."

"Do as you say, not as you do?" Ridge asked.

"Something like that."

Ridge shook his head and tore into another wing.

"Well, I guess it's my turn to come clean, but my secret ingredient feels anticlimactic after your story," Kendall said. He looked to the right and left, then behind him. Tilting forward, he said. "Habanero pepper is a secret ingredient."

"A hot pepper in a hot sauce is supposed to be a secret ingredient?"

"There are many varieties of peppers. Now you know which one was used in this sauce you love so much."

"I feel cheated," Ridge proclaimed. "Oddly, I'm more upset about this than Todd screwing his boss."

"Yikes. I think that says a lot about your relationship."

Ridge chuckled. "And you don't know the half of it." He aimed another boyish smile at Kendall. "Are you sure I can't coax you into telling me what the secret sweet ingredient is?"

Kendall shook his head.

"How about your real name?"

"It's best if I don't," Kendall said, letting regret tinge his voice as he pushed his chair back and stood up. Ridge didn't attempt to stop him a second time. "It was nice meeting you, Kurt Dandridge."

"You too, Sugar And Spice."

They continued to stare at one another for a few more seconds before Kendall gave himself a mental kick in the ass. "Take care."

"Maybe I'll see you around."

"Maybe," Kendall replied noncommittally.

He winked before walking away, feeling Ridge's hot gaze all over his body as viscerally as if the man were touching him. Kendall fought off a shiver and the urge to look over his shoulder. It was best to keep walking. Instead of heading straight for the exit, Kendall stopped by the register and paid for Ridge's dinner. He pulled out the receipt and wrote a message.

"So, he's gay," Colt said from behind Kendall.

"Or bi at least." He would've asked about Colt's prize, but his puffy, just-kissed lips gave it away. "Do you mind delivering this receipt to table twenty?"

Colt looked down at the receipt and smiled. "Not at all."

Kendall headed out then. He'd lived in Georgia his entire life, but the humidity still caught him off guard sometimes. Standing in the dark parking lot of the club was one of those times. He shook his head at his silliness and headed to his car. Instead of climbing into bed at twelve thirty, Kendall didn't pull into the driveway until one fifteen. Lights on in the kitchen meant Jonah or Avery, his roommates, were up. Kendall just hoped they weren't naked. Things were getting serious for the lovebirds, and he knew it was beyond time for him to find his own place.

He'd just never lived alone before. Who'd keep him on the straight and narrow? You will , dumbass . Kendall unlocked the front door and inched it open far enough to poke his head around. The first floor was empty, even though some of the lights were on. There was a partially open package of chocolate chip cookies on the counter next to a glass with the barest trace of milk at the bottom.

Kendall shook his head, then closed the package of cookies and rinsed the glass before putting it in the sink. A crash sounded above, followed by Jonah groaning and Avery giggling. A rueful smile tugged on Kendall's lips as he made his way to his bedroom.

Yep. It was definitely time to get his own place.