Two

Two

Parker

I hate when Cameron pulls the older brother and boss card. It’s rare and usually only used when he’s trying to get me to do something he knows will help me in the long run. But I’m not really sure how this New Year’s Eve party is supposed to be doing anything.

I give him half an hour, and once his attention is sufficiently occupied with other people, I slip away into the unused office on the second floor. Only once I’m alone do I let out my breath and feel my muscles relax. I know Cameron means well, but I also know he does some things out of guilt. He was in college when Dad started beating me. He thinks he somehow should’ve known.

I love my brother, and I wish I could get him to understand that I’m never going to be “normal.” Parties and crowds and talking…it’s not my thing. I know the name of everyone here, but I’ve only talked to maybe a handful of them before.

Voices drift into the room through the cracked door, and I lean back against the wall, keeping myself hidden in the shadows. I can’t make out the words, but one of the voices is clipped. Angry. The other is apologetic. And I hear fear in that second voice. Even though it’s masked pretty well.

Quietly, I move a little closer to the door so I can hear them better.

“You should’ve spoken up when Leigh said something. Let her know that your whore ass is used to being groped in public,” the first voice snaps, and I recognize Phil’s whine. He’s some asshole in accounting who’s got a big head and a quick temper.

“I’m sorry,” the second guy says. “I-I was—”

He cuts off quickly when the sound of a hand connecting with bare skin reaches me. I’d know that sound anywhere. It was all I heard the year I turned fourteen.

I jerk the office door open, and Phil glances up from where he’s tucked into an alcove with a young guy. Phil’s face is red, and his eyes are bloodshot. He’s also gripping the other guy’s arm so tight that his knuckles have turned bright white.

The other guy looks back at me. Even though his face is impassive, fear shines in his eyes. His cheek is already turning red from the smack Phil gave him. It’s going to bruise later.

“What the hell are you doing?” I snap.

The younger guy opens his mouth to respond, but Phil shakes him a little before giving me a placating smile. “We were just talking, Parker. Anton here is my date.”

I don’t even look at Phil. I can’t tear my gaze from the younger guy. He’s dressed in a nice suit, but he clearly doesn’t belong here. Like maybe this was the first time he ever stepped foot in an office. “Are you okay?”

“He’s fine,” Phil says.

“I wasn’t asking you.”

“I-I’m fine,” Anton replies. “I’m sorry I disturbed you.”

“You didn’t.” I take a step closer to them. I know I should just leave them be, but I can’t. I keep hearing Phil’s hand hit Anton, and the thought of leaving them turns my stomach. “Phil, you should head back to the party.”

“You’re right. I’m sorry Anton was so loud.” Phil’s apology grates me, but I still don’t look at him. He’s irritated me from the moment I met him, but I never wanted to hurt him. Not like I do right now. Violence isn’t usually the first thing on my mind because I hate the thought of being like my father, but if anyone deserved it, it’s Phil.

“No, you go back to the party. Anton can stay here.”

Anton’s mouth opens again, but he shuts it one more time instead of speaking. It’s obvious he does it a lot from how natural the move is to him.

“No, no.” Phil chuckles a little. “We came together.”

“And you’ll be leaving separately.”

“Parker.” He moves closer to me and lowers his voice. “I’m paying for him. He’s mine for the night.”

I finally tear my gaze from Anton to look at Phil. “What the fuck are you thinking? That’s fucking illegal.”

Anton’s face pales, and he backs up a step.

“You don’t need to—”

“Be quiet,” I growl, cutting Phil off. “Get back out there to the party or you’re going to be fired. And then I’ll talk to the cops about solicitation and physical assault. Do you understand me? I don’t want to hear another word out of your mouth. Get the fuck out of my sight.”

Phil glances back at Anton, and he looks like he still wants to argue, but he wisely just leaves. As soon as his footsteps have echoed down the hall, Anton turns to me. His face is red, and he won’t meet my eyes.

“Come in here,” I say. I want the privacy of the office to talk to him. Once the door is shut behind us, I turn the light on. Anton stands close to me, looking a little uncertain and afraid.

“I’m not going to hurt you.” As soon as the words leave my mouth, Anton’s expression shifts, turning impassive.

“You don’t need to make promises,” he replies. “I’m fine.”

I can’t help staring at the bruise already forming on his cheek. I want to kill that asshole for touching him.

He clears his throat and glances around the office. “You’re not calling the cops, are you?”

“No. Not unless you want me to.” When he shakes his head, I say, “I’m Parker. Is Anton your real name?”

He offers me a shrug with one shoulder. “My name is whatever you want it to be.”

“Can I have your real name?”

He hesitates, then glances down at the industrial carpet before saying, “Rhys.”

It fits him better than Anton. It’s softer. “How old are you? Your real age?”

“Twenty.” He shifts his weight from one foot to the other. “So…what can I do for you? I’m guessing you didn’t break that up in the hallway to come in here and ask me questions.”

“I broke it up because he hit you.”

“Right. Well, that happens.” He pulls his suit jacket off and lays it across the back of the desk chair. Then he starts for the buttons at his wrists.

“Wait.” I reach out and lay a hand on his wrist. “I just want to talk.”

“Talk?” He shrugs out of my grip so he can start for the buttons at his throat. “I don’t get paid to talk, sir.”

“Parker. And I’ll pay you.” Cameron would probably kill me if he knew I was in here asking this guy to stay. Could I still get charged with solicitation if we don’t have sex? I’m not really sure I care. I just have this deep need to make sure he’s okay. He stood there and took it from Phil without even blinking. There was no surprise. It’s something he likely experiences very frequently.

“To talk?” Doubt is in his voice, but he’s stopped unbuttoning his shirt. “Why?”

“Because I’m stuck at this party until it’s an acceptable time to leave. I’m not asking for anything but your time.”

Rhys hesitates, and I watch as the distrust flickers in his eyes. Followed by a flash of that fear I saw out in the hallway. And I realize I may have messed something up horribly for him when I stopped Phil. If Rhys answers to someone, he could be punished for not doing the job. I’d automatically assumed Rhys was in charge. But if I’m wrong…

“Okay,” he says before I can let my thoughts wander too much longer. “What do you want to talk about?”

“Where are you from?”

Rhys’s lips twitch into a small smile, and I blush. That was really the best topic I could come up with?

“Close to here, actually,” he replies. “What about you?”

“I grew up in Irvine. My brother and I moved here when he was attending UCSF.”

“Are you close with him?” Rhys asks, running a finger along the jacket he tossed over the back of the chair.

“Yeah. Really close. I work for him here, actually.”

“Then how come you’re at this party when you don’t want to be? If you work for him, can’t you just tell him you don’t want to be here?”

“Yeah, I tried that. Didn’t work so well.”

Rhys studies my face for a minute, his dark eyes shining in the dim light from the lamp on the desk. “From the way you talked about him, it didn’t seem like he was a man concerned with the image of you actually being here. So he’s worried about you.”

It’s strange that he can tell that from the few things I said. But I shouldn’t be surprised. Reading people probably comes along with his job.

Rhys lowers his gaze. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have—”

“No, you’re right. He is. He doesn’t like that my life is mainly work.” It’s not even close to the full story, and I think he knows it. But I’m not going to offer any more than that. I don’t want to talk about my dad right now. I don’t want to talk about how Cameron had to pull him off me because Dad was beating me. I don’t want to talk about going to the hospital and lying to the doctors and nurses about what had happened.

That stuff doesn’t need to follow me into the new year.

But I have no doubt that it will.

Rhys doesn’t say anything for a few minutes, and I let the silence hang between us. What am I doing? I should’ve let him go as soon as I made Phil leave. Is Rhys scared of me? He’s not looking at me the same way he looked at Phil, so maybe he’s not.

He takes a step closer to me and reaches for my hand. He doesn’t try to pull me closer or do anything more. He simply threads our fingers together, and it feels really nice. I can’t remember anyone holding my hand other than Cam when we were kids.

Fireworks are popping off outside the window, and I can hear the countdown beginning in the main office. People are cheering and laughing. And I love that I’m tucked away here with Rhys instead of out there.

When the countdown reaches one outside, Rhys closes the gap between us and kisses me. It starts out soft and careful, like he’s unsure. But then I wrap my free hand around the small of his back, pressing him against my body, and he melts into me. I feel nothing but warmth. His firm, soft lips moving with mine. His mouth opening to let me in.

It’s not the chaste New Year’s kisses I’ve had before. Need and want roar through me, and I dig my fingers into his back, pulling him closer even though there’s no space left between us.

Rhys’s other hand is on the back of my neck, his fingers tugging at the short hair there. And I wish we could just stay like this forever.