Bad Influence (10 page)

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Authors: K. A. Mitchell

BOOK: Bad Influence
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“Guy needs a GPS to find his way to the head in his own house,” Quinn muttered.

Jamie was the only one who noticed that Silver was standing there. “Maybe you should have let the guy tell his own story, Eli.”

“Hey.” Eli waved and grinned exaggeratedly, then shrugged. “Sorry. It just slipped out.”

“That’s what he said,” Jamie said, and both he and Quinn burst out laughing.

“Sorry.” And this time Eli did sound sorry. “Honestly. When Jamie’s around, it’s like they’re both twelve years old.” As the laughter faded, Eli turned his head toward Silver. “You know, thinking about it, why didn’t Zeb ever try to find you?”

“Let’s save a small bit of consideration for what it was like for Zeb to find out he’d been screwing a high schooler.” Quinn shuddered like it was the most repulsive thing ever, like
he
wasn’t fucking someone half his age.

But Jamie called bullshit. “Hey, you got a taste for fresh chicken, you gotta learn to check the date on the package. Did you bother?”

Eli chuckled. “Oh he did. I showed him an ID.”

“I told him I was nineteen,” Silver mumbled. Then he glanced at Quinn. “And Zeb was only twenty-two when we met.”

“Still, you were what, sixteen?” Jamie asked.

Silver glanced away. Maybe he’d have been better off with Gavin. He might see through bullshit, but he didn’t act all judgmental.

Quinn started sliding the burgers onto a plate. They’d taken two steps away from the grill when Eli poked Silver’s biceps. Hard.

“That wasn’t your actual birthday. On your license. The one I threw you a party for.”

Silver shook his head.

“When is it really?” Eli asked.

“August.”

“Well, don’t think you’re getting another one.” With that pronouncement, Eli flounced his ass onto a chair.

“Or more presents.” Jamie flicked some of the sweat from his fresh beer at Silver. It was nice and cool.

“By the way, I won a hundred twenty on those scratch-offs you gave me.” In reality, Silver had been surprised to win ten dollars, but he figured the inflated amount would piss Jamie off.

Instead, Jamie grinned and dropped a hand on Gavin’s shoulder. “Told you my present might be worth almost as much as yours.”

“Almost.” Gavin smiled. With Jamie behind him, Gavin had to know the guy couldn’t see his face, but still the smile was so much more than the polite attention shown in the ones Gavin gave Silver.

The ache was so sharp and sudden, Silver first thought it was the heat, the stifling air burning into the lining of his lungs.

It wasn’t the heat. It was almost jealousy, because Silver wanted Gavin to smile like that at him. But he knew the feeling wasn’t about Gavin, it was about him and Jamie. Not as if Gavin wasn’t totally hot. If Silver still wanted to fuck as much as he wanted to breathe, he would pay Gavin for a chance to suck him off.

No, what hurt was what the smile meant. If someone who was as much of a complete asshole as Jamie could get such a smile out of Gavin, it was enough to make Silver want to believe in some bible verse he’d drawn a picture for in Sunday school.
Love forgets mistakes.

To believe maybe there’d be someone, someday, who’d do that for him. Look at him like he mattered, the way Zeb used to. Someone who’d make Silver give him the smile that forgave everything.

After the food was distributed, Gavin asked, “Are you excited about your exhibition, Eli?”

“You seriously have to ask? I’m totally freaking out. Thank you so much for introducing me to your friend at the gallery.”

Gavin did his shrug thing again, like he wasn’t some kind of fairy godmother waving around the money wand. “My friend thinks he’s the one who will be grateful. He expects you’ll sell very well with the limited run of prints.”

“You’re all coming to the opening, right?” Eli gave them a peeking-from-under-his-bangs look. Effective on Quinn, maybe, but it made Silver cover his face in disgust.

“If I don’t have to work,” Jamie answered quickly, then added in a mutter to Gavin, “How come when you get involved it means uncomfortable suits?”

“It’s artsy. You can get away with skipping a tie,” Eli said.

Gavin nodded, and Jamie’s habitual scowl faded slightly.

Eli and Gavin started talking more artsy details while Quinn and Jamie talked about a bunch of guys Silver didn’t know. Which was fine. Silver had had enough attention on him. A little peace was a nice change. He washed down his burger with iced tea and figured in another five minutes he could go inside and stop sweating.

The conversations faded, and Gavin cleared his throat. “Silver, I spoke to the lawyer today.”

Ah. A setup. All the stuff about having a cookout today because Jamie had to work Memorial Day weekend was a cover so there was a good crowd for the latest intervention.

“Okay,” Silver answered cautiously. It couldn’t be really bad news, or Gavin wouldn’t have given that speech about learning people could be nice without you blowing them or whatever.

“They’re working out a plea to avoid any jail time, but he feels the judge would be more inclined to look favorably at it if you were working on a GED.”

Gavin used a lot of pretty words, but Silver cut through it. School or jail.

Even conscious of how far out on a limb these people had already gone for him, Silver didn’t remember a whole lot of difference in terms of boredom between sitting in class or sitting in a cell. “I don’t want to take adult-ed classes with a bunch of losers.”

Jamie snorted. Silver glared.

Gavin said, “Perhaps a tutor.”

“Quinn’s a teacher. Couldn’t Quinn tutor him?” Eli offered.

“Uh.” Quinn didn’t sound particularly enthused about that.

“Zeb could,” Silver put in.

Gavin’s gaze felt like it went right through Silver’s brain and picked out all the ideas attached to what he’d hoped was an innocent-sounding suggestion.

Eli’s look was suspicious, but for a different reason. “We’re talking actual studying this time, Silver. Not the fun kind.”

“Yeah, I got it.” Silver sighed. “Look, he said he was sorry for getting me arrested, and he’d do anything to fix it.” He avoided Gavin’s eyes. Eli’s belief in the whole epic-love thing should help. “Please, Mom, we’ll work here at the house were you can keep an eye on us.” It wasn’t as if Silver’s plans involved actually having sex with Zeb, only making him want it. Want what they’d had so he could know what it felt like to lose it.

“Will you ask the lawyer about that, Gavin?” Eli ignored the rest of it.

“I will. The sooner things are official the better,” Gavin agreed.

“I can call him.” Silver hoped his smile didn’t look as fake as it felt. “You’ve got his number, right, Quinn?”

With everyone grabbing something, it didn’t take as long to get stuff back into the house as it had taken Eli and Silver to haul everything out. He wished he’d have that kind of help when he worked lunch tomorrow. But when Silver went back for the stuff that had been left by the grill, he was surprised to see Gavin wiping off the table.

“Is this weird for you? Doing a maid’s job?”

Gavin gave Silver a look like he was trying to figure out if Silver was serious. “Amazingly enough, I’ve applied a damp cloth to a flat surface in order to clean it a few other times in my life.”

The guy was touchy. If Silver had that kind of money, he’d never do his own cleaning. He’d hire someone to follow him around that he could hand shit to. The touchiness could be Jamie getting under Gavin’s skin. Like that wasn’t bound to happen sooner rather than later.

Or maybe there was a problem with communication. Though they were both sarcastic, Gavin was a lot quieter. They’d both be happier if one of them said something. And Silver owed Gavin. Giving him the 4-1-1 on his boyfriend’s issues was the least Silver could do.

“You really like him? Jamie?” Silver asked.

Gavin straightened immediately. “Ah—”

Silver held up his hands. “Relax. I’m not hitting on you.” Though that car was something. “Unless…?” He let it trail off hopefully.

“No.” Gavin’s voice was firm.

“So. Do you?”

A tiny smile teased the corners of Gavin’s mouth. “I do.”

“Well, maybe you need to tell him that. He seems kind of weird about the idea of you guys being a couple.”

“Does he?” Gavin sounded like that was something to be amused by rather than a problem.

“Christ. I just said that.” What the hell was the point of trying to help people? Silver grabbed the spatula and tongs Eli had sent him out for and stomped back into the house.

Jamie was doing the dishes, and Silver was only too glad to dump the utensils into the soapy sink so the water sloshed.

“Thanks for the shower, brat.”

“You’re welcome.”

“Teenagers,” Jamie said in disgust. “Reminds me. How’s your buddy’s car? He get a new solenoid?”

“Yeah, I think,” Silver muttered, guilt knotting the muscles of his spine until he felt himself shrinking. When Eli had thrown Silver a birthday party, Silver had wheedled a ride out of Marco. But when they left, the car wouldn’t start until Jamie did something involving sneering, snarling and sparks in the engine. Predictably, Marco’s control-freak older brother had acted like it was Marco’s fault that the piece-of-shit car had something wrong with it when they got it back, leaving Marco carless for weeks. Marco had sent a bunch of texts lately, but Silver hadn’t answered.

He tapped out a quick
How’re you doing?
text to Marco.

“You think?” Jamie asked. “You guys seemed tight enough at the party.”

What the hell planet was Jamie on that he thought Silver and Marco were tight? He probably only worried about Silver hitting on Gavin. “Seriously? Are you giving me boyfriend advice when you don’t even know if you’ve got one?”

“Suit yourself.” Jamie turned sharply. “The fuck do I know is right,” he muttered under his breath.

Silver remembered he was trying to do Gavin a solid, and pushed away the irritation brought on by heat and guilt about blowing Marco off and by being in the same room with Jamie.

Silver found a dish towel in a drawer and took a glass off the counter. “You guys are good.”

“Huh?” Jamie snapped his head back around.

“I watched. He’s really into you.”

Jamie’s eyes narrowed with suspicion.

Putting the glass away in a cabinet, Silver reached for another one to dry. “Maybe you should have like a relationship talk. Like ‘where do you see this going’ or whatever?”

“Yeah. No.” Jamie let the soapy water drain out of the sink. His voice wasn’t as gruff as it usually was when he said, “So, your buddy. He got an issue with you being positive?”

“None of his business. He’s just a friend.”

“Still. Must be hard.”

Silver shrugged. He didn’t plan on fucking anyone anytime soon. If he did, he’d worry about it then.

Marco’s pissed-off answer of
Why? Need a ride somewheres?
came back two hours later while Silver was tucked up in a chair, headphones on as he poked around on the tablet and tried to ignore Quinn and Eli on the couch. They weren’t fucking or making out. That would have been easier to deal with. They weren’t cuddling, exactly. Quinn was reading a book, and Eli was watching something on Bravo that had to do with clothes.

But they were touching in little ways. Quinn’s arm along the back of the couch by Eli’s shoulders, Eli running a hand along Quinn’s thigh or through his hair every once in a while. It was disgusting. Not the causal affection between them, but Silver’s reaction. The way he was wrestling with a great big, messy, hungry ball of envy. Hiding behind the headphones and tablet wasn’t working anymore, couldn’t keep him from driving his nails into his palms because he wanted someone to touch him like that, in a way that didn’t mean anything while it still meant everything.

He pushed to his feet. “I’m going to bed.”

“Good night.” Quinn glanced up and blinked as if his eyes were refocusing.

Eli offered a smile. “Night. Don’t forget to call Zeb tomorrow. About tutoring.” He added with an eyebrow waggle.

Silver shut himself in his room and sprawled on the bed. Could he get more pathetic? Cowering in his room at nine thirty. He hadn’t been to bed as early as nine thirty since middle school.

Rolling on to his stomach, he pulled out his phone and texted Marco back.
Sorry been out of touch. Got busted. Just got out.
Funny how it was close to the truth. His lying muscles would get all flabby if he kept sticking so close to the truth.

Marco’s answer was immediate this time.
Busted?

For a guy who lived in a part of the city that made Silver nervous, Marco could be hella naive.

Cops picked me up. Fake ID.

Puñeta!
Fucking
pendejos.
You okay?

Marco also loved drama. And any chance to be seen as more badass than he was. If he really wanted to stir up shit, he could tell his extremely scary older brother about having a taste for dick, but Marco wasn’t that stupid.

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