Better Than Chance (7 page)

I found Aaron bent over a bush a few feet away from the door. He was cloaked in near darkness, his body shaking in the cool, heavy mist of the now early morning hour. I went to his side and ran my hand over his back soothingly, muttering words of comfort. He turned to me and buried his face in my chest as he softly cried.

“Honey, it’s okay. It’ll be fine. Don’t worry.” Over and over again, I muttered the same calming words.

“Oh, Jay. Damn, that was awful!”

“Come on, let’s sit under the eave till Peter gets back. It’s too wet out here.”

“Who’s Peter?”

“My… never mind. Are you okay? What the hell happened?”

“I don’t really know. I was dancing and… you remember that guy with the muscles at the club?”

“Yeah, I remember.” I wanted to do serious harm to that prick.

“I don’t really know if it was him now, but I think he kissed me while we were dancing, and he had a tablet on his tongue that he was trying to pass to me. I thought maybe it was E, but I don’t take candy from strangers anyway. So I turned my head and spit it out while I danced. I don’t think he noticed, and I didn’t think anything would happen since I got rid of it quickly, but….”

He looked at me with tears in his eyes.

“Jay, if I hadn’t spit it out… if I ate that… what if you hadn’t been with me? What if…?”

“Shhh. I was and you’re going to be fine. Whatever that was must have been pretty damn strong, though.”

“I still don’t feel so good.”

We both stopped when we heard footsteps on the path coming toward us. Peter spotted us sitting on the stoop near the door. I had my arm wrapped protectively around Aaron, who was leaning on me heavily.

“Feeling better?” Peter’s shrewd gaze seemed to take in more than Aaron’s wakeful state. It was as though he were trying to gage our relationship based on our proximity… how close we sat together, how tightly I held him.

“Yeah.” Aaron looked in Peter’s direction. I doubt he was able to get a good look at him because he was mostly hidden in the shadows. “Who are you?”

“I’m P—”

“He’s Peter Morgan. My boss,” I said meaningfully.

“Oohhh. So you’re the one who—” I pinched Aaron hard, willing him to shut the hell up. “Ouch!” Aaron swiveled in my tight hold and cast a stink-eyed glare at me.

“Yes, A, he’s the one who helped me get you home.” I willed Aaron to just say thanks so we could get him inside and say our good-byes to Peter.

“Um… thank you. I don’t remember much from the club, but thanks.”

“No problem. I overheard you telling Jay you think you may have been drugged. It would probably be a good idea for you to see a doctor to be on the safe side. I can give you a lift to the ER. What do you say?”

Peter stepped farther into the light of the streetlamp, his incredibly handsome face was now in full view. I heard Aaron’s small gasp and pinched him a second time. He could drool later. I wanted Peter to go home. I could take Aaron to the hospital myself, and Morgan could stop playing the Good goddamned Samaritan.

“I’ll take him.” My voice was sharper than I intended, and Peter gave me a perturbed look.

“I don’t want to go to the hospital. I’m fine. Or I will be. I just need to sleep. I’m really tired.” Aaron looked around as though he were finally taking in his surroundings. “Why are we outside? Let’s go upstairs. Come on. You can come too, Peter the Boss.”

I remained silent, but kept a close eye on Peter. He was clearly accustomed to making decisions and having his recommendations followed. He seemed to be weighing whether he should press a trip to the hospital or let it go.

“Fine. Let’s get you upstairs.” Peter held up Aaron’s key and stepped around us to reopen the wrought-iron-and-glass door of the building.

I helped Aaron up and followed Peter into the pale light of the foyer. He stopped at the elevator and pressed the button before turning back to survey us.

“I can take it from here. Thank you, Mr. Morgan.”

“You’re welcome, but I want to make sure you get upstairs all right.” Peter rubbed at the back of his neck absently, but spared me a glance, which said he figured I wouldn’t leave it alone. I didn’t.

“This isn’t a date, Mr. Morgan. I got this.”

Peter chuckled softly as he held the elevator door open with a mock flourish for Aaron and me. Aaron’s head swiveled comically between the two of us. I knew it had to kill him not to say anything. Peter stepped into the car after us, his eyebrows raised in amusement.

“Trust me, Mr. Reynolds. I know this isn’t a date.”

“What is that supposed to mean?”

“Just what I said. No hidden meaning. If we were, in fact on a date, we wouldn’t be a threesome, and we wouldn’t—”

“Be men.” I finished for him. “Got it.”

“I didn’t say that, did I?”

“You didn’t have to,” I countered.

Aaron cleared his throat just as the elevator door opened to the fifth floor. We walked single file down the narrow, dim hallway, following Aaron to apartment 5E. Peter silently handed him his keys, and we watched Aaron fiddle with the lock for about twenty seconds before I finally grabbed it back and opened the door myself. Aaron rolled his eyes at me, but he was obviously exhausted and probably thankful for the intervention.

I turned on the entry light and ran over to adjust the thermostat. “Damn, Aaron. It’s freezing in here!”

Aaron nodded sleepily and made his way to his bedroom, peeling off his shirt and working on the belt of his jeans as he moved in a trance-like state. I was about to go after him but thought I should probably deal with our third party. He was on his cell phone, speaking low. Girlfriend, I assumed until I heard him asking for advice about Aaron’s condition. Well maybe his girlfriend was a nurse or a doctor.

“Yeah, okay, Maggs. You too. Bye.” He ended his call and sighed.

“Girlfriend? What’s her deal? Has she been roofied before too?” I hated the tone of my voice. I sounded jealous, which was as far from truth as possible. This time, Peter looked a little annoyed too. Fine by me.

“No, smartass. That was my sister, Maggie. She’s a resident at Emory University Hospital. I thought she might have some words of wisdom about your friend’s situation.”

Oh. Oops.

“Oh. Well, what did she suggest?”

“Sleep and fluids. She said if he’d already been sick and was alert, he probably had avoided the full effect of being drugged. Hospital would still be a good idea, but she agreed that other than observing him, there wasn’t much more they could do for him. So… that means you’ll have to observe him, Reynolds. Are you up for that?”

“I’ll be fine.” The look he gave me was dubious at best. “Really. We’ve taken too much of your evening as it is. Aaron’s going to be okay, and I’ll be the best Florence Nightingale I can possibly be.”

“Lucky him.” Sarcastic bastard. I could tell he was frustrated with me but he didn’t push any further. He walked toward the door and looked me over as he turned the handle. “You’re a good friend. I’m sure he’s in capable hands. Good night.”

I stared after him, wondering what to make of this strange evening and Peter Morgan having anything to do with it.

A
ARON
SLEPT
fitfully, finally awakening at nine the next morning. He found me in his living room, cuddled under a throw blanket, reading celebrity trash magazines. I had long since abandoned trying to sleep. After waking Aaron to check his pulse every couple of hours and generally make sure he was alive, I knew there was little to no chance I’d get any rest myself. I was too keyed up, and I wanted my own bed.

“Coffee?” he asked hopefully.

“I don’t know how to work your machine. Make it for us, honey. You look 110 percent better. How are you feeling?” I unfolded my long legs out from under me and got up to join him in the kitchen.

“How do you not know how to make coffee, Jay? It’s like getting a driver’s license. Surely, everyone should have that basic skill?” Aaron shook his sleep-mussed hair in despair.

“I know how to make—”

“No. You don’t. Don’t lie. But to answer your question… I’m fine.” I raised my eyebrows. “Really. I don’t even have a headache. In fact, after I make us coffee and a bite to eat, I’m going for a run. Want to come with me?”

“Hell no! I’m glad you’re feeling better. In fact, I am very, very relieved to hear that, however… I am so damn tired. I can’t even begin to think about exercise. Maybe later. Thank God it’s Sunday, is all I have to say. I’ll need all day to recover from last night!”

“Oh the drama!” Aaron turned back to face me once he was satisfied that the coffee machine was working its magic.

“I know. Awful.” We stared at each other across the tiny galley kitchen. “Aar, I was really scared.”

“I know. Me too.”

Aaron launched his small, lithe body at me, wrapping his arms around my neck. I held him close to me, breathing in his scent. He hadn’t taken a shower yet this morning, and even though last night had been rough, Aaron still smelled good. And alive.

“I can’t lose you, A. Please be more careful,” I whispered.

“I was careful,” he insisted, pulling out of my embrace. “We need to talk to the manager of that club and warn them. I can’t prove anything, but maybe they can keep an eye on that muscleman. And other assholes like him. Oh my gosh, Jay, think about what could have happened to some naive twink looking for a good time! We need to do something!”

“You’re right. I’ll call the club today. After I take a nap.”

Aaron turned back to grab two mugs. He gestured for me to go back toward his sofa to sit. I obeyed him and offered my half of the throw to cover his legs while we shared our coffee.

“So….” Aaron began, his expressive hazel eyes twinkling at me.

“So what?”

“Jay, stop stalling and tell me about your super hunky boss! You did not mention how delicious he was!”

“Actually I did, but that quickly faded when I was forced to correct my paragraph structuring for the umpteenth time. Then he didn’t seem quite so attractive anymore.”

“Hmm. Well, he looked mighty fine to me last night! And actually….”

I looked over at my friend expectantly when he didn’t finish his sentence right away.

“What?”

“I sense he may have a crush on you, Jaybird.” Aaron singsonged.

I smacked his leg playfully and rolled my eyes.

“Well, your senses are off. Not surprising after last night, but I’m sure you’ll be back to normal in no time.”

Aaron smacked me back.

“I know these things. Hunky boss man has the hots for you.”

“Aaron, he’s straight. And I think he has a girlfriend. So you, my friend, don’t know shit.”

“I have excellent gaydar. I kinda wish there was a test with a monetary reward. I’d be a millionaire! So why don’t you believe me? Peter… that’s his name, right?” He paused for breath to get my confirmation before he continued. “Well, Peter is gay or at least bi, and methinks he likes you.”

“Methinks? Thanks, Shakespeare. I’m sorry, but I disagree with you on all points. He isn’t gay and he doesn’t have a crush on little ole me. Leave it.”

Aaron stopped midbreath before shrugging good-naturedly and taking a sip from his mug.

“Whatever you say. I still need to thank him. He was really nice to help us like he did.”

I nodded in agreement.

“I promise I won’t keep bringing this up after I say just one more thing….”

“Okay. What do you have to say?” I rolled my eyes, knowing where my friend was heading. Aaron loved pretty things, and there was no way he was done discussing the hotness of my boss.

“Have you wondered what your supposedly straight Peter was doing in our gayborhood in the wee hours of the morning?” He waggled his eyebrows comically, making me giggle. “I mean, c’mon, Jay. You have to at least ask. Saturday night in the Circle is for the gays, and since he’s not new to the city, what else would he be doing if he wasn’t looking for a hookup?”

“I don’t know, and believe me, I wondered the same thing.”

S
OMEHOW
I
survived the rest of the weekend. I placed a call Sunday afternoon to Boutique and left a message for the manager to call me. I agreed with Aaron that nothing could be proved, but it seemed irresponsible to say nothing. Not everyone was wise to the ways of horny bastards. I couldn’t stop thinking about how something much worse could have happened. I decided to place a call to the local police department as well. Better safe than sorry.

I also couldn’t stop thinking about Peter. But now, it wasn’t about how much I hated him or anything to do with work at all. He had been a godsend Saturday night… unfailingly generous with his time and patience. I felt myself revising my perception of him. After all he did for Aaron and me he surely couldn’t be that bad.

When I went to the gym on Sunday afternoon, I wondered if I’d see him out and about. It’s like when you’re a kid and you see your teacher at the grocery store one day, and you think, “What are they doing out of school?” The same thing happens sometimes when you are older. At least it did to me. My personal life and professional life had crossed Saturday night in a most peculiar way, and I felt unsettled by my encounter with Peter.

By Monday, I was almost nervous about running into him at the office. Since we were no longer working closely on a project, the odds of me seeing him were slim. He tended to travel and interface with the clients more than my position allowed. But I couldn’t deny that I had butterflies. Would it be totally embarrassing when we saw each other next, or would he pretend it never happened? And all of my worrying begged the question: Why did I care? Number one, I was fairly sure he was straight in spite of what Aaron thought. And number two, he was a coworker. It was highly inappropriate of me to think of him at all. All indications were that my crush was back. Damn it! Hating him wasn’t good, but neither was having a crush on him. I needed to find my way to a neutral state so I wouldn’t feel so much angst around him.

3