Better Than Friends (5 page)

“It’s okay. You don’t have to explain. It looked pretty busy when we drove by.”

“Saturday nights are always crazy. I have a great staff, so usually they don’t need me at all, but….”

I smiled at him, loving that he felt the need to explain. Standing here in the moonlight with Jack after riding behind him on his Harley dressed in suits and tuxedos was more than I would have imagined. I was happy in the moment, and that alone was a tremendous feeling.

I followed Jack toward the stately old fountain in the middle of the circle, noting a few other patrons on nearby benches as I took a seat next to him. Dupont Circle was a pretty oasis in the middle of a heavy DC-traffic area. In the midnight hour, it was pleasant, with the sound of water trickling from the old fountain and the lights from overhead lending a tranquil vibe to the city park. I was struck by a feeling of something mystical and magical in the air. I felt content once again to enjoy the moment and not dwell on the knowledge it wouldn’t last.

“I rarely come here anymore. Remember a couple winters ago when we got that big storm?” I looked at Jack and continued when he nodded. “Well, I came with Matt and some other friends for the snowball fight. It was a blast! I’d never seen so many adults act like kids in one place.”

“I bet I was there too.” Jack smiled, turning slightly to look at me.

“Really? That’s cool. I wonder if I beaned you with my rocket arm.” Jack laughed as I feigned indignation. “Hey! It’s true! I played Little League for years. I wasn’t half bad, either.”

“You like baseball?” Something in Jack’s tone made me study him more closely. He sounded like an overeager kid. Interesting.

“Of course. Do you?”

“Absolutely. ‘Baseball was, is, and always will be to me the best game in the world.’ So said Babe Ruth, and I one hundred percent agree.”

I couldn’t control the bubble of laughter at his impassioned baseball speech. It was oddly… well, geeky and endearing coming from someone like Jack.

“You can quote Babe Ruth? That’s….”

“I can tell you more about baseball past and present than you’ll ever want to know. I’m a font of interesting and sometimes ridiculous baseball trivia,” he said with self-deprecating humor marked with a devilish waggle of his thick eyebrows.

“Cool. So I take it you’re a Nationals fan, right?” I teased, knowing I’d get a reaction. I wasn’t disappointed.

“
What?
I’m from Atlanta. Try again, smart-ass.”

“Shoot. Sorry about that.”

“Hmph. I’ve been a Braves fan since I was old enough to hold a bat. Who’s your team? Don’t tell me… the Dodgers?”

“Ha. I’m from San Francisco originally. The mighty Giants, my friend. World Series champions… again.”

“Cocky little shit. So, when did you make the move East?”

“Fuck, as fast as I could. When I was eighteen I left… for college.”

“And… you went… where?” He made that same “get on with it” gesture he’d made earlier in the day, as though he were frustrated with my lack of information-giving. It made me smile.

“Well, I started at Berkeley but I switched midyear to Georgetown. I liked it, so I stayed.”

“For undergrad and law school?”

I nodded.

“You don’t like change, do you? I’d bet on that.” The hair on the back of my neck bristled at the astute observation. But he continued before I could comment. “Why did you move all the way across the country, then? Doesn’t add up.”

Talk about a buzzkill. Fuck, I needed a drink if I were really going down that path. I swallowed hard and pasted an overly bright smile on my face.

“Oh,” Jack said before I had a chance to reply.

“Oh what?” My tone was sharp and biting, but I couldn’t help it. I gave myself credit for usually not letting my past bother me; however, I sucked at it tonight. I could feel that old familiar anger bubbling near the surface and making my skin prickle. When would it go away for good? I knew the message from my brother that morning was to blame, but Jack didn’t know me. He didn’t deserve any angst from me for having the audacity to make an astute observation.

“Hey, relax.” His voice was soothing and his eyes were kind. I was keyed up, though, and it was hard for me to want to do anything besides walk away. Knowing I’d look like a total ass, I stayed where I was, perched on the park bench like I didn’t have a care in the world. I didn’t, I reminded myself. That shit was a decade old. The past.

“Curt, look at me.” Jack set his thumb and forefinger under my chin and turned my face toward him. “I’ve been there too, man.”

I wanted to ask him what he thought he knew but I didn’t say anything. I couldn’t. His eyes were too knowing and honest. Why couldn’t we just go back to baseball? I nodded and looked up at the fountain.

Jack’s phone vibrated again, and though he ignored it, the buzzing provided an easy diversion. He cocked his head as though trying to read me, and thankfully opted for a change in topic.

“I have an idea. You tell me one thing I need to know about Curtis… what did you say your last name is?” I let out the breath I’d been holding and offered him a tentative grin.

“Townsend.” I replied warily.

“Jack Farinelli. Nice to meet you.” He grinned devilishly. “And you can ask me something. Agreed?”

I had to chuckle at his attempt at restoring the lighthearted mood. It was sweet, and though a little disjointed, I appreciated the gesture.

“Can I ask first?”

“Sure. Go ahead.” Jack was now fully facing me on the bench with his right leg bent casually over his left knee. He reached over and ran his thumb enticingly over my cheekbone before meeting my eyes. Damn, he was distracting.

I cleared my throat theatrically and asked the one question that had been on my mind the entire day.

“Do you have a tattoo?”

Jack quirked his eyebrows nearly to his forehead in a funny expression of surprise before he gave in and laughed outright. I joined him. I didn’t even know what was so funny, but I liked his easy sense of humor.

“Yes. That’s it? You, my friend, are easy.” The words were said in a lasciviously mocking tone, which made me laugh again.

“Ha. Probably true. Do you have more than one? If so, how many and where are they?”

We held eye contact for a long moment before we both busted up giggling.

“You have gone well beyond your quota for questions,” he admonished, shaking a finger at me.

I had a sudden desire to take his finger in my mouth and suck on it like he’d done to me earlier. I wondered what he’d say. I wondered if that would get me any closer to actually seeing his body ink, running my fingers over his warm skin. And yeah, I was pretty damn sure there was more than one tat. My tongue felt heavy suddenly. God, this man was sexy.

“You okay?” I resurfaced through my ridiculous haze of lust and tried to focus on the conversation.

“Yeah. Um… so… are you going to answer?”

“Sure, why not? I’m feeling magnanimous tonight. The answer is yes, many, and all over, baby.”

I gulped. Fuck, that was hot. I nodded when I realized speech wasn’t possible. Plus I had the added discomfort of a hard dick to deal with now. I was glad we were sitting. I needed to steer the conversation back to baseball.

“My turn. Since you asked more than one, I will too. Answer the same question you just asked me. And then tell me your favorite thing to do. But… you have to be honest.” He altered his tone to sound like a concerned doctor. “If it’s knitting, you need to tell me.”

I grinned at him and fell a little more under his spell. Knitting? Really?

“Easy enough. I don’t have any body ink. Nor will I probably ever. And—”

“Why not?” Jack brushed my ear in a featherlight touch, making my pulse skip a beat.

“Not my thing.” I shrugged. “And my favorite th—”

“Yes, it is.”

“No, it isn’t.”

“Sure it is. You asked me about my ink because you secretly want some. Admit it.”

“I’ll do no such thing. I like tats. I mean, not all, but on some people they’re really very….” I stopped, suddenly feeling stupidly shy.

“I’m waiting.”

“They can be sexy. Extremely sexy.” My voice lowered a notch of its own accord. It was a little mortifying.

“I totally agree. So, hypothetically speaking, if you were to get one, what would it be?”

“I’m not getting one, so that’s a silly question.”

“There are no silly questions. Silly answers, maybe.”

I stared at him and let out a breath I hadn’t realized I’d been holding. “Something meaningful.”

“Good answer. All of mine mean something to me.” Jack’s expression was intense again. I wondered if he had Peter’s name on him somewhere or the names of other lovers. I didn’t like that idea at all, but didn’t know why that would bother me. I needed to change the subject.

“You asked what my favorite thing to do besides knitting was, right?”

“I did.” Jack gave me a wide grin and ran his right hand over my ear again and through my short hair. I leaned into his touch, willing him to do something more, suggest something. Or was he waiting for me to do the same? A buzzing noise broke the peaceful quiet and was followed by a slight but equally annoying vibration. Jack leaned away from me and pulled his cell out of his pocket. He glanced quickly at the screen before putting it away.

“You have to go, don’t you?”

“Yeah. They’re probably wondering what the fuck my problem is. But first, what do you like to do? Work out? Read? Fish?”

“Well… the truth is I don’t have a lot of time for much besides work these days. I go to the gym, but it’s not necessarily my favorite thing to do.”

“Spit it out. What is your favorite thing? If it’s sex, that’s cool. Actually, it’s more than cool, but don’t tell me. I’ve been half-hard all night around you and now I’ve got to go to the bar, so keep it tame for my sake.”

I laughed, charmed and very fucking pleased he admitted to being as attracted to me as I was to him. It seemed extremely implausible, but I wasn’t about to question.

“Sports. Watching, playing, reading about—”

“What’s your favorite?” he interrupted.

“Football….” I stopped when Jack snorted derisively. “Followed closely by baseball.” He smiled appreciatively at that. “But I also love basketball, hockey, tennis, and—”

“Okay, okay, I get it. Me too. I mean, I love baseball. I like the rest fine, but baseball is definitely number one. Do you want to…? Fuck!” His phone vibrated again, and this time I wanted to grab it from him and throw it in the fountain. “Sorry. I have to get going.”

Jack swiped his hand over his end-of-day manly scruff in a gesture that seemed to indicate frustration and something else. I nodded wordlessly. It was time for good-bye. I was disappointed but I knew this wasn’t going to go anywhere. It had been a great night, and I was lucky to have spent it with Jack.

“Kiss me, Curtis. Once more, and I’ll take you to your friends’.”

The desire in his eyes was enough to spur me forward. I leaned in slightly and gasped as Jack roughly pulled me the rest of the way so I was half sitting on his lap. He took my head between his hands and forcibly molded his mouth over mine. Immediately, he softened the kiss but not the intensity. He licked and stroked his tongue against mine, then placed gentle kisses along my jaw before returning to ravage my mouth. I ran my fingers through his thick hair and down his back. I marveled at his size as my hands explored his upper back and traveled down to his tapered middle. The man was built like a god.

We rested our foreheads together in an effort to catch our breaths and let the silence settle comfortably between us. Words weren’t necessary or desired. It felt good and right to just be. Eventually, we untangled ourselves and made our way back to Jack’s bike. I allowed him to strap the helmet on my head without making a fuss and took his hand when he offered to help me onto my seat. He hopped on with ease, and we were on our way in no time. Jack stopped in front of Matt and Aaron’s condo and waited patiently for me to dismount.

“Thank you. For everything.”

“Thank
you
, Curtis. I dreaded today. Honestly fucking dreaded it. But it turned out much better than I expected.” Jack gave me one of his lopsided grins and kissed my cheek. I handed him the helmet and watched as he set it over his head and fastened it in a fluid motion that bespoke years of practice. He caught my stare and smiled kindly before adjusting the front wheel in preparation to leave me behind. “I’ll see you ’round.”

I nodded once and raised a hand in farewell. I didn’t know if I’d ever see Jack again, but I knew I’d never forget him.

April 21

I
WOKE
up in an unfamiliar bed. My head was throbbing, and my stomach lurched unhappily as I sat up to survey my surroundings. This had to be Matt and Aaron’s guest room. It was a pristine, uncluttered space furnished with a simple desk and the queen-sized bed I’d slept in. There were black-and-white framed photos of friends and family members on the walls, and a couple of prize guitars hung neatly on display in a corner. I gingerly swung my feet around and carefully stood, giving myself a moment to be sure I was steady before I went in search of the bathroom.

I studied myself in the bathroom mirror as I washed my hands. I looked like shit. No two ways about it. I was in for a rotten day. The party the night before hadn’t been overly raucous; it had been a small gathering of twenty or so people with more alcohol and music. The music had been loud, but that was Aaron’s preference. Every once in a while the sound would go down considerably, and I chuckled, knowing that was a good indication Matt had finally reached his limit. He didn’t love techno dance music like Aaron and his friends did. I didn’t mind it and I was feeling mellow enough in the early-morning hours to admit I didn’t mind much of anything. I sighed deeply as I opened the door. I hoped to score a cup of coffee, thank my hosts, and head home to nurse my aching head and upset stomach with a day spent on the sofa watching baseball and not moving an inch if I could help it.