Open Seating (3 page)

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Authors: Mickie B. Ashling

Tags: #gay romance

BOOK: Open Seating
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“Listen, Seth. I have to go to the restroom. I’m going to sneak under the ropes and find the closest one.”

“They’ll make you stand in the back of the line when you return.”

“No, they won’t.”

“We’re in England, where everyone respects the almighty queue.”

“I can always pull out my dick and pee right here. Would you prefer that?”

“Have I told you how disgusting you are at times?”

Bryce started to unzip, and Seth gripped his hand. “Stop it,” he hissed.

“I need to piss.”

“Give me your carryall and hurry up,” Seth said. “I don’t want any problems before we even hit the street.”

“I got this, Seth.”

Bryce snuck under the ropes, apologizing along the way, and after clearing the mob, he followed the signs to the restrooms. He almost cried in relief when he stood over the urinal and got rid of a quart of liquid that had accumulated overnight. He was washing his hands as the door opened and in walked the hot flight attendant in red and white. They both smiled.

“Well, fancy meeting you here,” the Brit said amiably.

Bryce cocked his head. “About that offer?”

“Which offer, sir?”

“The one you were about to make before my traveling companion butted in.”

“Aren’t you two in a relationship?” the cutie asked.

“Hell, no,” Bryce said.

“He’s quite territorial for a friend.”

“He’s got some issues. Let’s stop talking about Seth and get down to business.”

They both looked around to make sure they weren’t being observed, and when they realized they’d lucked out, quickly made their way to the enclosed stalls in the back. As soon as the door locked, Bryce moved efficiently, running his hands all over the eager man who let him take charge. Within minutes, Bryce had the guy pinned up against the wall with his pants down, his thighs and his ass in perfect view. He pulled the condom out of his pocket, ripped it open with his teeth, and rolled it onto his cock, which was primed and ready.

A second before breaching the guy, he stopped and asked, “You okay with this, buddy?”

“Absolutely, sir. Welcome to the UK.”

By the time Bryce got back to his place in line beside Seth, he’d been subjected to righteous muttering and thinly veiled insults from the passengers who felt he was jumping the line. He had to explain over and over about his need to use the restroom while apologizing profusely, but God, he didn’t give a shit. The side trip had been so worth it. He’d exchanged contact info with his hookup and pecked him on the lips as he exited. Both of them were confident they’d never see each other again, but they went through the motions.

Buoyant from a most satisfying orgasm, Bryce didn’t even flinch when Seth leaned in and whispered, “You reek of sex. Where the hell have you been?”

Bryce turned his head. “Starting my quest to learn everything about the landscape.”

Seth squeezed his arm and pulled him a little closer. “Tell me you didn’t screw someone in the bathroom.”

“I didn’t screw someone in the bathroom.”

“You’re lying.”

“Sure am,” Bryce said. “Keep moving, Seth. We’re up next.”

Chapter 3

 

 

SETH WAS
gearing up to unleash his tirade against sleazy restroom hookups when he found himself standing in front of the formidable-looking government agent inspecting his passport.

“How long will you be in England, sir?”

“About three weeks,” Seth replied.

“Business or pleasure?”

“Pleasure,” Seth said automatically, glancing over at Bryce who was watching him with a wry grin on his face. The handsome bastard looked as smug as a panther who’d blithely dragged off his early morning meal.
Jesus!
This was only their first day and already Seth was beginning to realize he was naïve to think that studying Bryce on the prowl would be enjoyable. The man should have come with some kind of warning label. Seth’s sheltered existence had not prepared him for this blatant disregard for rules when it came to dating in 2016. In truth, the word
dating
didn’t even apply in this case. Had Bryce really done it with some stranger in the restroom? Wasn’t it against the law? Didn’t this kind of stuff only happen in porn films? Then again, when was the last time he and Mark had actually sat down and watched porn? Seth couldn’t even remember.

Once his passport was stamped, he was herded on to the next phase of the arrival nightmare: retrieving his luggage. Bryce was right behind him, and within minutes, they were rushing toward the carousel assigned to their flight. Luggage had long since been unloaded, and Seth spotted his two pieces immediately. They were hard to miss because he’d attached two rainbow-colored pom-poms on the handles for ease of recognition. It had been suggested by the cruise line on their website under tips and recommendations. Bryce hadn’t read anything, having hopped on the plan last minute, so he didn’t have any special tags to make his luggage stand out. It would take a while to find his black Samsonite suitcases, which blended in with the other hundred rolling by.

“Remind me to buy you some pom-poms when we go into town,” Seth mentioned. “We’ll never find your bags at this rate.”

“Like hell you will,” Bryce said. “I’ll find my luggage.”

“Why? Are the pom-poms too fruity for you?”

Bryce snorted. “No, more like geriatric. You’re acting like we’re in our sixties, dude.”

“It wasn’t my idea,” Seth said indignantly. “The cruise line recommended it.”

“Because a lot of their passengers are retired,” Bryce said. Turning toward Seth, he inquired, “Do you even know the age demographic on this cruise? Will there be young people, or will we be trampled by wheelchairs and walkers?”

Seth’s eyes widened. “What is it with you and aging?”

“I don’t like old people,” Bryce admitted. “They’re depressing as fuck.”

“Not all of them,” Seth protested.

“The ones I’ve had business dealings with are pitiful. I don’t need a preview of my future, Seth. I’d rather dwell in the here and now and be around people who energize me by living in the moment instead of reminiscing about the past.”

“Sometimes memories are all they have,” Seth said somberly. “Have you ever thought of that?”

“I try not to think of them at all.”

“You’re being unrealistic for someone who’s approaching fifty. You
will
age whether you like it or not. Why not accept it graciously rather than fight it every step of the way?”

Bryce said something under his breath Seth didn’t catch, and before he could ask him to repeat it, the guy was leaning forward to pluck his two suitcases off the moving belt.

“Let’s go,” he said brusquely, putting an end to their conversation.

At customs, they were asked the usual questions about fruit, animal products, and firearms. Seth and Bryce replied in the negative and were waved through. At the arrival area, Seth scanned the crowd, looking for someone with a sign or a uniform identifying them as employees of the cruise line.

“I was sure we’d find someone from the shuttle service to pick us up,” Seth said. “We paid for transfers from the airport to the hotel.”

“So where are they?”

Seth shrugged. “I don’t know.”

“Did they give you a number to call?” Bryce asked reasonably.

“No. All I was told is that someone will meet us in the arrival area.” Seth hated to sound like an idiot, and he knew his voice had risen to a needy whine, but he was exhausted and cranky. He hadn’t slept on the plane, unlike Bryce, and all he could think of was soaking in a hot tub and then going to bed.

“Do you have the number of the cruise line on your phone?”

“Actually, I do,” Seth said, livening up. He pulled the iPhone out of his shirt pocket and turned it on. Staring at it expectantly, he frowned as the phone kept buffering, looking for a signal, and then finally asking for a password when the airport Wi-Fi came up in the little window. “I don’t know the password,” he said, nonplussed.

“Shouldn’t it be free?”

“Apparently not.” Seth was annoyed. “It’s ridiculous. An airport should have it for free.”

“Turn off your Wi-Fi and let it roam.”

“Do you have any idea what the costs will be?”

“I don’t give a fuck, Seth. I’ll pay the goddamn bill.”

“That’s not the point,” Seth countered.

“What then? Do you want to stand here all day or get going?”

“Of course I want to go,” Seth relented. “I’m tired and sleepy.”

“Why don’t we just take a cab to the hotel? It’ll probably cost as much as the long-distance call if you have to use roaming.”

“I guess we could do that.”

“Come on,” Bryce said, heading outside.

They didn’t talk much as their cab joined hundreds of other early morning commuters driving into London. Despite the gridlock in several spots, they made it to the hotel in under an hour, good timing according to their taxi driver. It was nine in the morning when they finally arrived at the hotel, and they were informed that their room wasn’t ready.

“But we’re part of the tour,” Seth protested.

“Which tour might that be, sir?” the concierge asked in a proper English accent.

Seth mentioned the cruise line. “I assumed you’d know that flights from the US arrive routinely in the morning. Waiting until 2:00 p.m. to check in is going to be a hardship. I’m sleep deprived, and a hot shower and comfortable bed would be most welcome.”

“I understand, sir, but perhaps you can take it up with the representative at the tour desk.”

“What if we pay the early check-in fee?” Bryce interjected. “Will that fix the problem?”

“Let me go and talk to the tour operator first,” Seth said. “They’re going to get an earful from me after the mix-up at the airport.”

“Knock ’em dead, tiger. I’ll be waiting right here,” Bryce said, crossing one leg over the other and leaning against the front desk. He looked like a flipping cowboy minus the hat and boots. Seth supposed it was Bryce’s attitude that brought Clint Eastwood and his spaghetti westerns to mind. Good looks and supreme confidence made for a winning combination.

Seth stalked over to the desk the concierge pointed out and let his feelings be known in no uncertain terms. The woman behind the desk listened sympathetically and pulled a clipboard off the desk, scanning the list.

“I’m terribly sorry for the confusion, Mr. Wilder. I have no idea why they didn’t pick you up at the airport, but rest assured you’ll be given a shipboard credit for the expenses you incurred.”

The polite reply did a lot to diminish Seth’s bad mood. In a softer tone, he explained, “To be honest, miss, that’s the least of it. My traveling companion and I would like to check in, and they’re telling me we have to wait until two o’clock. I’m exhausted and can’t wait that long.”

“Give me one minute, sir.”

Seth smiled. “I’ll give you five if you come back with a good solution.”

She was frowning when she returned.

“I gather you were unsuccessful?”

“The best I could do was persuade them to let you check in at eleven. There is nothing available at the moment.”

Seth leaned back in his chair, feeling his anger deflate when he realized that no amount of histrionics would fix the problem. “That’s unfortunate.”

“I’m so sorry.”

“Is there any place we can leave our bags?”

“Yes, there’s a luggage room. Why don’t you allow us to take care of that, Mr. Wilder? In the meantime, you and Mr. McFarland are invited to have a full English breakfast, which is still being served in the main dining room.”

“I’d like to freshen up first,” Seth said, standing up. “Where can I do that?”

“There’s a men’s room downstairs, sir,” she informed him. “Veer left at the bottom of the stairs. You can’t miss it.”

“Okay. Let me tell Bryce first.”

“We’ll have the suitcases sent straight up to your room the minute it’s ready.”

“Thank you.”

“Would you like us to take your carry-on?”

Seth shook his head. “No, my laptop is in there, and I’d rather have it close at hand. I would lose my mind if it were to be misplaced.”

“I’m sure we’ll do our best to see that doesn’t happen, sir.”

Seth sighed. “No disrespect, miss, but I’ve had too many surprises in the last two weeks. If it’s all the same to you, I’ll bring it to the dining room.”

“That’s entirely up to you, sir.”

“Thank you,” he replied. Seth was pleased for some reason. He’d made his point without sounding like an asshole or a total nutcase. This would serve as a good lesson for the future. He and Mark had planned their trip down to the last detail, but they’d neglected two critical items—cancellation insurance and check-in times. He turned and headed back toward the concierge’s desk and gave Bryce an update.

“I’m okay with getting some breakfast first,” Bryce assured him. “No biggie.”

“I’ll meet you in a few minutes,” Seth said. “I’d like to use the facilities first.”

“You want me to take your bag?”

Seth hesitated.

“Do you need something in there?”

“Actually, I do,” Seth said, using that excuse as an out. He didn’t dare tell Bryce he was terrified of being parted from his laptop for even one second. The guy would laugh at him, and Seth couldn’t deal with any more humiliation right then. “I’ll be back in a flash.”

The hotel restroom was beautiful, all gilt and marble, a far cry from the utilitarian facilities he’d seen at some places back home. Each stall was completely enclosed from top to bottom, affording one strict privacy. After Seth did his business, he washed his hands and rinsed his face, exiting the room a little more settled. He knew it was three in the morning in Chicago, way past his bedtime, and he should have been wilting like overcooked noodles, but he was getting his second wind. Hopefully breakfast would energize him even more.

Bryce was already digging in, and Seth looked at the heaping plate of food and almost gagged. “Are those baked beans?” he asked in shock. “For breakfast?”

“Yup,” Bryce said, chewing enthusiastically. “The Brits sure know how to eat hearty. Check out the spread, Seth. They’ve got all kinds of shit.”

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