Edges

Chapter Seven

Stiffies was in a huge, brown barn with a pink neon sign, and they’d driven so far down a wooded road to get to it, Shanti was almost surprised anyone could find the place. But the parking lot was full, and a cluster of people stood outside smoking. “Looks crowded,” Shanti said, his heart thudding with anxiety.

“It’s Saturday night,” Mick reminded him.

They parked up, and when Mick shut off the engine, he eyed Shanti with that same soft expression as when he asked about his bruises earlier. “You still okay with this?”

“Not sure.”

Mick stared at him, his eyebrows lowering as he frowned. He was still the most gorgeous thing Shanti had ever seen, and he didn’t want to go into a bar and flirt with other guys. He wanted to go back to Mick’s house and get back in the hot tub with him.

But Mick was trying to prove something to him, or maybe to himself. It mattered to him, even if Shanti didn’t fully understand it. He recalled his surge of emotion while he watched Mick undress by the hot tub earlier, the thoughts he’d been having in that moment: I’ll do anything he wants. As long as he doesn’t leave.

“I’m okay,” Shanti said. “I’m not too much of a baby to go into a bar. But I’ll tell you right now, I already know. The only dude I’m gonna want to pick up in there is you.”

Mick’s dimpled smile appeared. “I’m already a sure thing, Crash. Now listen, the crowd here is usually pretty festive and everyone’s in a good mood, but there are a few bad apples now and then, like any place. If we’re separated, and someone talks to you that you’re not sure about, just find me in the crowd, and I’ll give you a signal if it’s someone I know is bad news.”

“What if I can’t find you or you’re not watching?” Shanti said.

“I’ll be watching,” Mick said. He hesitated, then grabbed Shanti’s head, fingers threading through his hair. “I can’t take my eyes off you.”

Shanti smiled back at him, feeling dopey. Do not fall in love with this man. Do not. As moved as he was that this godlike creature had chosen him, that Shanti might be on the verge of taming some promiscuous sexual beast, he couldn’t fully trust it. After all, the guy was asking to let him watch while Shanti hooked up with other guys in a bar.

But one thing was certain, and he acknowledged it fleetingly before packing it back in its box: he hadn’t thought about his guilt or felt that aching clench of grief in his gut since the moment he walked into Mick’s house earlier. It was like Mick just sucked those bad emotions right out of him, drained it free along with the orgasm he’d jerked from his aching, desperate cock. Any anxiety he felt over Mick’s intentions were small potatoes in light of that, so he’d follow this strange new road for as far as it comfortably led.

“Okay, I’m going in.”

Mick patted his shoulder. “Be strong, soldier. I’ll find you in a little while.”

****

Despite having to fight his way to the bar, Shanti got lucky as a couple of guys left their stools just as he arrived. He pounced and climbed onto one. A thick, bald man immediately took the stool next to him, but paid Shanti no mind as he ordered a drink. I’ll just hide here until Mick comes , he thought.

There were three bartenders on tonight, working a nonstop throng of customers. When a tattooed, female bartender finally approached him, he ordered a double whiskey. He didn’t usually drink hard liquor, but if ever liquid courage was required, it was tonight. The booze instantly warmed and relaxed him, and he dared swivel his stool around and take in his surroundings. In the corner a band played loudly, some jumpy southern rock song, and a cluster of people danced and stomped and twirled by the stage.

While he spotted several groups of men dancing together, there were also women there, male/female couples tossed sporadically into the mix. At the other end of the open space, four pool tables stood on the dusty wooden floor, filled to the max with players. Filling the open space in between, men huddled in groups, drinking beer and laughing.

Blocking his view suddenly, a young, short guy with platinum blond hair and a ski sweater appeared before him. “Wanna dance?” he shouted over the music.

“Oh, um, no thank you!” Shanti said.

“Huh?”

Leaning forward, Shanti shouted in his ear. “No thank you! I just ordered a drink.”

The guy scowled at him for a moment, then moved on.

Eyes darting around the crowd, he could see it was an eclectic mix. While some of the men were young and jockish with short, neat hairstyles and tee shirts that showed off their gym memberships, there were also a lot of flannel-wearing, more rugged types in jeans and work boots. He took a sip of his whiskey and was stunned to see he’d nearly finished it. Nerves; they were a bitch for sobriety.

Through the crowd, a tall figure approached, and he grinned when he saw Mick moving slowly toward him. When he’d nearly reached the bar, an equally tall man in a concert tee shirt and short red hair stopped him by grabbing his shoulder. Mick greeted him with familiarity, a quick hug and a pat on the shoulder. They paused, talking for several minutes. While the interaction didn’t seem particularly intimate, the ugly heat of jealousy burned the nape of Shanti’s neck.

Unwilling to be caught glaring, he swiveled back toward the bar, and tried to get the bartender’s attention. When she finally approached, he ordered another double. Just as she set it down, a thick shoulder leaned into his. He looked up at Mick’s gorgeous green eyes and smiling face. “Hey,” Mick said. “Come here often?”

“Not if I can help it,” Shanti said, enjoying the closeness of the big man’s arm against his.

Leaning his elbows on the bar, Mick said, “So what do you think? Anyone hit on you yet?”

Shanti took a long sip of whiskey. “One guy asked me to dance, but so far I’ve been ignored.”

“That’ll change,” Mick said. “Give it time.”

Mick turned with his back against the bar, crossing his arms as he looked out at the crowd. Shanti swiveled around too, and said, “It’s not what I expected.”

Glancing down at him, Mick shrugged. “How so?”

Watching the groups of men, he shook his head. “I don’t know. Whenever you see gay bars in movies, there are always sweaty guys in half-shirts dirty dancing.”

Mick’s head fall back as he bellowed with laughter. “This is Vermont. The only way you’re gonna see a guy with his belly showing is if his beer gut is too big for his hockey jersey.”

Shanti laughed. “Seriously. Where are all the guys making out and vibing on ecstasy?”

Mick nudged him with his shoulder playfully. “Oh, I’m sorry, you disappointed? You want me to run home and change into my leather pants?”

“Mick!” someone shouted. Shanti saw a buff brunette with a pool cue waving an arm over his head. “You want a game? Terry just bailed on me.”

Mick nodded and waved. “Yeah, gimme a second.” He glanced at Shanti. “You be okay for a while if I play a game of pool?”

“Sure,” Shanti said. “Just don’t leave without me.”

“Not a chance,” he said, and secretly tweaked Shanti’s ass before moving off through the crowd.

Shanti watched him go, coveting his denim covered ass as he walked away. The whiskey was giving him a nice buzz, and he had to admit he was enjoying himself. He hadn’t been exposed to this much stimulation in ages, and he welcomed the distraction from his own dark thoughts. Back against the bar, he relaxed on his stool and sipped his drink, taking it all in.

A few seats down he spotted a young guy looking his way. With black hair, striking blue eyes and a loose white tee shirt with inky tattoos decorating his arms, he looked like a pretty rock star type. When he caught Shanti’s eye, he offered a shy, friendly smile, and raised his glass.

Shanti smiled back, and toasted him with his whiskey. He expected the stranger to approach him then, but the guy turned back around and faced the bar, sipping his drink.

“Hi, how’s it going?” a voice in front of him said.

Shanti turned and saw a cute boyish guy with freckles standing before him, a bit too close for comfort. His short brown hair was a little damp in the front, like he’d been dancing up a sweat.

“Hey,” he responded. “Not too bad, you?”

“You know Mick?” the guy asked, leaning in to his ear.

“Huh?” Shanti asked.

“I saw you,” he said. “Talking to Mick. You know him?”

Shanti glanced over at the pool table, where Mick was bent over, shooting. “Oh, um, yeah. I mean, no, I just met him tonight.”

“I’m Robert,” he said, offering his hand.

Shanti shook his hand, but Robert’s attention had already turned to the pool table. The young guy glared over at Mick, then turned back to Shanti, shaking his head. “If you’re smart, you’ll stay away from that one. He’s a real prick. And impotent too.” He nodded several times, eyes widening. “Not shitting you, he can’t get it up. He shouldn’t be at Stiffies, he should be at Limpies!” He laughed at his own joke, slapping Shanti on the shoulder. “Right?”

Shanti smiled, but couldn’t muster a laugh. “If you say so.” He glanced over at the pool table, and Mick was looking his way. Mick gave Shanti his back, and discreetly made a thumbs down sign behind his ass. Then he slid his other hand back, and holding the pool cue, added a second thumb. Two thumbs down. He glanced back at Shanti, who grinned. Mick smiled quickly, then turned his attention back to the game. Apparently, Robert was a bad bet. Not that Shanti was particularly attracted to him. He had a cute, wholesome look about him, aside from the eyes. There was something shifty there.

“Trust me,” Robert said. “Mick’s bad news. Hey, what did you say your name was?”

“Shanti.”

“Oh cool! Like that store in the village!”

Shanti shrugged. “Don’t know it.”

“Well guess what, Mick the Dick keeps looking at you,” Robert said conspiratorially. “You want to dance? That’ll piss him off.” He laughed again and elbowed Shanti like they were old friends sharing a private joke.

“No thanks,” Shanti said. “I’m not much for dancing.”

“Oh,” Robert said, sounding disappointed. Then his eyes brightened again. “Hey, we should just go stand near him and make out.”

“Near who?” Shanti asked.

“Near Mick! The guy at the pool table that keeps looking at you. The one who was talking to you before? He’s an asshole. Haven’t you been listening to me?”

Shanti frowned. “You sound a little fixated on him, to be honest.”

Robert giggled and slapped his shoulder again. “You’re funny. But seriously, come with me.” He grabbed Shanti’s wrist and tried to tug him off the stool.

Shanti pulled free of his grasp. “Whoa! I said no, dude. You want to torment the guy, go do it yourself. It’s got nothing to do with me.”

Robert’s expression darkened, and he cocked his head to the side. “Oh, I get it. You want him to talk to you. You’re hoping he comes back. Think he actually likes you or something?” He shook his head. “Never gonna happen, Blondie. He’ll hump you and dump you then kick you out before your dick has a chance to dry.”

“Look man, I—”

“You don’t want to listen to me, fuck you.” He grabbed some peanuts from a bowl on the bar and tossed them at Shanti.

“Hey, what the fuck!” Shanti wiped the nuts off his shirt. “Are you insane? Don’t throw shit at me, man.”

“Fucking idiot. I hope you like a limp dick, because Mick Paulson is a fucking—”

“Hey!”

Shanti and Robert turned at the voice. It was the black-haired tattooed guy that had been sitting two stools down, the one with the pretty blue eyes that toasted Shanti. He now stood beside Robert. “I think the guy asked you to move on.”

Robert’s face scrunched as he looked him up and down. “Who the fuck are you? You move on, pretty boy. None of your fucking business.”

Shanti had been hoping Robert would simply run out of steam and go away. He wasn’t even bothered by his rants and insults, or even the peanuts so much. But when he called the handsome stranger pretty boy , it triggered something inside. That nickname was the bane of his own existence back in high school, and it still occupied a furious little corner of his subconscious.

And so, just like that, Shanti found himself in a bar argument, likely aided on by the liquor flowing through his blood.

“Hey Robert,” he said. “Maybe Mick couldn’t get it up because you are just not pretty enough . You ever think of that?”

Robert looked like he’d been slapped, his jaw falling slack, shoulders dropping. “You fucking cocksucker,” he said. “I hope your dick rots off.” Whirling around, he walked off in a huff, pushing people out of his way.

Shanti watched him disappear into the crowd.

“I’m Ryan.”

Turning his attention back to the man with the silky black hair, Shanti realized he wasn’t just pretty, he was incredibly hot . A cute, crooked smile exposed very white teeth, and his eyes were deep set and sapphire blue. The white tee shirt showed off his lean fit body and olive skin, with sexy black tattoos scrolling in patterns down his arms.

“I’m Shanti,” he said, taking his hand. “Thanks for defending my honor, such as it is.”

Ryan laughed, shaking his head. “I didn’t mean to jump in like that, I just couldn’t listen to him anymore. Especially after he threw peanuts at you like a psycho. Can I buy you a drink?”

A quick glance toward the pool table and Shanti caught Mick’s eye. Mick glanced at Ryan, gave a quick shrug then a nod. Shanti interpreted the message as Mick didn’t know him, but shared the opinion on his hotness. Maybe Shanti was reading it wrong, though, because Mick didn’t look quite happy in that moment. But reading all these nonverbal cues was new to him. He was buzzed, and embarking on the art of wooing a stranger like he knew what he was doing. He did not. He was totally winging it.

Lifting his near empty whiskey glass, Shanti smiled at Ryan. “How about I buy you one? I’ve had two of these already, and I don’t usually drink liquor.”

“How bout I buy you a beer, then?” Ryan said.

Shanti hesitated, then decided fuck it. He was here to have an experience. Mick never said he had to do it sober. “Sure, thanks.”

Ryan ordered two beers. He handed Shanti his bottle, and said, “You want to move over there? Less people, it’s easier to talk.”

Shanti glanced over at Mick, but he was engaged in conversation. He looked back at Ryan. “Lead the way.”

Ryan gave him his cute smile, and moved on, gently patting Shanti’s shoulder. Shanti followed him through the crowd to the other side of the bar, where a small ledge edged the wall. He put his beer down, and Shanti did the same. They had more room as they leaned against the wall, and as promised, it was quieter, farther away from the band.

“What do you do?” Shanti asked, placing a bet that Ryan was a musician.

“I’m a ski instructor,” he said. “I work on the mountain.”

“Oh, cool.”

“Do you ski?” he asked.

Shanti laughed and rolled his eyes. “Do you see this little cut under my eye?”

Reaching out, Ryan gently touched his face. “Yeah, what happened?”

“That is how well I ski. I wiped out yesterday on Devil’s Peak.”

Ryan’s white teeth appeared as he laughed, nodding. “Devil’s Peak sucks. It’s too icy up there, no matter how many times they groom it. You wouldn’t believe how many people wipe out on it every year.”

“Well, that makes me feel a bit better.”

“You from around here?” Ryan asked. “I’ve never seen you at the mountain before.”

“Been here about a year, used to live in Boston.”

“Ah, me too!” Ryan said. “I grew up in Dorchester.”

“No way!” Shanti laughed. “I didn’t notice your accent.”

Ryan raised his eyebrows. “Probably because it’s just like yours. It’s like meeting your own species on an alien planet, right?”

“I guess that makes us homies,” Shanti said, and lifted his beer.

Ryan did the same, and they clinked bottles. After taking a sip of beer, Ryan’s gaze did an appraising look over Shanti’s body before he met his eyes again. It sent a current through his gut. Damn, this guy is really cute. Those eyes. Shanti could smell his spicy cologne, and with the alcohol buzzing through his brain, a pleasant dizziness filled him, and vague arousal.

The realization shocked him. This was too comfortable, it felt too easy, talking to this cute guy in the corner with his bedroom eyes and sexy tattoos. He immediately thought of Mick, and their conversation earlier. How he wanted to involve Shanti in this part of his life. Perhaps he’d wanted Shanti to see how easily this could happen, meeting a good-looking stranger, feeling that tingle of attraction. In a weird, fucked up way, maybe this plan was Mick’s way of letting Shanti get to know him better. To see inside of him.

Or maybe Shanti was just drunk and overthinking it.

“What’s wrong?” Ryan asked.

“Huh?” Shanti took a sip of his beer. “Nothing, why?”

Ryan smiled and leaned in closer. “You just got all frowny for a second.”

“Did I? I’m sorry.”

Shrugging, he reached out and snagged a finger through Shanti’s belt loop, pulling him closer. “You sick of talking to me? Because I’m having a nice time with you, Shanti.”

Shanti looked into his sapphire blue eyes, and felt his cock begin to swell. “Not at all,” he said. “I like talking to you.”

Ryan smiled warmly and tugged Shanti closer. He smelled good. He was so close now Shanti could feel his body heat coming through his shirt. “Good,” Ryan said. “What do you do for a living? I didn’t ask.”

“I own a shop in the village,” he said. He waited for the pain to clench his gut, but it didn’t come, numbed out by the alcohol, bar sounds, and the feel of Ryan’s fingers, still linked around his belt loop.

“You live in the village, huh?” Ryan said. “You should come up to the mountain some time. I’ll give you a ski lesson. Not that I’m assuming you need it but...” He grinned as he let go of Shanti’s belt and ran a finger over his cheek. “Might help with your wipe out rate.”

Shanti laughed, but didn’t respond. As much as this young man was arousing, intoxicating, he was here with Mick. He was here for Mick, and he wasn’t about to start making dates with other guys.

“Or,” Ryan said, leaning in so their hips touched, “we could go back to my place, and I could give you a private lesson right now.”

Shanti grinned. “That was tacky.”

Ryan laughed, nodding. “I know, right? It was all I could think of. I’m not good at this. I never pick up guys in bars. You’re just so cute, though.”

A shadow blocked the light, and suddenly Mick was standing beside them, smiling.

“Hey!” Shanti said.

“Hey.” Mick grinned at Ryan, then back at Shanti. “What’s going on over here, then?” He placed his palms on the wall ledge, one on either side of them. “And whatever it is, can I watch?”