Why We Fight (At First Sight Book 4) Page 20

  Funny how things work out.

  I straightened the corset unnecessarily, trying to buy myself some time.

  “You can do this,” I muttered at my reflection. “You got this.”

  I almost believed me.

  Before I could lose my nerve, I was out of Charlie’s room and down the hall.

  The conversation being held in the living room came to a screeching halt the moment they saw me.

  “Holy shit,” Vince breathed. “Dude. You look amazing.”

  “Oh, this ol’ thing?” I said, acting braver than I felt. “It’s nothing.”

  “It’s absolutely not nothing,” Sandy said. “Corey, I don’t even look that good wearing a corset. Christ. You’re giving me a complex.”

  From a drag queen, that was the highest compliment one could receive.

  “Is he allowed to bring a sword inside the leather bar?” Paul asked Charlie. “Because he looks like he needs a sword. And that’s not something I ever expected to say.” He winked at me. “Looking good, Corey. Don’t be surprised if you’re voted Mr. Leatherperson by unanimous vote, even though you’re not competing.”

  I couldn’t help it. I laughed. Which was strangely hard to do since the corset was so tight.

  Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad.

  SCENE: #3.

  Location: Corey’s bedroom.

  Mood: guilt by vegetarian.

  “I can’t believe this,” Tyson Thompson said over Skype Sunday morning. “Do you have any idea how many cows are sacrificed because of the leather industry? It’s a slaughter unrivaled by anything in the known world!”

  “Really,” I said, arching an eyebrow. I was posing in front of my laptop, wanting to get my best friend’s opinion. “Anything in the known world. Anything.”

  He dropped the act, laughing and shaking his head. “Gotta keep up pretenses. You know how it is.”

  “Unfortunately.”

  “You look good,” he said. “Different, but good. Dig the hair.”

  “Thanks. The guy who cut it was named Flavius.”

  “Of course he was,” Ty muttered. “Tucson is so weird. He’s not—”

  A big man suddenly appeared behind Ty, wearing a cop’s uniform. “Who are you talking to?”

  I dropped my voice. “My name is Dirk Steel. Tyson here is paying me to be his leather god, and you’re interrupting our session.”

  Dominic bent over, squinting at the screen. Then his eyes bulged and he started choking. “Corey?”

  I wiggled my fingers at him.

  “This seems like one of those things I don’t want anything to do with,” he said, kissing Ty’s cheek and standing back up. “You look good, Corey. Don’t do anything stupid. I’ve arrested you once. I will transfer to the TPD just so I can do it again. Ty, don’t forget you need to call your brother and grovel more for acting like an entitled jerk. I love you.”

  Ty rolled his eyes. “Yeah, yeah. Love you too.” He turned to look back at Dom. “Stay safe.”

  “Always,” Dom said from somewhere off screen.

  “I thought you apologized already,” I said when Ty turned back. “You know, for the whole entitled jerk thing.”

  “I did,” Ty muttered. “But Dom doesn’t think it was enough.” He rubbed a hand over his face. “And he’s right of course.”

  “He usually is.”

  “Babies, though. Bear and Otter are having babies.”

  “You knew it was going to happen one day,” I told him. I sat down at my desk in front of the laptop. I learned rather quickly that sitting in a corset was the stupidest thing ever, as it pinched and pulled in places I hadn’t expected. “They’re not getting any younger.”

  “Yeah, I guess. It was just… I don’t know. All that stuff happening at once. Izzie. Mom. Babies. Moving back only to find out I was kicked out of the Green Monstrosity so I could live in sin with my boyfriend.”

  “Seafare is exhausting,” I agreed. “But you’ll figure it out. This is a good thing, Ty. All of this. Maybe not your mom, but I think it’s just one ending you needed so something else could begin.”

  He nodded. “I know.” He smiled, and I was struck by how different he was from the boy I’d met on the bench at Dartmouth in the middle of a panic attack. He looked healthier. Whole. “I’ll get over myself.”

  “I know you will.”

  He waggled his eyebrows. “So, Jeremy.”

  I groaned. “Can we not do this?”

  “Oh no,” he said. “It’s like you’ve forgotten how much shit you gave me over Dom. I can’t believe you never thought it’d eventually come back around to you.”

  “It’s not the same,” I snapped. “You and Dom had this whole… destiny thing about you. You were always going to be together. It was just a matter of time.”

  “Why can’t it be the same for you and Jeremy?”

  “I’m wearing half a cow in order to spy on him in a leather bar,” I said dryly. “And he’s thirteen years older than me. And my boss. And wouldn’t be interested in someone like me.”

  His eyes narrowed. “What do you mean someone like you? He would be lucky to have someone as great as you. Did he say something? Oh my god, I am going to come down there and kick his ass—”

  Bless his heart. He would certainly try. “He didn’t say anything. Not like…. We’re friends, Ty. We’re just starting to be friends, and that’s more important than anything else.”

  He watched me for a moment. Then, “You really like him, huh?”

  And since it was just him and me, I said, “More than I thought.”

  He sighed. “Can I give you some advice?”

  I snorted. “This ought to be good.”

  “You are more than you think you are.”

  I was struck speechless.

  He looked down at his hands. “I know you don’t always see it. And I get that. I get why. I tend to do the same. And it used to be a lot worse for me. It sucks being in my head sometimes, but it’s not like it used to be. And a big reason for that is you.”

  “That’s not—”

  “It is,” he said. “You helped me get back on my feet when I thought I’d never be able to stand on my own again. Shit got stupid, and a lot of it was my fault. And you made sure to point that out, though you were never a dick about it.” He paused, considering. “Well, most of the time.”

  I wiped my eyes. “Tough love.”

  “Right,” he said. “And while I may have a high IQ, you’re smarter than I could ever be. You know what’s right for you and what’s not. But I think sometimes you’re so worried about taking care of everyone else, you forget to take care of yourself. You’re like Bear in that regard.”

  “Oh god,” I moaned. “Never say that again.”

  He grinned, though it started to fade almost immediately. “Maybe it’ll be Jeremy.” He held up his hand as soon as I opened my mouth to protest. “Or maybe it won’t be. I agree that nothing should happen between you two now because the dynamic is all off. From what you tell me, Phoenix House sounds pretty great, and you don’t want to fuck that up.”

  “But….”

  He shrugged. “But who knows what could happen in the future? Again, maybe it’ll be Jeremy. Or it’ll be someone else. But whomever you choose to give your love to is going to be someone pretty damn special. And I can’t wait to meet them. You deserve everything good, Corey. I will always believe that.”

  “I love you,” I told him, reaching out to touch his face on the screen. “And I miss you like hell.”

  “I love you too. But I don’t want to ever hear you say the words someone like me ever again that way. Jeremy or anyone else should thank their lucky stars they get to be with you. I know I did.”

  “But we have something better now, don’t we?” I asked.

  “We do,” he agreed. “You’re an honorary Thompson. And that means we’ll never let you go.”

  “That sounds like a threat.”

  “Oh, it is,” he said. “It is.”

/>   LATER THAT afternoon I got a text from Jeremy.

  Good weekend?

  I hesitated before responding. Pretty good. Not doing much. You?

  He responded almost immediately. Busier than I expected.

  Is that good?

  It is. Taking Dad to lunch before more work later. Did you talk to Charlie again about coming in to PH to talk to the kids?

  He’s still thinking about it. I think he will, but I don’t want to push.

  That’s understandable. I think he’d do some good, but it’s up to him. Any plans tonight?

  I frowned. “What the hell?”

  I sent back, I don’t think so? Why?

  No worries! I gotta head out. Don’t worry about the cover at the door. Just say you’re with me. ;)

  “Motherfucking winky face,” I muttered. “And what are you talking about with a cover? And why are you asking me my plans when you’re going to be at the leather bar where there would be a cover… at… the… door. No. No, no, no.”

  He knew.

  He knew.

  “Fuuuuuck meeeee,” I breathed.

  Chapter 9: That Time I Went to a Leather Bar

  I BLINKED when the vehicle I was in came to a stop. I looked around to see we were in a parking lot I’d never seen before. “Where are we?”

  “Oh thank god,” Paul said. “I thought we were going to have to carry you inside.”

  “Carry me inside where?”

  Paul and Vince turned around to look at me in the back seat. “Corey,” Vince said slowly. “Do you remember who you are?”

  Paul rolled his eyes. “Of course he does.” Then, “Right?”

  “No,” I said. “I have no idea.”

  Vince’s eyes widened. “He has amnesia, just like on Amor Descarado.”

  Paul sighed. “I really don’t understand your obsession with telenovelas.”

  “Nana says it’s because I was a conquistador in my past life, and I was in love with the daughter of a powerful mafioso who ended up murdering me.” He scrunched up his face. “But then she said I came back as a ghost, and it got really weird after that.”

  “I don’t know why I asked,” Paul muttered. He looked at me again. “We’re at Build-a-Bear Sweat Shop. Sandy and Darren are already here. Charlie’s waiting for us. We found you in your room saying nope over and over again. I had to brush your teeth for you. Please don’t make me do that ever again.”

  “What am I wearing?” I demanded, looking down. I had on a leather corset, tight black pants, and killer boots with pointed toes.

  “Just be thankful that’s all you have on,” Paul said. “I am trying hard not to point out how the hat I have on looks distinctly from a time period that should not be emulated in any way, shape, or form.”

  “I don’t get it,” Vince said.

  Paul patted his arm. “It’s better that way.”

  “He knows,” I said, eyes widening. “Jeremy knows.”

  Paul and Vince glanced at each other before looking back at me. “How do you figure?” Paul asked.

  My phone was sitting in my lap. I was thankful they’d thought to bring it along while I was catatonic. I found the text thread and thrust it toward them, their faces illuminated as they read in the semidark.

  “Huh,” Paul said. “Well, maybe he meant something else.”

  “Like what!”

  “I have no idea. But even if he didn’t, isn’t this better? It means he won’t be surprised when he sees us.”

  “I thought that was the whole point of going undercover?” Vince asked. “I had this whole backstory already made up. I was going to be a conquistador.”

  “You can still be that if you want,” Paul said.

  “Yeah?” Vince asked, that familiar aggressive look coming back on his face. “You wanna be my beloved where your father is a mafioso who wants nothing more than to keep us apart? I warn you, there’s going to be a lot of random face slapping and mustaches. I might even have an evil twin named Vance.”

  “Yeah?” Paul said, starting to pant. “Is Vance going to try and woo me away from you?”

  “He can try,” Vince growled. “But then I’ll kill him and we’ll make sex face on top of his dead body and—”

  Have you ever seen a person in a corset exit a vehicle in under two seconds?

  No?

  Pity.

  I gulped in the hot night air, wondering if it was possible for me to run all the way home. But since I didn’t really know where we were and running was fucking awful, I decided against it. I glanced back at the car in fear, wondering if I was going to see Paul’s pale bare ass pressed against the window. Thankfully, he and Vince were just eating each other’s faces. You had to take what you could get.

  I looked toward the other end of the parking lot. There was a line already forming along the front of the nondescript building on the corner. Above it was a sign. It didn’t have any words on it. Instead there was a fluffy teddy bear with an eye patch, a harness, and a leather cap tilted on its head. It had a cigar sticking out of its bared teeth. I had never seen a teddy bear leer before. It was quite eye-opening.

  The car doors opened, and Paul gasped as he climbed out, his lips swollen, his face splotchy. “I’m sorry you had to witness that,” he said, sucking in a deep breath. “We can’t control when it happens.”

  I eyed him disdainfully. “Don’t lie to me with your lies.”

  Vince looked smug as he walked (read: slinked) around the front of the car. His little shorts didn’t hide much. He was very happy to be here. “I love being married,” he announced.

  “Good for you,” I mumbled. “Any chance we can get in the car and go back home and pretend this never happened?”

  Paul stopped drooling over Vince’s thighs and looked at me. “Yes.”

  That startled me. “Wait, really?”

  He shrugged. “If that’s what you want. Sandy has Darren here, and I can text Charlie to let him know we’re bailing. All you need to do is say the word. And if we do go inside and you want to leave at any point, let me know. I don’t think we’d stay late anyway. We all have to work tomorrow.”

  I was touched. “Thanks, Paul. I don’t—I don’t know why I’m being stupid.”

  “Look at what I’m wearing,” he said, waving a hand in front of him. “And look at Vince. Trust me when I say we’re all being stupid.”

  “I’m pretty much naked,” Vince agreed.

  Paul walked over to me and put an arm around my shoulders. “I wish I could tell you that it gets easier trying new things when you get older, but I’m in my thirties and this is freaking me the hell out. But I’m doing it because I want to be here for you. So, yes. If you want to leave, we leave. If you want to stay, we stay.”

  I leaned my head on his shoulder. “You’re the best.”

  “He really is,” Vince said adoringly.

  I steeled myself as Paul pulled away. “Okay. I can do this. We can do this. We can go inside, check it out, and if it’s too much, we run away and go home and pretend this never happened.”

  “That sounds like half the things we do,” Paul said. “I approve.”

  “Let’s rock out with our jocks out!” Vince crowed.

  Paul sighed. “He says that more than I like to think about.”

  BUILD-A-BEAR SWEAT Shop was vibrating as we approached, the building shaking with the beat of the music coming from inside. I could almost convince myself we were going inside Jack It.

  Unfortunately, that belief immediately died when the group of men standing in line noticed us.

  They reminded me of that picture of Charlie in front of Jack It with Vaguyna. They looked rough and hard, their leathers polished and shining in the streetlights. Some showed barely any skin at all, wearing leather shirts and jackets and pants and boots. Others wore less than Vince, and I couldn’t believe they could legally stand on the street without getting arrested.

  But aside from the fact that they looked intimidating (and like they actually belonge
d there), I was comforted to see the men in all shapes and sizes. Some were jacked like Vince and Darren. Quite a few were heavier than Paul. There were even guys as skinny as I was, and no one seemed to give a shit. There were a few black guys, even more Latinx, and I even saw an Asian dude wearing a black leather mask that covered his mouth and chin. I hadn’t expected that, but it seemed to come from my own prejudice. I didn’t know why I’d thought leather was a white thing.

  But regardless of the spectrum the men in line covered, they seemed to be able to pick out we were newbies almost immediately.

  “Hi!” Vince said as we walked slowly to the back of the line. “I really like your collar! Whoa, dude, look at you! That’s the biggest nose ring I’ve ever seen! Rock on. Hi! Hello. What’s going on? How are—dude! Do you have a tail? That’s hard-core. Congrats on that. Paul. Paul. Look at the tail!”

  We were only halfway toward the back of the line.

  Everyone turned slowly to watch us as we passed. I tried not to shy away from them, reminding myself I had every right to be here. Just when I thought we were in the clear, an absolute brick wall of a man stepped out of line in front of us. He was older and grizzled but still undeniably powerful. He wore a leather vest with nothing underneath, and his hairy chest was covered in tattoos I could barely make out in the low light. He was chewing on an unlit cigar and had a stern look on his face.

  “What do we have here?” he asked, sounding as if he were gargling with a mouthful of rocks. “And who might you be, pretty?”

  I thought he was talking to Vince. His expression had turned lecherous, which tended to happen with Vince.

  So imagine my surprise when he leaned toward Paul, a glint in his eyes that I didn’t like.

  Paul looked around. “Are you talking to me?”

  The man moved the cigar from one side of his mouth to the other. “Ain’t no one else looking as pretty as you.” He eyed Paul up and down, gaze crawling over the slope of his stomach. “I don’t know if I’ve seen you before. I’d remember.”