Guys on Top (9 page)

Just like him and Stewart. Of course Stewart had opted for honesty with Doug, but only after he discovered they were neighbors.

“I really like him,” Jairo said. “I’ve never met anyone like him. He’s really smart. I mean
really
smart. We hung out and talked for a long time before we even kissed. He knows about all sorts of shit, and he has all these talents and hobbies, a real renaissance man, you know?”

“Oh yeah?”

Jairo nodded. “I think we really made a connection. I’m sure he’ll call.” He chuckled and looked sheepishly at Doug. “Look at me, all sappy and love struck. Don’t tell your brother I’m such a romantic.”

Doug smiled. “My lips are sealed.”

Jairo stood and shook out his jacket, brushing grass off the sleeves. “I’ll let you get on with your run. Sorry to vent on you.” He chuckled.

“It’s fine,” Doug said. “You had some great sex, you’re entitled to be happy today.”

“Yeah,” he said, then his face turned thoughtful. “This is gonna sound soppy,” he said, “but I think I could really fall for this guy. I mean, who knows what’s gonna happen, but no harm in being hopeful, right?”

Doug stood. He frowned, putting his hands on his hips and looking down at the ground.

“What?” Jairo asked. “What’s the matter?”

Doug looked at him. “Okay, I can’t take this anymore, I’ve got to tell you.”

“Tell me...what?” Jairo asked carefully.

“Jairo, Corey has a boyfriend.”

He laughed. “No he doesn’t. How would you know that?”

“Because he crashed on my couch last night because he couldn’t go upstairs. It’s Stewart. They’re not just roommates.”

Jairo stared at him, eyes narrowed. “Stewart? I met Stewart last night. Corey introduced him as his roommate.”

“Yes, well be that as it may, they’re boyfriends. Live-in boyfriends. They have an open relationship.”

Jairo sat down on the bench, then squinted up at Doug. “Seriously?”

“On my life. I just thought you should know.”

Jairo chuckled. “Well, yeah. Information that would have been more useful last night. What the fuck? Seriously?”

Doug nodded. “I’m sorry.”

He shook his head. “That lying son of a bitch. That is so uncool.”

“Well, you did pick him up in a bar. Buyer beware and all that.”

“No.” Jairo shook his head. “No, don’t make excuses for him, this is fucked up! He could have told me. He should have told me!”

“I’m sorry. If it’s any consolation, I’m as bummed out as you are. I really like Stewart.”

Jairo nodded glumly. “Right. Stewart. Celtics tee shirt guy. He’s...Corey’s boyfriend. Man, quite the operation they’ve got going, huh? They’re like...team slut. They’re like cock hustlers. They’re like...well, shit. There goes my good mood.”

“Just take it for what it was,” Doug said. “You still got laid, right?”

Jairo stood. “Yeah. Like I’ve never been laid before. I guess I should be happy. But I’m not.”

“Hey,” Doug said. “I’ll get your number from Wyatt. We’ll grab a drink or something this week, okay? We can toss a few back and bitch about it. You in?”

“Yeah, sure, I’m in. All right. Thanks, Doug. I’m glad you told me. I’ll talk to you this week, then.”

“Okay, take it easy, Jairo.”

Doug pushed himself hard on his run, lapping around the pond several times, his pace hard and fast. When he finished and made the trek back up his street toward home, he felt good. He decided to take his own advice, and be happy about what happened last night with Stewart, to take it for what it was—a night of fantastic sex with a really hot guy. No sense ruining it by pondering what could have been, and what would never be.

Once he got home, he headed to the spare room and lifted some weights, then attacked the punching bag for a while, working up another sweat. After showering, he ate a huge breakfast, then went back to his room and sat down at his desk. He wanted to check his work email, so he’d be prepared for what was waiting for him when he went back on Monday.

When he opened the laptop, he saw Corey’s beefcake photo, still on the screen from last night. He shook his head, chuckling softly. “Fuck off, Corey,” he whispered, and closed out the image.

He checked his email, then his phone. There was a message from his brother, Wyatt, inviting him to come by tomorrow for a ‘guys’ day’ to watch movies, as Beth was taking the baby to her parents’ house for an overnight. While Doug suspected it was another attempt at coddling by his big brother, he accepted, figuring it wouldn’t be a bad thing to spend his final Sunday off out of the house and away from the silent presence of Stewart and Corey.

As the morning wore into afternoon, he decided he should probably meditate. The vigorous exercise had left him feeling calm and refreshed, but he figured a bout of meditation couldn’t hurt either. He felt a sense of pride as he set up his candles and incense in the alcove room. He’d done it. He’d survived Harry and his pretty-boy fuck buddy, survived the lawsuit, and now he was out the other side. And while his encounter with Stewart hadn’t been all perfect love hearts and rainbows, he’d proven he could meet someone he liked, that he could be intimate with someone again. That he could move on.

He was spreading out his meditation cushion when he heard a knock.

He checked the candles to make sure they weren’t set near anything flammable, then went to answer the door. His stomach fluttered a little at the thought that it might be Stewart. The knock came again, and it was directly on his apartment door, not the outside door to the street, so it couldn’t really be anyone else.

Forcing his body to calm, he opened the door. And saw Corey.

“Hey, are you Doug?”

Corey’s ash blond hair was sleep rumpled, the entire image far less polished than he’d been last night at the bar. His voice was deeper than Doug expected, and didn’t match the annoying cackle he’d heard so often, or the throaty sexual cooing that drifted through his radiator. And Doug realized now he’d been wrong about Corey’s good looks being generic. Up close, he had a unique, striking handsomeness. He wore green hospital pants with sandals, a white tee shirt showing off his tan, toned biceps popping out beneath the sleeves. One arm rested on the door frame, a cell phone in his other hand.

While Doug knew he was looking at the same face in the beefcake poster he’d just seen on his computer, a few years had given it character. But it was the eyes that drew Doug’s focus, a pale mix of green and gray, sharp with intelligence. And while he didn’t know this man, he saw something in those eyes he didn’t like—a swimming anger in their depths.

“Yeah, I’m Doug,” he said, offering his hand. “Corey, right?”

Corey didn’t accept Doug’s outstretched hand. “Can I come in for a minute?”

Doug lowered his arm. “Um, sure.” He stepped back, opening the door. Corey stalked through it. Doug closed the door and scowled as he watched Corey move through the living room into his kitchen.

“Ah, what are you doing?” He followed, and saw Corey open one of his kitchen cabinets, then shut it.

Corey brushed past him without meeting his eyes, and walked back into the living room. He went to a closet, opened it, then slammed the door. He moved over to the sofa and crouched down, peeking underneath it.

Doug stepped cautiously over, frowning. “What are you looking for, Corey?”

Corey stood and finally met Doug’s eyes. “I’m looking for someone who knows how to mind his own fucking business. You seen anyone like that around here?”

Doug scowled up at him. Corey was a couple of inches taller than he was, and looked down at him with open contempt, his pale eyes lidded.

“What are you talking about?”

Corey held up his cell phone. “You know who just called me, Doug? Jairo. You know Jairo, don’t you?”

Doug’s shoulders sagged and he nodded his understanding. “Oh. Okay. Yeah.”

Corey nodded. “Yeah. Jairo. You know. Big smile? Sweet, chipper, walkin’ on sunshine Jairo? Well, guess what, Doug? Jairo’s not walkin’ on sunshine anymore. Now he’s mean, angry, name-calling Jairo. He’s pissed off, swearing, shouting at me Jairo.”

“Look,” Doug said, “here’s the thing—”

“I’m a nice guy, Doug. Everybody likes me. I’m not used to people yelling in my ear. But it’s funny. Yesterday I get a call from the landlord, Anna. She’s bitching at me because I’m disturbing Doug. I say who the fuck is Doug? She says the guy downstairs. Then today, I get a call from Jairo. He’s bitching at me because of something
Doug
said. So I say who the fuck is Doug? He says the guy that lives downstairs.”

“Look, Corey, just let me...can I talk for a second?”

“So
then
I’m having breakfast with my boyfriend, Stewart.”

Doug went still.

“Nothing ever affects Stewart’s good mood. He’s my laidback, corn-fed country boy. But suddenly he’s acting all anxious and twitchy and weird. So I ask what’s up. And he tells me he spent the night with
Doug
. Can you guess what I said?”

Doug sighed. “I’m guessing...who the fuck is Doug?”

“Well, look at that, he’s catching on. You might be smarter than you look. Tell me something, neighbor. Why is it that everyone you come in contact with ends up arguing with
me
? I mean look at me. This isn’t me. I’m peaceful. I’m a healer. I heal. You on the other hand, you
infect
. You infect everyone with your...” He waved a hand in front of his face. “Your bad energy. I can feel it coming off you in waves.”

Doug frowned. This guy seemed a little off the rails. He took a step back, away from him. “Look, Corey, I’m sorry about the landlord, and I’m sorry about Jairo. We just started talking, and—”

“And you decided it was your fucking business to throw me under the bus,” Corey said. “Tell me Doug, did I wrong you in another life or something? Have we met before and I don’t recall? Is that what this is about? Did I hump you and dump you? I don’t think so. I would have remembered you. Because you’re pretty hot, I can see now.” He paused, looking Doug over. “It’s a bit distracting actually. But back to why I’m here. About Stewart.”

Doug felt the first fingers of annoyance traveling up his spine, making his temples throb. He was losing patience with this smug shit. He counted to ten in his mind, breathing slowly through his nose. “What about Stewart?”

“I just want to make sure we’re on the same page,” Corey said. “Whatever happened between you two...whatever. I’m cool with it. I’m sure you like him. What’s not to like? But you live downstairs, and this isn’t a sitcom. I don’t want you popping upstairs the minute I leave the house, trying to get in my boyfriend’s pants. We’re not Laverne and Shirley, we don’t need some Squiggy character invading our space and thinking he’s got some right to get in our business. Though you probably don’t even know who Laverne and Shirley are. You look awful butch. You’re all football and beer nuts, aren’t ya?”

“Okay, listen—”

 “No you listen. I don’t know you, but I don’t like you. I don’t know what you’re thinking about Stewart. But just so we’re clear, it’s not gonna happen again. Capisce?”

Doug took a deliberate step closer to Corey, invading his space. “Are you finished? Can I talk now?”

Corey narrowed his eyes. “If you must.” 

“The landlord called you because your loud parties were keeping me up at night, and I can’t sleep. So try to keep it down. I told Jairo you had a boyfriend because he was going on and on about your magic hands and your golden cock and how sparkly butterflies come out your ass when you take a dump. I thought it was the right thing to do, letting him know the guy he had love hearts in his eyes for was unavailable. It was a judgment call and I stand by it. And I get TV Land, so I know who Laverne and Shirley are. But I’m not Squiggy. If anything I’m Carmine. Lastly, if you want to talk to me in the future, you can show me some respect. If not, then keep your pretty face out of mine, and stay the fuck out of my way.
Capisce
?”

Corey remained silent for a long moment, then frowned. “Are you burning frankincense?”

Doug shook his head. “What?”

“I smell frankincense.” Corey turned and moved off, heading down Doug’s hallway.

Doug stared after him. “What is
with
this guy,” he muttered. 

“Oh my God!” Corey shouted.

Doug moved down the hall and found Corey standing in the alcove room, looking down at his meditation set up. He turned and gaped at Doug. “You meditate here?”

Doug shrugged. “Yeah.”

“I use this for a meditation room in my apartment. Directly above here. This explains
so
much.”

Doug stared at him. “What the hell are you talking about?”

Without warning, Corey reached out and placed a hand on Doug’s shoulder. Abruptly, he pulled it back, shaking his fingers out. “Yikes. You need to sort that shit out. You’re all blocked up inside. I can help you with that anger, if you want to book a massage.”

“Yeah. No thanks.”

“Fine, then will you move your meditation to another room? The spare room maybe? I’d do it but I’ve got all my massage stuff in there, it won’t fit anywhere else.”

Doug shook his head. “No. I’m not moving anything.”

Corey’s jaw tightened. “Great. That’s great. Just go ahead and send your
bad
energy wafting up through the floor into my space. Look at me, Doug. Do you see how agitated I am? I can’t be like this. My job requires me to be a peaceful vessel. Now you show up and you’re affecting
everything
.”

Doug just stared at him, scowling.

Corey shuddered visibly, rubbing his arms. “I have to get out of here, go for a walk. I need to air myself out.”

And then he left, storming back down the hallway and out the door, slamming it behind him. Doug drifted into the living room and stared at the closed door. He turned away, running fingers through his hair. “Son of a
bitch
.”

His head was still spinning from Corey’s visit when another knock came on his door. He pulled it open. “What?” he snapped.

Stewart stood there in jeans and a red tee shirt, his eyes wide with surprise. He held a small cardboard box under one arm.
Damn
. He was even sexier than Doug remembered. “Oh, it’s you. Sorry. Come in.”