Accidentally in Love (11 page)
Read Accidentally in Love Online
Authors: Jane Davitt,Alexa Snow
Tags: #Romance, #M/M Contemporary, #Contemporary, #Gay, #Source: Amazon
“Bastard.” Tom was blushing a little bit, just a hint of pink in his cheeks, as Jake knelt at his feet.
“Now, Jake, be gentle with him,” Cal said, unable to resist the opportunity to tease Tom more. “Tom here is a pedicure virgin.”
“For real?” Jake wasn’t Cal’s type—he was small and blond and didn’t look a day over eighteen, even though Cal knew he was in his mid-twenties—but he was cute as hell and had a tendency to flirt shamelessly. “Oh, honey, don’t be shy. You think you’re the first virgin I’ve ever done? I’ve deflowered plenty of men.” He was so slender that he couldn’t have intimidated a fly, and even Tom managed to rally and flirt back, cautiously, as Jake went to work with the lotion.
Hyo’s
hands were stronger than they looked, and Cal felt his eyelids closing as his feet were massaged too firmly for it to tickle. He loved the feeling of being pampered. There was definitely a sensual element to this, though the experience was too impersonal to be truly arousing. He liked
Hyo
; he just didn’t know him beyond the casual conversation they’d exchanged over the months that Cal had been coming to the small spa. Cal needed more than that these days.
From beside him, he heard Tom moan. Cal grinned.
“That feels incredible,” Tom said.
“You have good skin tone,” Jake said, “but, sweetie, these cuticles are killing me. Now hold still…”
Hyo
chuckled as Tom yelped. “Your friend isn’t sure if he likes this or not, hmm?”
Cal opened his eyes. “It’s his birthday, and I started his day with a mimosa, light on the juice. He likes it, trust me.”
“Oh, it’s your birthday?” Jake patted Tom’s foot. “You should have said something sooner and I might not have been so mean about your cuticles.”
“It’s okay,” Tom said. “I’m getting the full Calvin Reece treatment today. If Cal can take it, so can I.”
“You’re a better man than I,” Jake quipped.
Cal let himself drift in a haze that had more than a bit to do with the fact that he hadn’t been sleeping all that well. Part of it was probably because the closest he’d come to having sex had been jerking off, and he was used to getting off with a partner at least a couple times a week. For years, he’d been dimly surprised at his yearly physical to learn that he still hadn’t contracted any STDs. Not that he wasn’t careful, because he was always careful, but it just seemed like the odds had to be against him.
The other reason was because his brain just wouldn’t slow down these days. He spent hours lying in bed counting sheep, but his thoughts kept returning to what he was doing with his life. Not that he didn’t enjoy his job. He loved taking photos, even when he wasn’t the creative director, and he didn't mind traveling. He got a kick out of visiting new countries and meeting new people. Somehow, the fact that he’d never had anyone to share it with him made him feel empty now. He was changing. It wasn’t a pain-free process.
“There you go,”
Hyo
said, interrupting Cal’s daydream and setting his foot down on the neatly folded towel. “I think your friend here ended up liking it even more than you did.” Indeed, Tom was half asleep in the next chair.
“Tom, if you don’t wake up, they’ll paint your nails lime green,” Cal said.
“What?” Tom’s head jerked up. “Hey, no. No painting!”
Jake chuckled. “Ignore your friend. Though if you wanted to try it…” He pursed his lips. “No,” he decided. “It’s just not you.”
Cal couldn’t argue with that. They moved over to small tables for the manicure, too far apart to chat, though Tom and Jake seemed to be getting along well from what Cal could see when he glanced over at them. With no nail polish to apply, the manicure didn’t take long, and Cal was soon looking in approval at neatly trimmed nails and smooth cuticles.
He took care of the bill for both of them, leaving a generous tip, and ushered Tom out.
“So what’s next?” Tom asked, his eyes sparkling. Cal had never seen Tom this relaxed.
“I was thinking a haircut, if that doesn’t sound too taxing.” Cal paused on the sidewalk, hesitated, and then reached out to run his fingers through the hair at Tom’s temple. It was harder than he’d thought it might be to stop after that one gentle touch. There was something so intimate about playing with someone’s hair, though a hairdresser might not agree. “What do you say?”
Tom swallowed. “Okay.”
He was surprised by the way Cal had touched him. Cal could see that, but he didn’t think it had been unwelcome. Still… “Sorry,” he said. “I mean, was that okay? Not, um…too personal?”
“No,” Tom said. “Not too personal.”
If Tom had been anyone else, Cal would have kissed him. He wanted to, more than he’d wanted anything in a long time, actually, but he and Tom were worlds apart. Tom didn’t want a player, someone who could have been in a hundred relationships but had rarely been with anyone more than a handful of nights. Tom wanted someone serious, someone who deserved him.
Cal most decidedly did not. So he plastered a smile on his face and tugged briefly at Tom’s sleeve instead of taking Tom’s hand, and said, “Come on. Let’s see if we can’t get this mop of yours tamed into something a little less wild. You wouldn’t want to give the wrong impression.”
“And what impression would that be?”
“That you turn into a bear every full moon? Or maybe an Old English sheepdog. You know, the cute ones with all the shaggy bangs hanging down.”
“Did you just call me cute?” Tom demanded, coming to a dead halt and scowling at Cal. “Take it back or I’ll bite you somewhere painful and you’ll spend the next few weeks looking up how to make silver bullets.”
Cal’s smile turned genuine as he choked with laughter. “God, you’re totally nuts, you know that? I love it.”
If there was a slight hesitation before his last word, he didn’t think that Tom noticed.
He managed to make it through Tom’s haircut without any inappropriate touching and followed that up with a trip to a very nice menswear store where he’d bought some of his favorite clothes. “I was going to just buy you some stuff and wrap it up, but I thought it made more sense to make it into a field trip kind of thing.”
“On safari with Cal Reece,” Tom intoned. “The famous photographer is now stalking the wily shaggy-haired sheepdog in its native habitat.”
“That’s some sheepdog, if it lives in here.” Cal gave some beautiful and therefore very expensive shirts thoughtful consideration. “What do you think of this? I think maybe in gray, or this light blue.”
Tom took the shirt and held it up. “Large? I usually get
extra large
at least.”
“That’s because you’re wearing stuff that doesn’t fit you,” Cal said. “Trust me, you’ll look a lot better in the proper size.”
“Jesus.” Tom sounded horrified. For a few seconds, Cal thought they were going to argue about the sizing issue, an argument that he was determined to win. Tom was looking at the price tag, though. “A hundred dollars for a
shirt
? Cal, that’s obscene.”
“It’s a really nice shirt,” Cal countered. “And it will stay looking good for years if you take care of it. It’s worth the price, trust me.”
“I feel sick just thinking about it.” Despite that, Tom let himself be propelled to the fitting room. A minute later, he came out wearing the shirt and an impressed expression. “Okay, you might be right. It does look really good.”
“
You
look really good.” Cal stepped up behind him so they were both seeing Tom in the full-length mirror. It was all he could do not to put his hands on the man. With a shirt that was the right size and of good quality, Tom was the equal of any man they’d see tonight at Riverside, and Cal knew he’d have a hard time keeping other guys away.
Tom’s gaze shifted, and Cal realized that Tom was staring at him in the mirror.
“We…we both look…” Tom’s voice trailed away, a thoughtful frown creasing his forehead.
“What?” Cal asked, his hands shoved deep into the pockets of his pants to keep from reaching out. He wanted to slide his hands up Tom’s arms, lock his hands behind Tom’s neck, and pull him down for a kiss that would wipe away the memory of any that Joe had given.
Tom shook his head. “Nothing. Let’s look at jeans to go with the shirt. I’ll let you pick them out. I’ll be your own personal Ken doll if that’s what you want, but I’m paying for them. You’ve given me more than enough.”
I could give you more. So much more. God, I wish I hadn’t blown it from the start…
“Sure, let’s look at jeans,” he said instead. He didn’t want to argue about who was going to pay for them. He didn’t want to argue with Tom at all. What he wanted to do with Tom was take the clothes off him rather than be putting them on.
Too bad that wouldn’t be possible.
“This place is crowded.” Tom leaned toward Cal as they pushed their way into Riverside, the almost exclusively gay club that Tom had heard about for years but somehow managed to avoid until now. Which seemed like it had been a good idea as the second person in sixty seconds stepped on Tom’s toes.
“
What
? ” Cal said.
“
Crowded
!” Tom repeated loudly, and Cal nodded.
It was fine, Tom told himself. It wasn’t like he and Cal couldn’t talk at home. This was his birthday, and Cal wanted him to have a good time. Obviously a good time wasn’t going to include much in the way of conversation.
They pushed their way to the bar, somehow managed to order a couple of beers through a complicated sign language that included Cal indicating a woman’s waist and hips in midair, and then sidled their way toward the dance floor.
“Do you want to dance?” Cal spoke directly into Tom’s ear, which meant that Tom heard him, though it was on the painful side.
Tom held up his beer. “Let’s drink these first,” he said, mouthing the words to get his message over.
Cal nodded and took a sip of his beer, only to be jostled by someone keen to get to the dance floor. The guy looked back and gave Cal an apologetic wave of his hand. Cal was still left brushing the front of his shirt, spattered with the beer that had foamed up from the neck of the bottle.
“You know what, let’s try outside,” Cal said. He tucked his arm under Tom’s elbow, tugging him gently.
Tom wasn’t sure what was outside, but he trusted Cal not to lead him out into a squalid alleyway. When they emerged onto a patio set out with tables, with the river flowing nearby, his trust was rewarded.
“I didn’t know it had all this space behind it.” The music was still present but muted, so talking was simple, not a throat-searing effort. “Do you want to grab a table down by the river?”
“Sure.”
They moved down toward the railing that overlooked the river, passing a couple of women who were kissing avidly. Tom waited until they were farther away before saying, “I thought it would be all guys.”
“It’s mostly guys.” Cal pulled a chair out, stepped around the table, and sat. Tom blinked as he realized Cal had just pulled a chair out for him, like this was a date. It wasn’t a date. It really, definitely wasn’t a date.
Was it?
“It’s pretty,” he offered, because he felt like he had to say something.
“Moon’s almost full,” Cal said. He gestured at it. It wasn’t a clear enough night that the constellations were visible, but as Tom watched a cloud ghost across the surface of the moon, Cal added, “You aren’t going to turn into that sheepdog, are you?”
Tom laughed and drank from his beer. This didn’t seem real, and part of him felt like he was dreaming. “I hope not.”
“Yeah, me too,” Cal said. “I’m not fluent in woofing, and I’d have to resist the urge to tickle you behind the ears and rub your belly.”
Cal’s hands on him, stroking, exploring… The idea of it, even when Cal was obviously just joking, sent a flash of heat through Tom, as if he’d just swallowed a mouthful of brandy, not beer.
“Did you ever have a pet?” Tom asked, turning the conversation to stanch a blush rising to his face. “I didn’t,” he said before Cal could reply, glumly aware that he was babbling nervously. “My mom was allergic to cats and dogs, and I used to think I’d always get a cat when I found a place of my own, but I never did.”
“Not when I was little,” Cal said. “After my mom died, my brother and I used to ‘find’ cats and dogs and bring them home, and my dad never did more than roll his eyes. Since we’d basically kidnapped them from the neighborhood, they always ended up getting out and going back where they belonged again.”
“Temporary pets.”
“You could get one now, though. I wouldn’t mind.” Cal sounded serious enough.
“I guess. I don’t know why I haven’t done it.” Maybe it had seemed a little too desperate, a little too gay-guy-turns-crazy-cat-lady. Not that he would have gotten more than one cat; he liked dogs but considered himself a cat person, so it definitely would have been a cat. Now, though… He wasn’t completely sure, but he thought things were different. “Maybe I should.”
“There are always people giving away kittens,” Cal said. “One time we took a whole box of them. I forget how many—four or five, I think. We let them play in the backyard, and they all wandered off.”
“They did?” Tom grimaced, imagining a much younger Cal’s reaction. “I’m sorry. Did you ever find out what happened to them?”
“Two of them, no, but the others turned up at other people’s houses. I guess we just weren’t meant to have pets back then.”
“Maybe I’ll get you one for your birthday,” Tom said, half-serious. “When is it?”
“You just missed it,” Cal said. “It was a few weeks before I moved in. Never mind; I can wait until the next one.”
Cal’s casual assumption that he’d still be around in a year was reassuring, even if Tom couldn’t quite let himself believe it. Cal’s whole life seemed to be built around words like
temporary
,
one-off
, and
casual.
They finished their beer, and Tom stood. “Let me go and get us a refill.”
“No need.” Cal raised his hand, getting the attention of a passing waiter balancing a tray of glasses and bottles. “Hey, Ian. How’s it going? Could we get two more beers over here? Anything cold will do.”
“You got it,” the man called back.
“You know everyone,” Tom commented. “If I tried that, I’d be sitting here waving my hand for hours with no one noticing.”
“I don’t think so,” Cal said. “Trust me, you’d get noticed.” He sounded totally serious, and he was looking at Tom like there was no one else nearby. It was a little bit disconcerting, and Tom was grateful when Ian came back with the requested beers.
“Thanks,” Tom said as Cal paid.
Cal set his wallet down on the table and told Ian, “It’s his birthday.”
“We need to get a crown,” Ian said, which didn’t make a lot of sense at first. “You know, for birthday boys. That way everyone would get the attention they deserve on their special day.”
“As long as you don’t get one of those songs,” Cal said. “Those things suck.”
That, Tom thought, was almost a swear. Cal didn’t swear often. Maybe the beer loosened him up. To be fair, those birthday songs
did
suck.
“So how old are you?” Ian asked.
Cal swatted playfully at his leg. “Stop flirting with my roommate. Go away until we need more beer.”
Ian did what might have qualified as a curtsy. “Yes, sir!” he said and left.
“He wasn’t really flirting,” Tom said.
Cal raised his eyebrows and didn’t comment.
“He wasn’t!” Tom insisted. Shit, he was blushing again. “I know you’ve got me looking…different tonight, but I’m not the eye candy you are.”
“I’m hot, yeah,” Cal said with a breathtaking frankness. “I don’t often get turned down, and I’m a cocky son of a bitch at times because of that. But I don’t know that anyone would want me around for more than a night or two. You, though…you’re a keeper. Joe, yeah, I know he’s a sore point, but you’re the one who kicked him to the curb, not the other way around.”
“And he’s the first guy who’s shown any interest in me, ever,” Tom pointed out, wondering how they’d gotten into a reverse pissing contest over which of them sucked more.
“No, he’s not.” His words were spoken so quietly that Tom came close to missing them.
“Huh? Who—”
“You know what? I want to dance with the birthday boy.” Cal got to his feet. He raised his beer to his lips and swallowed it down in a series of long, slow gulps. “Come on. It’s too crowded for anyone to stare, and if they do, it’ll be for all the right reasons, trust me.”
Tom let Cal lead him back into the club and onto the dance floor. The music wasn’t too insanely loud, or maybe Tom had just gotten used to it; either way, it seemed right. It had a deep, throbbing beat to it, and Tom found himself moving to it even though he was still convinced he was a terrible dancer. Cal started out leaving some space between them, but the floor was crowded, and within a minute the people around them had managed to nudge them closer together. It wasn’t possible to dance without touching anyone, and Tom felt more comfortable bumping into Cal occasionally than bumping into complete strangers.
He was supposed to be finding someone new to date, he guessed. He should be checking out the men around him, cataloging the features he found most attractive and considering which men would be at the top of his list. It was his birthday, though, damn it, and he didn’t
want
to do any of those things.
What Tom wanted to do was exactly what he was doing right then: dancing with Cal, even if he was aware of his shortcomings as he shuffled awkwardly to one side and then the other. He wasn’t stupid—he could imitate what other people were doing—and he wasn’t uncoordinated, but he was convinced that, deep down, there was some tiny way in which he was different from other people.
It wasn’t a difference that Cal seemed to be noticing, though. That made Tom feel better.
“You aren’t having fun.” Cal leaned in so that Tom could hear him. Cal smelled good.
Tom shrugged helplessly. He wasn’t
not
having fun; it just wasn’t fun for the right reasons. He had a feeling they were supposed to be all about the physical release of moving to the beat and expressing himself, and that just wasn’t happening. Not that it was easy to strut his funky anything when he couldn’t actually lift his arms without groping or punching someone. The fun for him involved the moments when he collided with Cal and got to push back off him with an apologetic smile, or when he had Cal’s hands reach out to steady him.
Cal put his mouth so close to Tom’s ear for his next words that despite the heat of the room—his new shirt was clinging to him—Tom shivered. It wasn’t quite a kiss, but with every other syllable Cal’s lips brushed his ear, and that was enough to make Tom stand very still.
“I need a drink.”
Right then Tom needed a few moments alone to get his reaction to Cal crowding in close under control. But he nodded, staring ahead of him, because if he turned his head and Cal didn’t pull back, they
would
be kissing. For as long as it took for Cal to jerk back, his eyes stunned, at least.
Cal was being really nice to him today, but Tom didn’t fool himself that the mixture of pity and gratitude behind the kindness went that far. A haircut, perfect cuticles, and new clothes didn’t change him into a man Cal would look twice at as anything but a friend.
Besides, look how much the man had to drink just to get through an evening with him. A glance at the bar revealed that Cal was downing two shots in quick succession before heading back to Tom, a bottle in each hand, hips shifting to the beat of the music.
The guy was beautiful; there was no doubt about that.
Beautiful
wasn’t a word that Tom would normally have attributed to another man—it was more a girl thing, in his mind, at least—but in this case it fit. Part of him thought he should be running as far away from Calvin Reece as possible, because the only way out of this path they were walking would be with Tom getting his heart broken, spending every day with a man he could never have.
The other part of him, the hopelessly smitten one, just wanted to soak up as much of Cal as he could.
“Thanks,” he mouthed more than said as Cal handed him a bottle of beer. He’d rather press the cool bottle to his throat than drink from it. The club was hot as hell, and the smell of perspiration and cologne was creating a weird cloud of confusion that made Tom’s head spin. Thank goodness he wasn’t drunk or it would have been unbearable.
Cal finished his own bottle of beer, head tipped back, throat working as he swallowed. Tom wanted to lean in and lick Cal’s neck. The thought of it brought a rush of blood to his cock, leaving him dizzy. This was terrible. “I think we should go!” he said, closing his eyes so he wouldn’t have to see Cal as he leaned in to be heard.
“What?”
“Go!” Tom jerked his thumb toward the entrance. “Can we?”
“Oh!” Cal stopped dancing, now-empty beer bottle still in his hand. “Yeah, of course! If you want to.”
“It’s been great,” Tom said when they got outside into air that by comparison seemed refreshingly cool, even if that impression soon wore off. His clothes were sticking to him, his hair damp against his neck and forehead. He had to look a mess, which meant that life as he knew it was back to normal. “I’m just not used to this much fun.”
“I wanted you to have a good time,” Cal said. “Least I could do.”
Tom really didn’t want to be reminded that Cal was still repaying a debt that, as far as Tom was concerned, didn’t exist. What he’d done for Cal, he’d have done for anyone, after all. Walking by a man getting beaten up, averting his eyes in case he was the next victim, might have been prudent, but it wasn’t a course of action he could have lived with afterward.