Bad Attitude (20 page)

Gavin supposed if there was one thing in life he was successful at, it was party attendance.

He’d manage. “Around seven,” he agreed.

“Gavin.” Jamie’s voice was full of expectation, but again, Gavin had no idea how to deliver what he was looking for.

“Yes?”

“Good night.” Jamie’s voice was a little rough, like maybe he’d decided to indulge in getting off anyway, or maybe he was already falling asleep.

“Good night.”

Now Jamie strode back out of the convenience store clutching an envelope, a four pack of beer under his other arm. Gavin hadn’t expected it was an emergency run for lube or condoms, but he couldn’t imagine what was in the envelope.

Jamie put the beer behind his seat then sat down. “You had to make me get the kid something. Let’s hope he doesn’t get the wrong idea.”

“Which idea would that be?”

“Never mind. At least we won’t be too early.”

Gavin ignored the car’s navigation system sending him through the city. It was too misty to put the top down, but since Jamie had liked flying down the bay on the
Carpe Diem
, he might enjoy zooming up I-93.

The acceleration was seamless, the traffic light enough that after a few trips around lane hogs, he was able to find a clear stretch to edge the car up to ninety. A quick dart around a too-slow sedan, and they were back to flying.

“Do you really have a death wish, Montgomery?”

At the sharp rebuke, Gavin’s muscles contracted, hands tightening on the wheel. He tapped the accelerator lightly before letting it drift down to seventy. When he was certain his voice wouldn’t betray any disappointment, he drawled, “Thought we were running a little late.”

“It’s fine. You know, you can still get a ticket, even I can get a ticket.”

Gavin shrugged, momentary exhilaration fading, everything dimming to factory-installed condition. Jamie didn’t say anything else until he pointed to the house with three cars already in the driveway. Gavin pulled up to the curb.

Jamie smiled at him for a second, as if he was glad Gavin was there, then made an exaggerated eye roll. “Let’s get this over with.”

Gavin retrieved his gift and clicked the locks. Now that he knew Jamie dressed as well as undressed, he could see the need for the jacket Jamie always wore. It covered his shoulder holster. Though Gavin knew it was required by regulation, he thought it was overkill. Even naked Jamie had a battle-ready swagger that warned people to stay back. Yet somehow, until Jamie had snapped at him for speeding, Gavin had found himself inside that protection, as if he’d passed the required tests. Now he was back outside, firmly distanced by an armor of leather and arrogance.

The door opened as Jamie reached for the bell, and an oversized dirty blond came out and made a beeline for the Bentley.

“Oh. My. God. A Continental GT convertible.” His hand stopped short of the hood. He looked back toward Gavin and Jamie. Gavin nodded, and the blond placed one reverent finger on the finish. “It’s beautiful.”

Gavin wondered if the younger man would start crying. It seemed touch-and-go for an instant, then he recovered and came back toward them.

“Kellan Brooks.” He held out a hand.

“Gavin—”

“Montgomery, right?” Kellan cut him off.

Gavin nodded just as his name was screeched from the door. Actually, it was more of a slightly high-pitched
Gavin Fucking Montgomery
, which was rather how he thought Jamie used it out of earshot, but his voice was never that high.

The owner of the voice was Jamie’s height, though the a slight build and soft, smooth features coupled with overlong Goth-black bangs hanging in his face made Gavin wonder if the boy shouldn’t be home getting ready for high school tomorrow.

“You are in so much fucking shit, Mister.” The boy pointed at Jamie. “Do you know what I could have won with—?”

A taller man closer to Gavin’s age, thank God, showed up at the door. “Move it inside,” he growled, then his gaze landed on Gavin and his eyes widened in surprise. “Damn.” He punched Jamie on the shoulder before turning to the boy. “You. Big trouble.”

The boy laughed in a sexy way that had Gavin hopefully reassessing the high school age.

Then the boy lunged forward and grabbed Jamie’s leather jacket, tugging him over the threshold. “I need to borrow him for a minute.” His tone lacked even a feigned apology. “I’ll return him relatively unharmed.”

Gavin didn’t realize he’d begun to step back off the stoop until he bumped into the solid form of Kellan Brooks behind him.

“Yeah. They must have been out the day they were handing out social skills. Not that Eli lets a little thing like appropriate boundaries get in the way of something he wants.” Kellan put a light but friendly hand on Gavin’s shoulder. “C’mon in.”

To the left of the entry, the couch of a living room set was occupied by three men, though like the boy at the door, two of them seemed a little young for that appellation. Gavin had always gravitated to older friends. In this collection, he felt absolutely ancient. Escorting Lily, Gavin moved in different circles, political, financial, diplomatic. On his own, he might find himself among the good old families from Virginia and the Carolinas with Beach or warding off the ennui of the East Coast elite with Soren. He knew how parties worked. The give-and-take, the maneuvering. Always with some agenda. These people didn’t seem to have anything in common. He remembered the scene at the door. For all the screeching and overt displays, it was clear that what they had in common was a sense of familiarity and family. The underlying agenda, affection and good humor.

Gavin was in unfamiliar waters, but he’d do his best not to let Jamie down.

“Gavin, this is Nate.”

The man with a small, neat goatee and glasses rose and shook Gavin’s hand before putting an arm around Kellan to make their relationship clear.

“Done lusting over the old days?” Nate muttered.

“A Bentley, baby? Even I didn’t dream that big.” Squeezing his boyfriend close, Kellan resumed the introductions. The dark, curly-haired young man on the couch with a sneakered foot braced against the coffee table was Marco. The tall, slender, platinum blond with an angelic face and old eyes was Silver. “The birthday boy,” Kellan finished.

Silver put a toy noisemaker between his lips and blew. “Still think we should drink every time someone says that fucking word.”

“Happy birthday.” Gavin handed over his gift.

“Seriously?” Silver took it with the level of caution he might use if someone had handed him an incendiary device.

Maybe a brief military career accounted for the unreasonable look of experience in that young face. “You didn’t blow,” Marco pointed out.

Silver made a desultory bleat and ran a finger over the thick ribbon on the box. He met Gavin’s eyes, and there was—something behind that light blue-gray stare. The kind of look that wouldn’t have been out of place on Soren or Lee or any of the people Gavin thought of as trapped in something they wished they knew a way out of. That helpless expression Gavin could relate to. Like the impulse he had to pick up Annabelle or volunteer at the hospice, Gavin wanted to find a way to fix it. No one that young should look like that.

Gavin took a spot on the loveseat near Silver. “So how many is it?”

Silver looked up from where he’d been playing with the ribbon. “Huh?”

“Years. How many are we celebrating?”

“We’ve been trying to get that info out of him all night,” Nate said. perching on the arm of the chair where Kellan was sitting. It seemed as if he was trying to guard Kellan from Gavin for some reason. As if Gavin might spirit his lover away with the temptation of his luxury car.

“
All night
being you got here fifteen minutes ago,” Silver said. “Older than last year.”

“What is it?” Marco jabbed at the box.

“Feels expensive,” Silver said, glancing at Gavin’s shoes, his jeans.

Again, Gavin felt that unaccustomed shame. He’d never been ashamed of money before. He knew he didn’t work for it, but it also wasn’t his fault he’d been born into it. “It’s just something I thought you could use.”

“From Tiffany’s?” Nate’s voice held the sort of condescension that made Gavin want to forget his own social skills and tell him to shut the fuck up.

“They have men’s gifts,” Kellan pointed out.

“Tiffany who?” Marco asked.

Silver moved the white ribbon and looked at the name stamped on the box. Then he shoved off the ribbon. Gavin had put two fifties into the silver money clip, remembering a grandparent’s superstitious claim that it was bad luck to give a purse or a wallet without money in it.

Silver looked down and blinked a couple of times, but when he glanced at Gavin, his eyes were dry and as bleak as before. “Thanks. ’Preciate it.” The box disappeared inside Silver’s hooded sweatshirt. “Hey, Eli! Are we ever going to eat? You said we couldn’t start drinking until we ate.” Silver rolled his eyes.

“I have to agree,” Nate said. “He has gone a little
hausfrau
lately.”

“I heard that.” The boy from the door moved into the living room. “I don’t know what it means, but I know an insult when I hear one.”

“Our host, Eli,” Kellan said.

“If it means he’s turning into some kind of Stepford Wife, then I tried to tell him that.” Jamie dodged the elbow Eli aimed at his midsection.

“I’ll have you know, I had these kinds of amazing skills before love dragged me off to the hinterlands of Mount Washington. And suburbia can still kiss my very queer ass.”

“Mmmm.” The man who had ushered them in wrapped his arms around Eli from behind. By a process of deduction, Gavin was going with Quinn for a name.

Belatedly, Gavin recalled his manners and the bottle at his feet and stood, offering the bottle to Eli with a genuine smile and thanks for having been invited.

“Shouldn’t you be slipping this to the redhead then?” Eli leered, a crooked tooth making him appear somewhere between appealing and predatory. Gavin wouldn’t underestimate Eli’s charm or survival skills.

After Gavin reclaimed his seat, Jamie settled in next to him, a lot closer than the furniture required, then leaned across Gavin to hand the envelope to Silver. “Happy birthday, kid.” In Gavin’s ear he muttered, “Suppose you already handed off your pretty blue box.”

Silver looked bemused, though he sounded his noisemaker and opened the envelope and took out a bunch of scratch-off lottery tickets.

“Who knows?” Jamie said, voice still vibrating close to Gavin’s jaw, making the hair on his neck stand up. “Maybe one of the tickets will be worth more than whatever came from Tiffany.” Despite the competitive comment, there was only humor in Jamie’s voice. His time in the kitchen with his friends had taken the edge off whatever mood had overtaken him in the car.

Jamie was more relaxed than Gavin could remember having seen—notwithstanding postcoital behavior. No surprise, surrounded by people who reacted to his angry bristles with amused affection.

“Awww. You got him a present? That was sweet.” Eli patted Jamie’s head and retreated in time to avoid being swatted away.

“Couldn’t let Montgomery here show me up.” Jamie nudged Gavin’s thigh with a knee.

“Really? What did Gavin give you?” Eli asked Silver.

“Money clip,” Silver mumbled.

“A
silver
money clip. Behold the irony,” Kellan added.

“Actually, baby, that’s a coincidence,” Nate pointed out in a patronizing way.

Kellan put a hand on his boyfriend’s arm and leaned forward. “Hey, Gavin, did you know his name was Silver?”

“I wasn’t aware of it, no,” Gavin said.

“Sound like you’re being deposed,” Jamie murmured in Gavin’s ear. “Need your lawyer?”

“So the gift was unintentionally accurate.” Kellan drew out every syllable of
unintentionally
. “Irony. I win, Mr. Editor.”

“Score,” Eli crowed. “Shouldn’t have done that. He’s going to pout now, Kellan.”

But Kellan apparently had anticipated that and yanked his boyfriend into his lap before Nate could stalk off.

Gavin glanced to his right. While Marco had a smile on his face as he watched Kellan wrestle Nate for his wounded dignity, Silver had a stillness to him, a frozen watchfulness Gavin knew only too well. The pale blue eyes caught Gavin watching. A hint of a smirk appeared before Silver shut it down. Then he blinked slowly and the pink point of his tongue slipped between his lips.

Gavin wanted to tell the kid to hit on someone his own age, but he’d spent too much of his own adolescence chasing older men to be a hypocrite. He shook his head a fraction in disapproval.

But that was enough to alert Jamie. He draped his arm around Gavin’s shoulders, but there was more amusement than jealousy in his voice as he said, “Trust me. You do not want to go there.”

Before Gavin could respond to that, Silver said, “I was promised food and liquor if I hauled my ass up here. Where is it?”

“Fine,” Eli said. “We were waiting on a teacher friend of Quinn’s. What was his name? Seth? Seb?”

“Good, maybe he could give Nate here a refresher course on irony,” Kellan called, then gasped in pain. “Shit, baby, I like that where it is.”

“Zeb,” Quinn clarified. “Hang on, he’s calling.” Phone to his ear, he walked out of the room.

“Zeb? What the fuck kind of name is that?” Marco asked.

“Biblical.” As Silver spoke, Gavin swore the temperature in the room dropped twenty degrees. “Zebadiah. Means God has given. ’Scuse us.” He hauled Marco to his feet, and they disappeared around a corner.

Across the room, Kellan was murmuring apologies. Jamie’s arm was no longer touching Gavin’s back, draped instead across the back of the loveseat. Gavin turned to see a wide smile on those full lips. A smile of contentment, ease, all the things Jamie found with his friends that felt a million miles away from anything Gavin could offer him. If Jamie had that with his friends, what did he want from Gavin? Irritation? Someone to blame for having money? The only thing Gavin knew they had was sex. The one thing he could offer that kept Jamie coming around.

Gavin put a hand on Jamie’s thigh, fingers skating up his inseam.