Bad Boyfriend (18 page)

“Damn,” Eli said as Quinn parked in the strip mall. “I should have brought my laundry.” He nodded at the laundromat next door.

“Now who’s going for unsexy?” Quinn grabbed his bowling bag from behind the seat.

“Laundry can be very sexy. The vibrating machines, cotton hot and fresh from the dryer, all that time to kill. Seriously?” Eli looked at his bag. “You have your own ball?”

“And shoes. How unsexy did I just get?”

“I may have to reset my plans for later. I don’t know if I can do that with a man who has his own bowling ball. Is it pink at least?”

“Gray.”

Eli shook his head, a mournful expression tugging his lips down at the corners. Quinn had been looking forward to seeing Eli again, but somehow had forgotten the effect Eli had on the rest of the world. Once inside, Eli slung his jacket over his shoulder, revealing a vintage-looking bowling shirt in eye-watering magenta complete with black piping and his name stitched over the left breast pocket. He wiggled his ass over to get shoes while Quinn paid for a lane. By the time Eli was bending over to lace up his rented shoes, all the guys in the league two lanes over were staring their way.

Jamie came over and smacked Quinn’s shoulder before stepping around him to offer a hand to Eli.

“I’m Jamie. So, are you what Quinn’s been doing with himself the past couple of weeks?”

“He wishes.” Eli shot Quinn a narrow-eyed glance. “Don’t you go anywhere alone?”

“I used to bowl in their league two years ago,” Quinn explained.

“He gave it up when Thursday was the only night what’s-his-name was home.” Jamie tipped his beer to his lips.

Before Quinn could unzip his bag, four other guys had joined them. Terry, who was in his late forties, was offering to show Eli how to keep score, despite the fact that the computerized lanes did it automatically. Quinn squeezed Terry’s shoulder as he bent over Eli.

“I’m showing him how to enter the names,” Terry said with a wolf-like grin.

“Thank you.” Eli gave Terry that sexy blink Quinn wanted to keep to himself.

A spark of anger tightened Quinn’s fists. “Aren’t some of you in the middle of a game?”

“Not me,” Terry said.

“Can I get you a beer, Eli?” Jamie offered.

“Ginger ale,” Eli said, eyes wide, the angelic look suggesting he wasn’t old enough for beer.

“Enough, assholes.” Quinn hauled Terry up from the scorer’s chair he was sharing with Eli and shoved him in the direction of the other lanes. “Clear out.” Quinn turned to Eli. “What was that about?” he demanded.

“They’re
your
friends.” Eli shot to his feet to face him. “I thought this was supposed to be a date. Which, despite my limited experience, doesn’t involve ten people.”

“I knew they’d be here, but I thought…” Quinn was no longer certain why he’d thought being here with them was a good idea.

Eli tipped his chin up, a smile starting to curve his lips. “Were you showing me off?”

Quinn hadn’t really thought he’d need backup. Maybe he had been. Maybe he’d wanted to see what color Eli could add to another part of Quinn’s old life. “And if I was?”

“Your chances of getting blown later just improved dramatically.” Eli tapped his arm and waved down the lane. “So give me some pointers.”

Quinn wished he’d taken Eli fly-fishing somewhere in the middle of nowhere so when he stood behind him to guide his motions, it wouldn’t matter how hard it left him. After a few seconds of attempting to position him, he suggested Eli try to find his own style.

He bowled a strike. And another one. And then picked up a spare.

Quinn loved the look of delight on Eli’s face as the last pin wobbled over and Eli looked up at his score.

“I’m winning.” Eli should always look like that, as if someone had just handed him a million-dollar check.

He managed two pins in his next four tries. When Jamie showed up with a can of ginger ale, Eli waved him off. “I’m trying to figure this out.”

“It’s my turn,” Quinn said.

“But I need the practice. We won’t count this game.”

Jamie stood next to him as Quinn watched Eli hook another ball into the gutter.

“So what’s with this kid?”

“He’s twenty-three.” Quinn anticipated by a few weeks.

“I wasn’t going to arrest you, man, I’m only asking.”

Eli’s next ball swerved from gutter to gutter like it was dragged by unseen magnets before hitting the pins almost sideways and leaving a five-ten split. Eli pumped a fist in triumph.

“I want him,” Quinn said, simply. Because sometimes, it was as easy as that.

“So does Terry. Hell, everyone here would probably fuck him. Billy’s drooling enough to change his shirt, and he’s a total bottom.”

“Not if I have anything to say about it.”

Jamie shook his head. “I don’t want to see you get fucked over again. Even if he wasn’t twenty-three, that kind of thing isn’t realistic. Ball your brains out but leave the whole mess of love and marriage to the hets.”

Love. He hadn’t said anything about love. Hadn’t said anything about love to Peter, though Quinn had assumed that’s what it was. It hadn’t felt anything like this. Peter hadn’t always been easy, but things had been comfortable. Eli was about as comfortable as a rollercoaster with no brakes.

Eli picked up the split and spun around. The elation on his face made Quinn want to kiss the fuck out of him. Lust, love. Quinn just wanted him.

“You deserve a good time, babe.” Jamie slapped him on the back. “But keep your upstairs head in the game.”

Eli stopped for a drink of ginger ale and made a face, though whether the face was for the drink or Jamie, Quinn wasn’t sure. “What’s that about?”

Quinn arched his brows. “He thinks you’re going to break my heart.”

He expected Eli to laugh or find a way to twist it into something sexual.

“Even if I could, I wouldn’t.”

Chapter Twelve

Before Quinn had time to ask Eli what he meant, he’d turned to flash that perfect ass as he picked up his ball.

“I can’t believe I’ve missed this sport. It’s all about fingering holes and caressing balls. So how about a bet?”

Quinn was sure that with anything Eli proposed losing would be just as much fun as winning. “Stakes?”

“If I win, you do what I want for the rest of the night.”

“And if I win?”

“What do you want?” Eli purred it at him.

“You do what I want until oh six hundred. Six a.m.”

“I got that, soldier boy.”

Quinn couldn’t swat his ass here. He did it anyway. “Sailor.”

Eli’s grin said he hadn’t forgotten.

Quinn had never tried harder to lose a game in his life. It wasn’t easy. Eli would bowl a strike and then three straight gutter balls. Maybe they were both trying to lose.

Eli managed two strikes and a spare in the last frames, then turned in triumph. “Okay. Feed me.”

“They’ve got good tacos—”

Eli made a face and then shook his head. “No Mexican. My favorite burger place is downtown.”

They had driven past Loyola when Eli announced, “Ground beef and mushrooms.”

Quinn shot him a confused look before fixing his eyes back onto the road.

“Pizza toppings,” Eli said, as if that explained everything.

It took a second before Quinn realized Eli was continuing the conversation from a week ago. “Not a deal breaker.”

“What is?” Eli asked.

At the moment Quinn couldn’t think of anything that would make him want Eli out of his life, but there was something he’d prefer not to have slap him in the face again. “Lying.”

“Makes sense.”

The streets narrowed, the increase of cars and pedestrians pulling more of Quinn’s attention to driving. When Eli didn’t offer anything else, Quinn asked, “What’s yours?”

“Got a pen? It’s a long list.”

“I find that hard to believe.”

“That I’m picky?”

“That you cut people out of your life easily.” Quinn looked over as they waited for a light, but Eli was staring out of the window. “If you had to pick one.”

Eli looked back at him, held Quinn’s gaze. “Being ignored.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.” Quinn spotted a parking spot, though they were more than two blocks away from the address Eli had given him. “Do you mind walking?”

“I’m used to it.”

“Right.” Quinn could see why a car wouldn’t make a lot of sense in the heart of the city. “Do you have your license?”

“No. But I can change a flat tire, jump a battery and change the oil.” Eli had no trouble keeping up with Quinn’s long strides either.

“Remind me to call you next time my car makes a funny sound. Why’d you bother to learn that if you don’t drive?”

“I took auto shop in high school. I hated the art teacher.”

“Did he ignore you?”

“
She
,” Eli corrected, “liked to humiliate people. I got in her face about it and got banned from art class.”

“Did she humiliate you?”

“I wouldn’t give her the chance. She picked on weaker kids. Teachers.” Eli rolled his eyes, but before Quinn could defend his profession, Eli added a wink. “So how do you make your students follow orders? Stand there all intimidating and flinty eyed?”

“I’m not flinty eyed.”

“Not all the time, but you do that narrow-eyed thing when you give me that look that says
or else
. Makes me want to drop to my knees and suck you off on the spot. Guess that wouldn’t work in school.”

Quinn shuddered in revulsion. “I’m not sure I can eat now.”

He changed his mind when the smells from the restaurant hit his nose. Perfect burgers on a grill—in the middle of October—fresh bread, salty grease from fries. After the platinum-blond host exchanged an overlong kiss with Eli, he showed them to a booth.

“Come here often?” Quinn opened his menu. The hair on the nape of his neck prickled. Eli had taken the seat facing the door, leaving Quinn wishing he really had eyes in the back of his head.

“Not often enough. I know the prices are steep, but the food’s worth it.”

Quinn glanced down. The burgers hovered around ten to twelve dollars, but that wasn’t what he’d wanted to say. “I meant—”

“Oh? Silver?” Eli glanced over at the host. “We both like to dance.” He grinned. “Are you the jealous type?”

Any chance of a comeback vanished as Eli leaned across the booth. Unlike what he’d given Silver, Eli’s kiss for Quinn was deliberate, thorough. No one paid them any attention.

“Just so you know.” Eli sank back into his seat. “I am.” He tapped his menu. “I’m getting number four. Mushrooms and jack cheese. They put butter on the buns too.” Eli’s eyes closed in an imitation of ecstasy.

Quinn told his dick to calm down. It had to eventually. He wasn’t going to spring wood every time he caught a glimpse of the one crooked tooth when Eli smiled or opened that smart, pretty mouth.

Eli’s gaze went to the door. “Fuck me.” Eli breathed it like a curse rather than the invitation Quinn was trying to get his dick to stop thinking about long enough to get them fed.

Eli held up his menu as a shield. “Unlike your friends at the bowling alley, this was not part of my plan. Ignore them and they’ll go away.”

Quinn looked up as the two men stopped at their table. Nate, the dark-haired obnoxious one with glasses, and the more affable one with the wide smile whose name Quinn kept forgetting.

“Going to introduce us?” Nate said with a sneer.

Eli had been nice to Quinn’s friends. Quinn could do the same. “Hi. We’ve met. Quinn.”

“Mind if we join you.” Nate didn’t make it a question.

“Yes,” Eli said, but Quinn got up from his side of the booth and slid in next to Eli.

“Remember that whole being-ignored thing I hate?” Eli muttered in his ear.

Quinn rubbed a hand along Eli’s thigh and whispered back, “Does it feel like I’m ignoring you?”

“It’s not fair to take advantage of a guy who’s easily led by his dick.” Eli shoved up into Quinn’s hand.

“Well, it was nice seeing you…” the taller one tugged at Nate’s arm, “…but I think we’re going to—never mind.” The blond broke off with a sigh when Nate slammed down into the booth.

“Fuck me, they’re still here.” Eli kept his lips close to Quinn’s throat.

“Later,” Quinn promised, backing it up with his hand on Eli’s inseam.

Eli moved away. “I think I should have gotten the outside of the booth.”

“Just because it’s not a life-or-death situation now, doesn’t mean it won’t be.” Quinn turned toward him. “Think of how much better I’d be at blocking any threats from the zombie apocalypse while you get weapons together.”

A snort burst from Eli’s lips, and Nate’s new boyfriend echoed the laugh with a chuckle.

“It’s a good thing I’ve got your carcass to protect me then.” Nate pulled his boyfriend down into the booth, then yanked the menu from under Eli’s folded arms.