Wonderland (14 page)

A
llan was leaning at the bar glaring at me but Brandon smiled so I assumed Allan hadn't made up some story. Yet. I scanned the bar for the guys, and saw them in a chain on the dance floor. The twins had their shirts off, of course, but Aaron's was half undone. Jesse and Colton had him sandwiched between them. I felt my lips tighten, my eyes squint.

Was I actually jealous?
It's just a dance,
I thought.
They're just dancing.
So what if their heads were thrown back in wild abandon, and so what if each bump and grind was a little deeper than it should have been? It was just dancing.

Or was it? As I watched, I felt the green-eyed monster clawing at me. I'd thought those feelings long gone, hadn't thought I could still get crazy over-the-top dramatically jealous like this anymore. But here I was, watching them dance, my ex-lover and two friends, and I wanted to smash and crash and yell out:
HE'S MINE.

I ordered a drink and tipped it back, then ordered another. I tried not to stare at them on the dance floor, but couldn't help it. I tried to think about Steven, but my thoughts kept going back to the trio. I'd been in that scenario just last week. I knew how it ended, and when I pictured the three of them, naked, touching, sweating, I realized I was definitely jealous. I had always though of jealousy as the paranoid raging of a guilty heart, and I had lots to feel guilty about.

Had everything going on reawakened feelings for Aaron? Or was I just drunk and a bit high and horny? If it was just horny, then why had I pushed Allan away? There he was, leaning against the bar, and talking to some guys I didn't know. He was cute, and Brandon was definitely hot, but why did my eyes keep going back to where Jesse and Colton were both nuzzling my ex-boyfriend's neck?

And why was I even at a stupid bar drinking with stupid homos when Steven was missing? I slammed down my empty glass. Brandon saw, and came over. “Need another?”

“No, I'm leaving!”

“Whoa, whoa, what's wrong?” He hopped over the bar, at least not to punch me this time. “What's going on?” He wrapped his arm around my shoulders.

“I shouldn't be here with Steven gone. It's not right.”

“You can't do anything about it, Alex. Let me get you another drink.”

“No, I need to go.”

“You're not leaving, are you?” It was Aaron, sidling up beside us. He put his hand on my shoulder. “Let's have a drink.”

“Aaron, I need to go home.”

“What's going on?” Brandon climbed back over the bar and grabbed us drinks.

“This isn't good. Steven's missing, and I'm out at the bar. Again.”

“What else are you supposed to do? Sit home and freak out?”

“Yes! Exactly.”

“How will that help?”

“How is this helping?”

“How is it hurting?”

“Oh, it's hurting.” I slammed back the drink. “Why don't you go dance again?”

“What? Are you mad I'm dancing? You invited me to come. You always wanted us to go dancing.”

“There is no us, Aaron.”

“I know that.”

“Yeah, I can see that.”

“Are you jealous?”

“No, don't be dumb. Maybe, I don't know.”

“I'd much rather be bumping and grinding with you,” he said, and moved in close.

“Aaron, don't.”

“Is it that bad?”

“Yes. No. It's confusing.”

“Hey guys! Why so serious?” Jesse and Colton jumped up, throwing their arms around us. “No heavy talk. It's boys' night.”

“It's not heavy. It's all good,” I said, knowing how insincere I sounded. “Shots?”

We had another round, then another, and then I didn't care. It was blurry, and the music flowed through me, and we were dancing. Jesse was behind me, lifting up my shirt, and I let him. Next to us, Colton had his lips on Aaron's nipple. Aaron reached out, his fingers finding my belt, and he pulled me toward him, and I pulled Jesse behind me. Jesse's lips were on my ear, Aaron's lips were on my neck. There were six hands on me.

I looked out from the crush of bodies and saw Allan sneering at me. He was sitting on the bar next to the cash register. He whispered something at Brandon and Brandon glared at me from across the bar. Then Aaron pulled my face down to his. I was hard and happy and nothing else mattered.

I was on my back, and Colton was to my right and Jesse was to my left, and Aaron was above me, inside me. There were too many lips on me, too many hands on me. I couldn't focus. He pushed my legs down, pushed in deeper. He nibbled on my chin, the way he'd always done. “I love you,” he whispered, and then began to thrust. I bit down on his shoulder as he pushed his way deeper into me. My fingers clawed into his back, into the star tattoo on his shoulder.

Aaron pulled out and I gasped, wanting him back filling me. I didn't want to feel, just wanted to feel him. But then Colton was in me, and Aaron was in Jesse next to us, and Jesse and I kissed below, and they kissed above, and limbs were tangled, and it was savage and rough and primal, and then Colton flipped me over and pulled my hips up, and he was mounting me from behind. I saw Aaron in Jesse, and Aaron was smiling at me, and Jesse's head was thrown back in absolute ecstasy.

Colton and Aaron had switched again, and they were both picking up pace. Jesse's fists were a blur, one wrapped around his cock, the other around mine, slick with sweat and lube. My eyes were locked with Aaron's and I could see his face scrunch, the way it always did when he was about to cum. As he let out a groan, I shot, and Jesse did too, pushing Colton over the edge. They collapsed down onto us, a sweaty, sticky mass of flesh. Aaron's mouth found mine and I held his face tight against mine. We lay there, panting, and then Colton pulled the quilt over all four of us. He turned off the bedside lamp, and in the darkness, Aaron wrapped his arms around me, and nuzzled at the spot on my neck that he knew so well. I sighed, and fell asleep.

W
hen I woke up in the morning, I was alone in the twins' big bed. I was sore and spent and my head was pounding. I could hear talking in the living room, a bit of laughing. I flinched as I got out of bed, pulling on my jeans. The sun through the window was far too bright.

“Morning, sunshine,” Jesse said. “Coffee?”

“Ugh. Please.” Colton and Jesse were sitting at their kitchen island, both just in their undies. I looked around, but it was just the two of them.

“Looking for Aaron? He had to leave.”

“He said to say good-bye.”

I felt . . . disappointed that he hadn't said good-bye in person. Even through the hangover, I could still feel him inside me. I could feel his absence, mingled in with regret and guilt.

“So much for behaving, hey?” Jesse said, brushing his crotch against my hand as he handed me the coffee.

“Jesse, I have so much going on in my head right now, I can't deal with you being cute.” I ground my hands into my forehead. He started kneading my shoulders, and it did feel good. Steven used to give me the best massages.

I jumped to my feet. “I have to go! This is crazy. I'm going to the police.”

“Whoa! Are you sure that's smart?”

“It has to stop. I'm not playing this twisted little game anymore.”

“If you're sure . . .”

“Do I have any choice? The longer this goes on, the more I am letting my life implode.”

They both hugged me, and even though they were beautiful and in their undies, it was, for a change, entirely nonsexual. I grabbed my clothes from where they were strewn about the bedroom, and kissed the twins good-bye. As I waited for the elevator, I checked my phone.

I had one new message.

I banged my head on the elevator door in frustration. I'd been ready, I'd been sure, and now doubt was mingled in with everything else. What if it would really be done? Should I wait a few more hours before jeopardizing Steven's safety? By the time I'd reached the lobby, I'd decided to hold off going to the police again.

On the walk home, I remembered I wanted to get something for the Walrus, or Walter as I guessed I should start calling him. What did you buy to apologize to the creepy loner porn addict who lived across the hall after breaking into his apartment and accusing him of kidnapping your boyfriend?

I passed by a street vendor selling flowers, and figured why not? He had probably never had a guy buy him flowers before, so it might be a nice gesture. Besides, I was nearly home, and it was on the way. I bought a bouquet of carnations. They were bright and fresh, and his apartment could definitely use the color.

In the lobby, I ran into Mr. Carroll. “Alex! Everything been okay? Any more incidents?”

“No, everything's been good, thanks for asking.” I discreetly patted down my pockets looking for the Walrus's spare key.

“Who are the flowers for? Romantic night with the boyfriend?”

“Actually, they're a peace offering for the Wal . . . for Walter across the hall.” There it was, in my inside pocket.

“Oh, that's nice. I ran into him last night. He mentioned you guys had come to an understanding.”

“Yeah.” How to get it back to him?

“That's good. Well, you take care.”

He turned around, and I definitely noticed what Jesse had noticed about his muscular back and shoulders. “Hey, I think you dropped something.” I bent down and came back up with the key in my hand. “Did you lose a key?”

He took it from me, looked it over. “It's one of my spares, yeah. Weird. Thanks.”

“No problem.” I watched him walk away, then shook my head. No more cruising, I told myself. I took the elevator up.

I knocked on the Walrus's door. Walter's door. “Who's there?”

“Hey. It's Alex. From across the hall.”

“One second.” I could hear shuffling. The image of what he might have been doing flashed into my head.

The door opened, and there he was. I couldn't help but give him a once-over, looking for signs that what I'd pictured happening actually had been, but luckily, I couldn't see anything. No pup tent, no wet spot.

“What do you want?”

“I'm here to apologize again for the other night.”

“Oh?”

“And I brought you these.” I handed him the flowers.

“Thanks,” he said, taking them.

“Look, did you want to come out with us some night?”

“You don't have to do that, Alex. I don't want pity friends.”

“That's not what this is. It would be cool, that's all. We're neighbors, right?”

He looked at me, his expression disbelieving. “Well, I'll think about it.”

“Good! Glad to hear!” I turned to go into my apartment.

“I'm glad you've made up with the graffiti guy.”

“What?” I turned back.

“The guy who spray-painted your door. Glad you guys made up.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, you brought him here last night. I just assumed you guys had worked it out?”

Last night? Who had I brought here last night? I thought. And then it came to me. “What the fuck!”

I
grabbed Walter by the shoulders. “This is very important. Are you telling me that the guy I brought here last night is the guy you saw spray-paint ‘faggot whore' on my door?”

“Yes. You didn't know?”

“No, I didn't know. Christ!” I kicked the wall.

“Whoa, Alex, is everything okay?”

“No, Walter, everything is most certainly not fucking okay. Not fucking okay at all.”

I stormed into my apartment, slamming the door behind me, and a scream started deep inside me. My fingers grabbed my hair and out it came: a howl that started at my feet and slowly rose up through my body until it burst forth from my mouth. “Aaron!”

I grabbed my lamp and smashed it against the wall. Griffin jumped off the couch and ran into the bedroom. How could he? How could I have been so stupid?

“Where is my fucking phone?” I kicked the couch, digging through my pockets. I called Aaron. It went to voice mail. “Aaron! Call me now! Right fucking now!”

Crazy! It was crazy! I couldn't believe he'd done that, and then tried to be all normal and sympathetic. He knew how I felt about that word. Why would he fuck with my head like that? No, there had to be a mistake. The Walrus had to be wrong. How could Aaron have done it? Aaron was with me at the baths, and he didn't know where I lived.

Well, he'd said he didn't anyway. Even if he had though, did he have time afterward to come here and do it? How long was I at the bar? It would have been tight, but it was possible. Maybe.

Unless he'd done it before.

Where did that thought come from? If he'd done it earlier, then it wasn't just a reaction to what happened. It was planned. And if it was planned . . .

Wallet!

The thought came to me out of the blue. I remembered Aaron saying he'd lost his wallet, and suddenly I had the image of finding a wallet at Steven's. It was a horrible realization. What if . . . no . . . he couldn't have . . . he couldn't be the one.

I grabbed my jacket and headed out. There was one way to find out. I tried calling again as I walked. “Aaron, it's Alex. It's vitally important you call me when you get this. I need to ask you something.”

I was vibrating, and it felt like I was going to vomit. How could I even be thinking this was true? There was no way. It was my guilt talking. That was it, had to be it. Could Aaron have done all of it? There was only one way to find out, and I picked up the pace toward Steven's house.

As I walked, I called Jesse. “You won't believe it.”

“What's up, buttercup?”

“The Walrus saw Aaron spray-paint my door.”

“What? Did you talk to Aaron?”

“He's not answering. But wait, it gets worse. I think he's the one.”

“The one what?”

“The one who has Steven!”

“What? Alex, you're kidding me.”

“No! When we went for lunch, he said he'd lost his wallet, and I found a wallet at Steven's. I'm on my way there right now. The guy from the other night, the one you saw leaving my place, could that have been Aaron?”

“I don't know. It was dark. I don't really remember. He was blond, I think.”

“But maybe not?”

“Maybe, maybe not. I really don't remember. Sorry, Alex. But you were with Aaron for six years. You'd know if he was that unstable.”

“Everyone changes.”

“But like that? Are you sure?”

“No, and I hope I'm wrong.”

“Where are you right now? Do you want me to come?”

“No, I'm almost at Steven's. Just stay on the line.”

“Okay. Wow, I can't believe he's that crazy. He was good in bed.”

“Shut up, Jesse.”

I turned onto Steven's block and stopped short. “I'll call you back,” I said, and hung up. The front door was open. I remembered locking it. I knew I'd locked it. I started to run. Maybe Steven was home. Maybe it was over.

“Steven!” I yelled.