On a Roll Page 8

  “Maybe everyone isn’t like you,” Sean said.

  “Well, that’s a pity,” Gabriel said.

  Sean rolled his eyes. “Actually, it’s not.”

  “That’s not what you were saying the other night,” Gabriel said, lowering his voice. “Because I remember that too. I can’t forget about it.”

  “You said you weren’t interested in . . . what was it? Fucking away the memory of my dead husband.”

  Ouch, he had said that. Definitely not his best moment.

  "So, I thought that maybe your cousin might be,” Sean said.

  “He’s not,” Gabriel said, even though he worried that Ren might. Normally, knowing Ren, he’d have been all over it, but considering Gabe’s feelings, he sure hoped that Ren wasn’t interested.

  Or if he was, that he hid it well.

  “You seem pretty sure about that,” Sean said, smiling. “Maybe you didn’t see him flirting with me just now.”

  “Ren flirts with anything with a pulse. I once saw him wink at a labradoodle.”

  “You don’t want me, so I’m not sure why you care,” Sean said casually.

  The problem was, Gabriel could think of a million ways to prove to Sean that he wanted him a whole hell of a lot more than Ren possibly could, but none of those ways were casual.

  “I . . .” Gabriel stuttered. He couldn’t bring himself to say, no, I do, and I’m willing to do it any way you want it. Maybe because the future felt so full of unknowns. If they got in deeper, if Gabriel gave him exactly what he wanted, he’d want to give him everything. And he was not sure Sean was even interested in any of it.

  “That’s what I thought,” Sean said, and turned and walked away.

  Gabriel watched him go, and wished he was not quite so familiar with Sean’s back—or his ass in those cute denim cutoffs. Or that he wasn’t so goddamned hot in them Gabriel wanted to melt through the floor.

  “Wow, you really suck at this.”

  Gabriel turned and groaned. Ren was standing there, leaning against the side of the truck, a knowing grin on his face.

  “I do not,” Gabe grumbled, even though he was willing to accept Ren’s assessment. After all, he’d just let Sean walk away again. How many times could that happen before Sean stopped showing up?

  He wasn’t sure he wanted to find out.

  “Take him up on it, before I do,” Ren said.

  “You wouldn’t,” Gabriel said, as he stomped to the back stairs and climbed into the truck. Surely there was something he could do, could put his hands on, so he wouldn’t go insane with boredom and frustration.

  “I don’t know,” Ren said, following behind him. “I might. The guy’s practically gagging for it.”

  Ren didn’t know because Sean wouldn’t have told him. He couldn’t have any idea that Sean had spent the last four and a half years being celibate. By this point, he probably was gagging for it.

  “I’m just saying,” Ren continued, because the guy never knew when to shut up, even if it was good for him, “if you don’t do it, I will. It’d practically be a public service at this point.”

  “It would be a public fucking service if you quit talking about it,” Gabriel grumbled.

  “Fine, fine,” Ren said. “But at some point, he’s gonna meet someone who isn’t as nice and charitable as I am. And you’re going to lose him.”

  “Let’s prep for tomorrow,” Gabriel said, pulling a bag of onions out of one of their storage bins. “It’s slow, and we can get a head start, and maybe even sleep in.”

  “Message received,” Ren said. “You don’t want to talk about it.”

  He didn’t. He didn’t want to think about it either. Sean with another guy . . . it was just wrong. It felt wrong. But at the same time, calling whatever they had between them just sex felt wrong, too. Like Gabe had already accepted that he could never live up to the man that Sean had loved and lost.

  Maybe he couldn’t. But a Moretti never gave up without a fight.

  Chapter Five

  “I can’t believe we made it six months,” Tony said as he balanced precariously on a ladder and attached another strand of lights to the pole that sat at the north end of the lot.

  Sean had been prepping for the day, roasting chicken off in his tiny oven, and setting up for the lunch crowd, when he’d watched Tony lug out the ladder. He had firsthand experience with how terribly Tony and ladders mixed, so he’d come, ostensibly to chat, but really to make sure that Tony didn’t maim himself.

  “You didn’t think we’d make it here?” Sean asked, surprised. Tony always seemed so confident, so sure in what he was doing—in what they were doing.

  “Nope,” Tony said, beginning to descend the ladder, which shook precariously. Sean reached out and held on. “I kinda thought we might all kill each other first.”

  “You mean, you thought Gabe and I would kill each other,” Sean said.

  Tony shot him a grin as he reached the ground. “Kind of, yeah.” He tucked a piece of dark hair behind one ear. “So . . .”

  “No,” Sean said. He didn’t want to talk about it. Definitely not with Tony. “We’re working on it. That’s all you need to know.”

  “Do you both still have all your vital organs?” Tony asked, pulling out his phone and turning on the new strand of lights with the Bluetooth adapter he’d installed first. The strand shone brightly, even in the Los Angeles morning sunshine.

  Yes, Sean wanted to say, but some of them are feeling mighty unfulfilled right now. But even worse than Tony interfering with the name problem would be Tony interfering with their potential hookup.

  “Yeah,” Sean said. “It’s cool.”

  “Good,” Tony said, drawing him into a quick side hug. “You know I love both you guys. I want you to stick around.”

  “Yeah.” Sean couldn’t imagine going anywhere else. Ever since Milo had died, he’d felt rootless and aimless, but coming to LA and meeting Tony and the other guys had given him a purpose. Given him a home.

  As much as he wanted to throttle Gabriel sometimes, he was part of that feeling, and Sean didn’t want to look too closely at how much of it was about Gabe. Why hadn’t he just accepted Sean’s offer and enjoyed a bout of hot, stringless sex before it could mean anything?

  “You’re coming tonight, right?” Tony asked, referring to the big party they were throwing for the friends and family of everyone in the lot. When Sean nodded, he added with a sudden sly grin, “Bringing anyone?”

  “No,” Sean said. Gabe would be there, of course, and Ren, if he wanted to keep driving Gabriel nuts by flirting with his cousin. Pushing his buttons wasn’t nearly as fun as getting a hand on his dick, but it passed the time.

  “You know, you can bring a guy around, if you wanted to,” Tony said. “Even if it’s not a thing. You know, Lucas and I started out pretty casual.”

  Sean rolled his eyes. “That’s a lie, and you know it. You and Lucas were gaga for each other from practically the first moment. I saw you two together, remember? Making out outside the Funky Cup? That isn’t ‘just hanging out’ and you know it.”

  “Well,” Tony drawled. “He thought it was pretty casual, anyway.”

  Sean laughed. “Yeah, okay.”

  “The point is, you can bring someone, even if it’s not serious. I know Lucas and I are like couple goals, and Tate has Chase now, but it doesn’t have to be some lifelong commitment for you to bring someone to the party.”

  “Yeah,” Sean said. “Well, honestly . . . I think Ren and I might be hooking up, soon.”

  Tony’s jaw dropped open. “What?”

  “Yeah,” Sean said, suddenly wishing that he hadn’t said anything. He had no intention of actually hooking up with Ren—and he was pretty sure Ren knew it too—but he’d imagined that the first thing Tony would do was run to Gabriel and tell him everything.

  “You’re not serious,” Tony said, voice dropping as he took a few steps closer. “You wouldn’t, really?”

  “Why shouldn’t I?” Sean s
aid.

  “Well, I don’t know, maybe because Gabriel is fucking obsessed with you,” Tony said. “And sleeping with Ren, well, that’s a big fuck you, if you really wanted it to be. But . . .” He hesitated. “I’m not really sure you want it to be.”

  Tony was right; he didn’t want it to be. All he’d ever wanted to do was push Gabriel’s buttons, and the Ren thing had worked him up more than he’d been in months.

  Actually, Sean realized, that wasn’t true. The thing that had worked him up the most? Those kisses they’d shared.

  “Well, suffice it to say, I’m not bringing a date,” Sean said. “If that’s okay with you.”

  “Hey,” Tony said, “however you want to run your personal life, fine by me.”

  “Good,” Sean said, and watched as Tony grabbed the ladder, but instead of heading off to hang the next strand of lights, walked straight over to Gabriel’s truck.

  He sighed. He’d done this—he’d known exactly what Tony was going to do. So why did he feel so guilty about it?

  ———

  Eight hours later, Sean was still feeling guilty—and not happy about his sudden attack of conscience, either.

  He hadn’t seen Gabriel all day, and lately, that was unusual. Usually, one of them could manufacture a reason to have to pop over to the other side of the lot. But today? He’d stayed in his own truck, embarrassed and a little ashamed that he’d used Tony like that. Why had he thought that was a good idea? Pushing Gabriel’s buttons had always been a fun way to pass the time. When had he started caring what the fallout was?

  He didn’t know, but he cared now.

  After the trucks closed—an hour early, for the anniversary celebration—Sean spent all his cleanup time vacillating on whether he should actually go to the party.

  Gabriel would be there. And so would Ren.

  Two people who’d know, in detail, how Sean kept throwing himself at guys who didn’t really want him.

  He sighed, leaning against the counter. He thought it’d be so easy; he knew Gabriel wanted him. He’d known that before Tony had said so. He’d known since they’d kissed.

  Nobody could kiss you like that and not want you.

  It had been a long time for Sean, but not that long.

  He stared out the window at the twinkling lights, the big fire pit that Lucas was building one log at a time, Tony and Jackson standing next to him.

  Ash and Tate were lugging in a huge cooler, the one that Tony usually kept his fresh catch in for the most famous fish tacos in the LA area, and laughing—probably at the smell of fish emanating from the plastic.

  He really should go. He was part of this. These guys were his family, now, and it would be stupid to stay away for some silly reason like embarrassment.

  And if he just happened to proposition Ren—maybe for real this time—then he would. Ren was hot. He didn’t feel the same tingly sensation he had every single time he looked at Gabriel—but that wasn’t required, was it? He was horny, goddamn it, and Ren was right there. And looked enough like Gabriel that . . . well, maybe he could settle for that.

  Sean pulled his apron off, and then the navy blue t-shirt he’d worn under it. It was still really warm even though it was almost nine, and he grabbed a white tank, tugging it over his head.

  He should wear something else. He spent so much time inside his food truck, his skin didn’t have that delicious golden sheen that Ren’s did. That Gabriel’s did. Sean had spent so many nights around the fire pit, watching the light catch Gabe’s exposed skin.

  Wanting to put his mouth all over it.

  He hadn’t even understood back then that was what he wanted, he’d only known that he couldn’t ever tear his eyes away.

  But now he knew, and he couldn’t ever pretend otherwise.

  His own skin was pale and milky, and maybe not the best contrast with the white of his tank, but he decided he didn’t give a fuck.

  If Gabriel decided he didn’t like his skin, then Sean wasn’t going to cry about it.

  He pushed his hair back, took a deep breath and exited the back of the truck, locking the door behind him.

  “Hey,” Ash said as he joined the circle around the fire pit. Someone had hooked up some speakers, and upbeat music started playing. “Beer’s in the cooler over there. And I think Jackson brought some shit from the bar, if you want something harder.”

  Sean glanced over at where Gabriel and Ren were standing, beer bottles in hand, way over on the other side of the fire pit. Were they avoiding him? Sean couldn’t say for sure, one way or the other, but he wasn’t going to stand for that shit.

  “I’ll find Jackson, thanks,” Sean said. Hesitated. Ash was the other single guy who was part of the lot, and he couldn’t help but think of what Tony had offered today. “Did Tony go out of his way to tell you that you could bring a date?” he wondered.

  Ash laughed. “Not this time, because I told him next time he asked, I was going to use his balls for earrings.”

  “Really?” Ash was even shorter than Sean—and even blonder, too. He looked like an angel, but took absolutely no shit from anyone, and often Sean wished he could be a little more like Ash.

  Ash nodded. “Last time Tony asked me if I had a date. I date plenty, but they sure fucking don’t need to come around here, not until I’m sure.”

  “And you haven’t been that sure,” Sean said hesitantly.

  “Not yet.” Ash’s voice was cheerful, like it was totally alright that he hadn’t had a serious boyfriend since Sean had known him. And maybe two years wasn’t quite almost five, and maybe Ash didn’t have a dead husband he wasn’t trying to get over, but still.

  Sean wasn’t made of fucking glass. He had needs. And if Gabriel wasn’t going to satisfy them, then he was going to find someone who would.

  “But,” Ash continued, “I’m always optimistic. You know that military guy, the one who keeps showing up?”

  “Lennox? Yeah, he’s cute,” Sean said. More accurately he’d thought Lennox was cute, but not nearly as cute as Gabriel.

  “He is,” Ash said. Dropped his voice. “Tony’s gonna freak out, but I invited him here, tonight.”

  “You did?”

  Ash shot him a sympathetic look, and Sean wondered just how many of their friends had been wondering and waiting if he and Gabriel would hook up. “Sometimes,” he said, “you’ve got to take matters into your own hands. You want something? You fucking make it happen.”

  “Yeah,” Sean said. “Yeah.”

  Ash patted him on the back. “Go get ’em, tiger,” he said.

  First thing, Sean went and found Jackson, who’d set up a makeshift bar on a picnic table. Alexis, his boyfriend, and the guy who made the best fucking hummus Sean had ever been lucky enough to eat, had his hand tucked into the back pocket of Jackson’s shorts, and they were laughing about something.

  “Hey,” Sean said. “I heard a rumor you had something harder than beer over here.”

  Jackson turned and smiled. “Looking for a little Dutch courage?”

  Sean rolled his eyes. “Why would I want that?” Apparently everyone knew what was going on. That, he reminded himself, was because you had to open your big fucking mouth and tell Tony. Nobody gossiped like Tony did.

  “Something a little birdy told me,” Jackson said, pouring him a shot of vodka in a little plastic cup. “Here you go, champ, just don’t go overboard.”

  Sean threw back the shot in one burning gulp. He didn’t love vodka, but Jackson was annoyingly right; if he was going to be as audacious as he wanted to be, he was going to need it.

  Jackson poured him a second shot when he held his cup out. “That’s all you get,” Jackson said. “You’re a fucking lightweight, and I don’t want your drunk ass on my conscience.”

  “This is fine,” Sean said, sipping this shot instead of taking it all at once. “I’ll be fine.”

  Jackson raised an eyebrow. “Guess we’ll see about that.”

  “Guess we will,” Sean said, and took
off to get his guy.

  ———

  Sean decided there was no reason to be subtle. That ship had sailed, long ago.

  “So,” he said, as he walked up to where Gabriel and Ren were standing. “Which one of you is going to fuck me?”

  Gabriel choked on his beer, and Ren just smiled, like the cat who’d just won the cream.

  “Um,” Gabriel said, trying to clear his throat. “Uh. Are you okay? Are you drunk?”

  “I’m not drunk,” Sean said, trying to be casual, even though his fingers were clamped tightly around the plastic cup he was holding. He wanted, more than he’d ever imagined, more than he’d anticipated, Gabriel to be the one to stand up and say, me, it has to be me. It was only ever going to be me.

  “We’re not doing this,” Gabriel said in a hard voice. Not the tender, intimate one he’d spoken in when Sean had confessed to him all about Milo. Maybe he never should have told Gabriel the truth. Maybe he’d created shoes that were too big to fill. Too much pressure. Too much tension. Too much something.

  “Then,” Sean said, turning to Ren. “How about you? You wanna get out of here?” He hoped that none of his disappointment—the hurt—showed on his face.

  Ren sighed. “Sweetheart,” he said, “you really don’t want me. You want him.” He pointed to Gabriel. “And I’m not stupid enough to get in the way. Besides, sex is only really fun if the feeling’s mutual.”

  “But . . .”

  “No,” Ren said gently. “No.”

  Sean downed the rest of his vodka. He couldn’t look at Gabriel. It ached too much, the rejection seeping deep inside him. Flirting with Ren—or with someone else—wasn’t going to help now. Even finishing the vodka, burning low in his belly, didn’t make it feel any better.

  The fire danced in front of his eyelids, and he felt so fucking stupid.

  Of course Ren didn’t really want him. And Gabriel? Sean swallowed hard. He couldn’t think about him at all.

  “My cousin isn’t stupid.”

  Sean’s gaze flicked to Gabriel, who was still standing there, uncertainly. Ren was gone, Sean didn’t even know where. Probably to find someone who actually wanted to have sex with him. Out of the corner of his eye, Sean saw him across the lot, talking to Ash and that new guy, the tense one, the one that Ash had invited. Lennox? Yeah, that was his name.