By Chance (Courtland Chronicles) Page 10

  The Greek deli had just opened, so he dashed inside for some coffee, then continued on down the street. His argument with Nick roiled in his mind, making him cringe. The old Eric had returned in full force last night, cold and unfeeling, ready to inflict hurt in order to deflect it from himself. Part of him wanted to find Nick and beg his forgiveness, for all the good it would do. After the way he’d behaved, Nick would probably tell him to go to hell. Still, he considered seeking Nick out anyway, if only to plunge the knife in and get it over with.

  Instead, here he lingered, trapped in a perfect purgatory of his own device. Dante would no doubt be proud.

  Between classes, studying and visiting his mother, he managed to hold the temptation at bay for another week. On Wednesday evening he arrived to find her sitting up in bed, sporting a huge smile.

  “Good news,” she announced. “My doctor’s discharging me tomorrow.”

  “That’s wonderful.” They’d kept her much longer than usual already, with the past week spent in the psych ward while she underwent various tests, drug and alcohol detox and intensive therapy with a new psychiatrist. While it was a good sign that she’d made such progress, he couldn’t dismiss his concerns. “It’ll be in the morning, I assume? I’ll have to skip my first class, but—”

  “I’m touched that you want to be here, darling, but there’s no need. I’ve sweet-talked Estellita into coming down for a while to help me settle in at the hotel. Please don’t miss any more school on my account.”

  “That’s fine, but I want to talk to your doctor one last time before you leave. There’s your future therapy to discuss, medication, all kinds of—”

  “Is that what you’re worried about? That they’ve given me more pills?”

  It was on the tip of his tongue to deny it, but he smothered the urge. There was no point coddling her any longer. If she intended to get well, she’d have to face some hard facts.

  “You’d be worried too, Mom. I don’t want to see you back here again in another few months.”

  “The only medication I’m taking now is for heart murmur, and I’ve already scheduled an appointment with my new therapist on Monday. So relax, darling. This time it’s going to take, because this time I want to be all right.”

  A warning bell went off in his head. “Heart murmur? Where did that come from?”

  “It’s nothing. The cardiologist said it wasn’t that uncommon. My father had the same thing, and he lived with it for over twenty years. I don’t even remember it bothering him that much.”

  “Until he died of a heart attack.”

  She threw him an exasperated look. “Be that as it may, I’ve decided not to go back up to the house this summer. I’d rather not interrupt my therapy. In fact, I’ve made an offer on an apartment. Hotel living’s grown rather wearisome, and besides, you’ll need a room of your own once school lets out.”

  A pang of disappointment sailed through him. He’d been looking forward to spending the summer in Geneva, with Nick only a few miles away. Well, at least now he could spare himself that torment.

  He hailed a taxi back to campus and trudged wearily to the dining hall. He was about to pick up a tray when he saw Nick and Ally standing at the front of the line. Luckily, they hadn’t seen him yet, so he pivoted on his heel and headed outside.

  He’d intended to go back to his room, but something wouldn’t let him. Instead, he sat down at one of the outdoor tables, yanked up the hood of his jacket and peered into the hall. Sure enough, there were Nick and Ally sitting at their usual table, chatting away as if nothing out of the ordinary had happened over the past week.

  His breath stopped in his lungs when Nick burst out laughing at something Ally said, then reached over to pluck an invisible speck off her cheek. When had Nick ever done that before?

  Common sense screamed at him to get up and leave, but he stayed where he was until he saw them exit the hall and start strolling arm in arm toward Butler library. When Ally stood up on her tiptoes, obviously about to kiss Nick right on the lips, Eric finally fled, racing back to his room on legs so wobbly he nearly fell flat on his face climbing the stairs.

  * * *

  Eric made himself some soup, then tried to study, but it was impossible. The silence was driving him crazy. At last he gave up, slamming his book shut with a grunt of disgust.

  He flopped onto the bed and let his eyes drift shut, one hand moving lazily toward his crotch. Didn’t take long before he had a decent hard-on, but the thought of solitary self-abuse struck him as especially pathetic.

  Suddenly he recalled a nightclub he, Nick and Ally had strolled past on their explorations down in Chelsea. From the long lines snaking around the block, the place was obviously quite popular. He’d never explored the gay club scene before—or any club scene, for that matter—but what the hell. Had to be better than lying here brooding over the former so-called love of his life, who’d evidently taken ten whole days to mourn the demise of their relationship before moving on.

  He didn’t remember the name of the place, but luckily, the cab driver knew where it was, and soon Eric found himself walking up Eighth Avenue toward Midnight Sun. The bouncer pocketed his discreetly proffered bribe, giving his fake ID a cursory glance before waving him in ahead of the line.

  The place was fairly crowded for a weeknight, with bodies pressed in like sardines on the dance floor and stacked three-deep around the bar. Music pulsed, pounded and swirled through the sound system, loud enough to make Eric’s hair hurt. The lights were dialed down low, except for multicolored strobes bright enough to bring on an epileptic fit. Good thing he hadn’t come here for the atmosphere.

  Anxiety gripped him as he pushed his way through the crush of bodies around the bar, but fortunately, the bartenders were lightning fast, not to mention hot.

  Eric slipped a generous tip to the tall dark-haired guy in skintight jeans who’d poured his double scotch, and to his surprise, received a genuine “Thanks, dude” in return. When he circulated back to Eric’s end of the bar a few minutes later, he leaned across and asked, “Not to sound cliché, but have we met someplace before?”

  Eric chuckled, less jittery now that he’d downed half his drink. “If that’s your way of asking if this is my first time here, the answer’s yes.”

  “Ah, a virgin. I like that in a guy.” The bartender licked his lips, and the crotch of Eric’s jeans grew tighter. “If you’re interested, I get off work in about half an hour.”

  At first, Eric thought the guy was inviting him for a drink or a dance, but the gleam in his eyes promptly disabused him of that notion. “Are you the official welcome wagon, or did I just win the trifecta?”

  “Working up front here, you get first crack at all the hot new guys. It’s one of my favorite fringe benefits of the job.” He grinned. “Along with tips and free booze. Anyway, how about it?”

  So it was more that he was fresh meat, rather than anything special. As long as he got his itch scratched, Eric didn’t particularly care. “If I’m still sitting here when you get off, consider it a date.”

  “I’m counting on it.” With a wink, he wandered off to mix more drinks.

  The place grew much noisier and more crowded while Eric sat there, the dance floor so densely packed that if somebody fainted, they’d be held upright by all the gyrating bodies. Breathe, damn it, breathe—or get the hell out. There’s no law saying you have to stay.

  He inhaled deeply, trying to quell his rising nervousness with his last mouthful of Johnnie Walker. Sure, he could leave, but then what? Run back to his lonely, too-quiet room? No. He’d made it this far. And what was he so afraid of, anyway? Nobody was going to assault him in the middle of a crowded nightclub.

  “Hey.” The bartender appeared, on the other side of the bar this time, minus his apron and towel. He’d changed out of the club T-shirt he’d been wearing into a black tank top that looked painted on, his nipples poking through the fabric like steel rivets. His hands skimmed Eric’s hips, drawing him in close
r, rubbing their crotches together. It was apparently the same routine as in any men’s room pickup—see what you want, and reach for it. “Wanna take a walk to the back?”

  Stupid question. What else was he here for? “Sure.”

  The music was so loud at the rear of the club it made Eric’s teeth rattle, a slow, dull throb blooming over his right eye. The back room itself wasn’t much different from any public toilet he’d been in, except for the lack of stalls. Writhing, naked bodies shone sickly blue under harsh fluorescents, the air punctuated with moans, yelps and the unmistakable stale sweat-sock stink of poppers.

  There was evidently no etiquette here, other than finding an empty patch of wall. The bartender cocked his head toward a likely spot, and Eric followed.

  “What’re you into?” he asked, leaning in for a kiss. Eric turned his head in time to avoid it, thankful the guy hadn’t insisted on exchanging names. “Guess that’s my answer.”

  “No kissing,” Eric said. “Fucking and sucking, that’s another story.”

  “Top or bottom?”

  Eric’s breath hitched, his mind spinning back to where he’d been two weeks ago, and with whom. “Bottom.”

  The bartender dug in his pocket for condoms and lube. “Looks like you’re not that hot on the preliminaries, so why don’t we get right to it?”

  Eric turned, fingers trembling as he undid his pants, then braced himself against the wall with both hands, tuning out everything except the roar of blood in his ears and the cock entering his ass.

  How perfectly fucking ironic that, a few short weeks ago, he would’ve never dreamed of visiting a place like this. One more thing he had Nick to thank for.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Nick had never been more happy to see the school year end, and not just because he woke up every morning with a stiff back from sleeping on the floor. He’d seen Eric walking around campus more than once, and every time it was like a bullet through the gut—especially that time they’d locked eyes, and Eric turned and marched off in the other direction.

  “Looks like that’s it,” he said, zipping up his duffel bag. “One junior year, shot to hell.”

  Ally wrapped her arms around his waist, hugging him tight. “Take it easy. Relax and visit with your folks and try to get over Eric, okay?”

  He sighed. “Guess it’s pretty obvious I’m still hung up on him.”

  “You should have it tattooed on your forehead.” She gave him a hopeful look. “But who knows? Maybe by next fall he’ll have figured out what a huge mistake he’s made, and try to make it up to you.”

  “Yeah, right,” he snorted. “You didn’t hear the things he said. The worst part is, I can’t figure out how it all went south so fast. One day we were up at my folks’ house having the time of our lives, and the next, he acted like he couldn’t bear to be in the same room with me.”

  “You know Eric. Give him a chance to run from his feelings, and he’ll grab it like a brass ring. Why do you think he’s spent the last three years fucking guys in bathrooms? It’s easier that way. He gets away clean.”

  “No pun intended.”

  She cracked a little half grin. “You got to him, and it scared the shit out of him. If you’re still wondering if he ever really loved you, there’s your answer.”

  And there it was again, that awful, empty despair he’d barely managed to stave off even with Ally’s help. “What am I going to do?” he whispered. “I love him, but I just can’t…”

  “Sure you can. Go see him before you leave. What have you got to lose?”

  “Aside from my self-respect?”

  “Does that really matter?”

  He let out a shuddery breath. “I can’t think of a thing to say that he’d want to hear.”

  “Who cares if he wants to hear it? He needs to hear it. Don’t go home without telling him how you really feel. You’ll be kicking yourself all summer.”

  Hell, he was already kicking himself. Why hadn’t he gone after Eric that day they’d seen each other on the quad, faced him down, made him see reason? Maybe Eric was afraid of what their relationship meant, but so was he.

  “You’re right,” he said finally.

  “I usually am.” She cocked her head toward the door. “Go talk to him.”

  * * *

  Eric had spent the last day and a half packing, which meant there were boxes everywhere, clothing and books spilling onto the floor, throw rugs rolled up. Most of the furniture was draped in plastic and tagged for professional movers.

  He emerged from the kitchen, nearly dropping the box of utensils in his arms when he saw who was standing in his doorway. “Jesus! Don’t you know how to knock?”

  “Sorry. The door was open.” Nick shoved his hands in his pockets, his Adam’s apple bobbing. “I, uh, wondered if you still had that box of old notebooks I left.”

  Well, of course. He should’ve known Nick hadn’t come back for him. “You’re in luck. I was about to toss them.” He jerked his chin toward a stack of boxes in the corner. “They should all be clearly marked.”

  Shoulders tensing, he busied himself wrapping mugs, plates and flatware in newspaper while Nick sorted through the boxes. At last Nick found what he was looking for and tucked it under his arm. “So, how’ve you been?”

  Oh, he was going to make conversation now, when he hadn’t so much as said hello in the past two months? Eric swung around, throwing him a cold stare. “Why do you care?”

  “Just curious. We haven’t talked in a while. Or seen each other, even.”

  “I’ve seen you several times. Most of those times, you were with Ally.” A hard, prickly edge had crept into his tone, not that he gave a fuck. “How is she, by the way?”

  “She’s great. In fact, we were talking about you this morning.”

  “Enjoying a good joke at my expense, no doubt,” he snapped. “You can drop the wide-eyed innocent act. It’s wearing a bit thin. I saw you two together a few days after we broke up. Looked like you’d gotten quite cozy. Didn’t take you long, did it?”

  Nick flinched. “I don’t know what you think you saw, but I’ve told you before, Ally and I are just friends.”

  “Really? So I completely misinterpreted her kissing you right in the middle of the quad?”

  “On the cheek. It didn’t mean anything.”

  “That seems to be your mantra, doesn’t it? Well, look on the bright side. Now you can tell yourself you were straight all along, and chalk up our little interlude as an aberration.”

  Nick’s cheeks flushed bright pink. Obviously Eric had struck a nerve. And to think he’d once found Nick’s blushes adorable. “It wasn’t an aberration,” Nick denied hotly. “You know it wasn’t.”

  “Oh, please. A straight guy taking an experimental walk on the queer side’s the oldest cliché in the book.” He flipped his box closed and swung around, arms crossed over his chest. “Can’t believe what a fucking fool I was. I won’t make that mistake again.”

  “It wasn’t a mistake for me,” Nick said softly. “And yeah, I know I didn’t act like it most of the time, and I’m sorry—”

  “For all the times you treated me like I was dipped in shit? So you just decided to forget about it? Well, I can’t.”

  Nick stared at him, his jaw tightening. “I came over to apologize, but you’ve obviously made up your mind that I’m the bad guy here. So, fine. Have a nice long, lonely life, Eric.” With that, he let his box slide to the couch and marched out the door.

  Eric stood there paralyzed, listening to his footsteps fade down the hall.

  * * *

  The train was running ten minutes late when Nick arrived at Grand Central. He dropped onto a bench, taking a welcome chance to catch his breath after his marathon trudge through the station dragging his overstuffed duffel bag. He’d barely begun to relax when he spied a familiar hulking form striding up the platform in his direction.

  Oh, fuck. Todd Hobart. The last person he wanted to see. He leaned over, ducking his head, hoping
Hobart wouldn’t notice him.

  No such luck. The asshole stopped right in front of him and bent down to peer in his face. “Hey, Thompson. Heading home to milk cows for the summer?”

  Nick’s lips twitched as he focused on the opposite platform, pretending he hadn’t heard a thing.

  “Gonna visit your butt-buddy Courtland while you’re gone? I heard he lives right across the lake from you. Pretty convenient, having your favorite cocksucker so close.”

  A gray-haired lady sitting at the end of the bench gasped, her gaze settling on Nick. He counted to ten, his hands curling into fists. Dude, you do not want to mess with me today. “Get lost, Todd. I’m not in the mood.”

  “Aw, what’s the matter? Am I embarrassing you in front of your grandma?” He barked out a laugh. “Maybe I should tell her how you were staring at my ass that time.”

  Okay, enough. Nick sprang to his feet, getting right up in Hobart’s freckled, bleary-eyed face. “Shut. Up,” he growled. “Unless you’d like me to tell the whole station what I know about you and that stall in the science building bathroom, Mr. Closet Case.”

  Hobart went instantly pale. “You can’t threaten me, you—”

  “The fuck I can’t. Leave me alone, or next semester it’ll be all over campus. Did I mention I’m best friends with one of the Spectator’s top reporters?” He waited for that to sink in, for Hobart to slowly back away, then take off down the platform as if someone had just lit his ass on fire.

  He sank back onto the bench, breathing easy—well, easier—for the first time all day. Why had he let Hobart harass him for so long? The guy was a typical bully, all coward beneath the bravado.

  He would’ve stood up to the jerk months ago, if he hadn’t been so ashamed. Hiding in the closet, denying his relationship with Eric in public. God, what a shitty thing to do.

  Still, where the hell did Eric get off accusing him of sleeping with Ally? Proof positive he’d never trusted him. And why had he ever trusted Eric? Who knew how many guys he’d been fucking on the side?