13

I drove past Rogue's several times before I was finally able to talk myself into going in. It was our place, I had to go in there. If I was ever going to get past this, I needed to confront everything that reminded me of him.

The first night at Rogue's was more uncomfortable than anything else. It literally felt like I had to relearn how to go out again. I sat alone at a far table in the corner, just trying to stay calm enough not to start crying because everything had him all over it.

The second night I went back was actually harder than the first. It was open mic night, which reminded me of Ethan in itself, but then three idiots decided to sing Bad Boy by Inner Circle and I completely lost it. Ethan's ringtone was that stupid COPS theme song, and I always busted his balls for it. I elected to leave instead of going to cry in the bathroom. Either way, it was a failure.

Night after night, I went back, and slowly but surely, I finally grew comfortable with my surroundings again. There were plenty of close calls over time; times when I would think I saw Ethan out of the corner of my eye. I was able to teach myself this breathing ritual that calmed me down enough to think clearly—clear enough to realize that I was imagining him.

Tonight, I was even able to sit at a table with another man. I was feeling guilty for it still, but I was able to hold my own in a conversation with him despite that. I'm fairly sure he's gay, because he keeps giving me this little smile and I think he's flirting. I'm not nearly close enough to being ready to even think about dating yet, but I think it's healthy for me to talk to a man—a gay man. I've made myself promise that I will find myself a nice gay boyfriend and settle down, no more playing the straight boys. Or I'm just going to be alone forever, because I can't even look this gay guy in the eye without feeling like shit.

I miss Ethan. I want Ethan.

I look up at Caleb—Caleb? I think that's his name. Sounds close enough. I look up at him and he's staring at me expectantly.

"What? Sorry, I got distracted, can you run that by me again?" I say, having no idea what he's just said.

He looks a bit disappointed as he glances down at the table, but then he raises his eyes to me again and smiles. "I asked if you were single."

"Oh..." I breathe. I don't know how to answer. The truth is obviously that I am as single as a dollar bill, but I can't bring myself to tell him that. I am too attached to Ethan to honestly be a real single man. "It's complicated," is my answer for his question.

"Well, it's not any of my business, I know, but does it have anything to do with that man at the bar who keeps glancing over here?"

"What?" I ask.

"That guy," he says, leaning forward, and I follow suit. "He keeps looking over here, at you actually, but he's caught my eye a few times, and if looks could kill..."

My stomach clenches and I turn without really thinking it through. I know it's probably Johnathon or James, or anyone other than Ethan, but I can't help but hope. And my hope isn't pointless, because Ethan is sitting up at the bar, a bottle of beer gripped so tightly between his white knuckles that I'm sure it's going to shatter in his hand.

I quickly turn back around in my seat. I probably look like I've just seen a ghost, and I honestly feel like I have. I'm shaking and I can't breathe, and Caleb is asking me if I'm okay, but I don't know how to respond.

I knew there was a chance that I'd see him again someday, but I never expected it to be this soon. I thought he'd avoid Rogue's since I knew he'd want to avoid me. But he's here.

I can't even look at him, though I desperately want to. I have to leave him alone. He doesn't want me.

Caleb stands up abruptly and I look up at him. He's not looking at me at all, so I figure I've probably ruined it with him quite thoroughly now, but I don't give a shit. It's actually kind of a relief.

Suddenly, as abruptly as Caleb had risen to his feet, I am being pulled to my own by my shirt collar.

My head is spinning, and I have no idea what is happening, but I hear someone yell about taking their hands off me, and someone else yells about staying away from me and there is what sounds like a fist connecting with something hard.

I can't see straight, I can't breathe, and I know it is because of Ethan. Ethan has me by the collar of my shirt and he's dragging me across the bar. I don't know where we are going, and I am scared of what he is going to do to me or say to me, but I stumble along with him anyway because I love him. I love him and I'll let him beat the living shit out of me if it means he's going to touch me.

He thrusts me forward and I hit a wall. Something slams so loudly the sound reverberates around the room and I'm shaking so hard that my knees nearly buckle, but I don't move. His open palms slam against the wall on either side of my head and I cower before him. His jaw is as hard and solid as the wall behind me, rippling as he clenches and loosens it. His eyes are dark and dangerous, and I can feel myself wanting to gravitate toward the pull he has over me. I want to fall into him. I want to fall into the dark and dangerous, the unknown.

"Why are you doing this to me?" he asks, his voice surprisingly quiet and soft compared to the charged way he is standing over me.

I can't answer. My brain seems disconnected from my body. Even if I could think of something to say to him, I don't know if I could make my lips move to form the words.

"Who is he?" he asks, not so quietly. This time the edge is there, his tone lethal as the look he has fixed on me. I tremble and again can't answer, and it seems to piss him off more. "Answer me!" he yells and slams his hands against the wall again.

"I don't know," I gasp, shaking. "His name is Jacob, I just met him. I think he's gay."

"You think he's gay?" Ethan asks hysterically. He laughs bitterly. "He has been eyeing you all night, you can bet your ass he's gay."

"I didn't notice," I say honestly.

"Jackson, are you okay?" I hear called from outside. I realize for the first time that we are in the handicapped bathroom stall at Rogue's. I momentarily wonder who the hell Jackson is. I really don't think anyone else is in here. "Oh, shit, please answer me. Jackson, are you okay?"

Ethan seems to realize the same moment I do that it is Jacob out there and I am apparently the guy he is looking for. His arms tense and the expression on his face turns absolutely fucking murderous. His nostrils flare and his body moves closer to mine before he pushes himself away from the wall.

I want to reach out for him, I'm terrified of what he's going to do, but I'm frozen against the wall, too scared to touch him.

The door bounces off the wall with a thud when Ethan yanks it open.

"Where is he?" I hear Caleb ask darkly.

"That's none of your business. I thought I told you to stay away from him. I guess I didn't make myself very clear."

"Jackson, are you okay?" Caleb asks again.

I open my dry mouth to respond but Ethan beats me to it. "His name is Jasper, you dickhead, and he isn't interested in you, so I'll say this for the last time. Keep your hands off of him and stay away."

"Listen, I don't know who you are or what your problem is, but we were having a nice time until he realized that you were here. He looked really scared the second he saw you sitting there, and you dragged him away like a complete prick, so I just want to make sure he's okay. Okay?" Caleb's voice gives towards the end, and I know I have to do something before Ethan ruins his future by hurting this poor guy.

I close my eyes for a second and take a deep breath. I can do this.

I raise my hand to my face to make sure there aren't any tears there before slowly pressing away from the wall. I step through the door opening and find Jacob shoved up against the mirror,

Ethan's fist raised in front of his face. He looks ready to hit him, but Caleb darts his wide eyes to me and visibly relaxes when he sees that I'm fine.

Physically, at least.

I meet Ethan's eyes in the mirror, and he stares back at me for a long moment. He releases Caleb unexpectedly and Caleb sags downward against the sinks, coughing slightly as he massages the skin on his throat.

"Get out of here and remember what I told you," Ethan growls.

Caleb gives him a glare then his face softens as he looks at me. "Are you sure you’re okay? I'll leave my number—"

"No, you won't," Ethan cuts him off. He grabs Caleb by the hair and forcibly shoves him through the door. After shoving the door shut behind him, Ethan clicks the lock into place and doesn't look at me as he walks over to the sinks.

He turns a faucet on and runs his hands under the water, then rubs them over his face and into his hair. "Do you see what you've done to me?" he asks quietly, keeping his hands over his face.

"You were always pretty volatile," I say back bravely.

He scoffs but doesn't deny it. "Are you with Johnathon?" he asks suddenly, completely catching me off guard.

I start laughing, but only until I realize that he's serious. "No," I answer firmly. I take a cautious step in his direction and when he doesn't seem to mind, I take another. "Ethan, I was never with Johnathon. What you saw, it was a one-time thing that I did only because I had to. He bribed me, he had something I wanted."

"Yeah, a cock," Ethan replies.

I don't hesitate to sucker punch him in the shoulder and he hisses and moves away. "Don't be a prick," I scold.

He laughs and nods. "Sorry," he mumbles and rubs his shoulder. His face crumples then and he says, "No, no, I'm not. Why should I believe you? You lied to me."

I close my eyes to block out the hurt expression on his face, but it's already burned into my retinas, and I can see it whether I look at him or not. "I did lie to you, and I'm sorry, Ethan. I'm done lying now, and I know that you probably won't believe me, but I did what I did for you."

"You... No," he spits, sounding pissed off again. He's apparently pissed again, because he shoves me back against the wall, hard enough to make my head slam into it. "Don't you dare tell me that you were shoving your tongue in his mouth for me. That's bullshit!"

I slowly open my eyes, and he quickly moves away, refusing to look at me.

"I'm not lying to you anymore, Ethan. I kissed Johnathon because he had pictures of you. In the beginning it was only about me having the pictures, but in the end, that's not why I did it. Yes, I did want them, but after what happened, I couldn't even bring myself to look at them because I knew you wouldn't want me to. Johnathon doesn't have them anymore, I do, and if you say the word, I'll delete them."

"What are you talking about? What pictures?"

"From a long time ago," I explain. "Johnathon stole the pictures off of one of your old girlfriend's phones."

The realization hits him quickly. His cheeks go pink, and he closes his eyes. "Johnathon has pictures of me jerking off?"

"No," I answer. "He did, but now I have them. But I swear to you, Ethan, I haven't looked at them and I'll delete them if you want me to."

"Why?" he inquires, finally looking me in the eye again.

"Because they are yours, they're personal. I knew you wouldn't want me seeing them, so I respected that. I know it doesn't make up for the fact that I lied to you, but just know that I'm really sorry, and if I could take it all back I would. And..."

"What?" Ethan asks.

I lick my lips then start to chew on the bottom one as I contemplate finishing my sentence. I decide that I have to say it, just once. If he rejects me, then he rejects me, and hopefully I'll be able to move on knowing that I said it.

"And I really care about you. I've missed you," I say.

His eyes lower slightly and he stares at the top of my shirt for a few awkward breaths until he speaks again. "This wasn't supposed to happen," he speaks quietly.

"I know, I'm sorry," I affirm.

"I like girls," he continues.

"I know. Maybe we can try to be friends again," I hear myself suggesting before I realize what it is that I'm actually saying. I don't know what I'm thinking, I just know I don't want to lose him completely if I still have a chance. "I promise I don't have ulterior motives, and I'll never put you in an awkward situation. We can just be friends, I promise." Please. Please. Please!

"I don't think we can, Jasper. I don't think we can go back," he says.

I tuck my chin defensively, but it doesn't stop the breaking of my heart. Stupid, stupid hope. "That's... perfectly understandable," I assure him.

"I think I jinxed myself right from the beginning by insisting you were a girl," he says laughingly.

I'm confused for about seventeen seconds, then it clicks and my head rockets back, slamming against the hard ass wall again. It hurts like hell since I've already hit it once and tears instantly fill my eyes.

Ethan's eyes anxiously scan my face as he reaches his hands up into my hair. I tense and inhale as he presses his fingers against the sore spot on my skull and lightly starts to rub.

"You're going to give yourself a concussion," he chastises.

I want to tell him that it's his fault, but my mind is too busy reeling. What is he saying? I know my eyes are wide and my mouth is probably hanging open, but I can't contain my shock. Is he really saying what I think he is? His eyes nervously move to the side, and I still feel myself rudely gawking and scanning his face, trying to figure out what he is saying.

There's a three second pause where he gets this determined look on his face and I hold my breath, waiting for him to say it, whatever it is he's wanting to say, but he just drops to his knee.

Then his hands are quickly undoing the front of my jeans and he's yanking my pants and underwear down my thighs. It takes three-fourths of a second for me to achieve a raging hard-on. My dick comprehends what he's doing before my brain does—I guess for certain things, it's better to think with your little head.

"What are you doing?" I ask, though it is pretty obvious what he plans on doing as he stares down my cock.

And then his hand is wrapped around it. And then his lips are wrapped around it. And I'm in heaven.

Or my dick is in heaven. My mind is too busy trying to catch up.

"Holy motherfucking Christ," I gasp.

How did my dick get in his mouth?

Who cares, were my dick's thoughts. No, no, no, this is so wrong, is the only thing running through my mind. And, as I had to remind myself, I am now thinking with my big head.

But my original cursing gasp seemed to spur him on. He took more of me into his mouth, and I felt him gag the second I hit his throat.

"Jesus, Ethan, stop," I say frantically. I gently grip his shoulders and push him away. If my dick could scream, it would be doing so now, in protest.

"What?" he asks defensively. He stands up and I reach for him, but he shrinks away.

"What the hell are you thinking?" I wonder aloud. I still don't understand how the hell my dick ended up in his mouth.

His face turns a furious shade of pink, and he looks beyond hurt. "You don't want me?" he asks resignedly.

A disbelieving laugh bursts from my lips before I can stop it and his eyes pop open, surprisingly watery. I glance down suggestively before muttering, "I think the answer speaks for itself."

His eyes follow and then he's staring at my cock. There are several times when I think he is going to look away, but he doesn't. As if I wasn't already hard enough from him putting my dick in his mouth, now he's staring at it and the blood pulsing through it just turns painful. He looks like he's at war with himself, caught somewhere between wanting to look away and not being able to. I solve his problem for him by stuffing myself back into my pants.

"We need to take this slow," I explain, as he starts to look sort of upset again. "Maybe go back to being just friends so we can get comfortable with each other again. I need you to be able to trust me before we can, uh, you know, take it to the next level. I mean, if you want to, someday. I don't want you to feel pressured into this. If you decide that you want me, you're going to have to feel secure with me, and right now, you don't. I can't do this if it's not right for you too."

"Why do you keep suggesting that we go back to being just friends?" he asks.

I throw my hands up in frustration. "I have no idea, because I'm a cock-blocker?"

The smirk that adorns his face after I say that makes me want to weep. I've missed it so much. "Can I kiss you?" I hear myself say all breathily.

His smirk widens further. "Thought you just said we are going to be just friends."

I nearly snark back at him, but a vicious pound on the door cuts me off. "Gentlemen, I’m going to need you to open this door immediately."

"Shit," I hissed.

"Want to have some fun?" he asks, this devious little glint in his eye that makes me positive that I want to say yes, no matter the consequences.

I nod and he reaches for my hair and starts rubbing my head wildly, then pulling his long fingers through it 'til it is all standing on end. I'm confused, to say the least, and wondering if I just got myself some weird, kinky boyfriend.

He starts doing the same to his own hair then he undoes the top four buttons of his shirt and unzips his pants. I finally catch on and untie my shoes and he snickers.

God, I love him.

I rip my shirt off and flip it inside-out.

"I'm coming in," I hear from outside the door seconds before I hear the lock turning. I quickly pull my shirt back over my head and try not to laugh.

In barges the bartender, who has been yelling at us and behind him is Jacob. I hear Ethan growl, and I giggle to myself like a schoolgirl. I grab one of his wrists, just to be on the safe side, and he entwines our fingers, squeezing my hand roughly.

"Why was the door locked?" the man demands.

I bite my lip to keep from laughing and I can see Ethan smirking from the corner of my eye. The man watches Ethan uses his free hand to zip his pants up and I think it finally clicks.

He steps into the bathroom and lets the door close behind him. "Look, I don't want to have to report this, so can you please just keep that shit in the privacy of your home?"

Jacob pushes the door open before we can answer and Ethan tenses behind me. I step in front of Ethan as he tries to move forward, and I catch his other wrist as he goes to raise his hand.

He's a jealous, over-protective little bastard.

I can feel Ethan pressing himself against my backside and his breath is puffing into my hair in short bursts. It makes me so hot that I seriously start to get a little incoherent.

The bartender clears his throat, drawing my attention back to his question.

"Oh, yeah, sure, absolutely. It'll never happen again."

"Great," he says, sounding sarcastic. He turns to leave anyway, and Caleb holds the door open for him, but doesn't follow.

"I'm going to kill him," Ethan breathes down my neck. I shudder and unintentionally shove my ass back against his groin, which makes him tense.

Well, babe, that's what you get when you talk dirty to me.

Gathering my bearings, I look up at Jacob. "Caleb, I'm sorry. Thank you so much for making sure that I was okay. I promise, I am. I'd like to make it up to you."

"What?" Ethan gasps and I tighten my grip on his wrists. "No, you won't. You're not making anything up to him."

"I'd like to give you the number of a friend of mine," I go on, ignoring Ethan's panic attack behind me.

"Oh," Ethan sighs. I jump when his lips touch the back of my neck. "Sorry," he whispers.

This time it's completely intentional when I shove my ass against him, and he chuckles.

I swear to God, I'm not going to make it a week without screwing him...

"If you've been here before, you might have seen him. He's really tall and built, he has dark brown, really curly hair and his eyes are shockingly blue."

"He's gay?" Caleb asks in disbelief, sounding as if he knows exactly who I'm talking about.

I nod. "Yes, his name is Johnathon, and I'm sure he'd love to meet you."

I willingly give Caleb J's information and hope that it'll make up for the trouble I've caused for both of them.

After Caleb leaves, I pull my shirt off and grin when I catch Ethan watching. I flip it back the right way, then kneel down and start retying my shoelaces. "You should probably fix your shirt," I suggest.

Truthfully, I'd rather strut my fine ass out of this place with Ethan's arm around me and a shit-eating grin on my face while he looks like he'd been thoroughly fucked, but I'm worried what will happen if someone comments on us being 'homos.'

I'm not naïve, and I know we are going to have a long, hard road ahead of us. I'm willing to work through it, I just hope that he will be too.

"We should go somewhere private so we can talk. The men's room at a bar isn't exactly a good place to be working this out."

He nods in agreement. "My place or yours?" he asks.

"Yours, preferably. At least there I won't have to sleep on a couch if it gets too late."

"Scared to share a bed with me, Davies?" he asks, jokingly.

I want to laugh, I do. But I can't because I remember the last time we slept in the same house, and the hurt comes rushing back.

"You're the one who accused me of rape," I deadpan.

The smirk that had been on his face melts away like I've just backhanded him. "Jasper..." he says desperately. "I'm so sorry, I never actually thought—"

"Let's talk about this at your place, okay?" I ask, cutting him off as gently as possible.

He nods slowly. "Are you sure? I mean, are you sure that you want this? If you only want to be friends, I can do that, if it's really all you want."

"Hey," I say as I start to lose him. He's looking everywhere but at me, and this is why I want to get him home. I need him to be somewhere he's comfortable, not a bar bathroom. It's only making this shit worse. I know he's feeling more than just a little bit confused and insecure right now. "I'm sure. Let's go."

Ethan needs to use the bathroom, so I leave ahead of him and tell him I'll meet him at his place. He looks a little worried, like I might be lying, and I won't meet him there, but he's crazy if he really thinks that. I guess he really doesn't know that I love him, yet.

"I'll see you in a few," I promise. He nods, still looking a little reluctant, and watches me as I back out the door.