The club was mostly dark and empty when Micah entered it less than an hour after Grady had fled. There was no other term to describe the panicked retreat that’d chased him down the stairs and out the front door.
“Dane?” he called out as he made his way down the service hallway and into the main bar area. “It’s Micah.” His voice echoed back at him in an eerie way. A glance up showed Dane at the big office window that looked down on the bar below. No doubt the security system had alerted him the second Micah slid his employee card into the reader.
Dane motioned him up with a lift of his chin, and Micah gave a relieved sigh. He’d taken a chance coming here when the place was still closed, but he needed to talk to someone and there were few who’d understand this situation like Dane would.
He bounded up the stairs, stopping to knock even though he was expected.
“Get in here.”
Dane’s order was clear through the door and he followed it. The office was long and narrow with several large windows down the entire length, each one providing an unobstructed view of the different areas of the club. Dane’s own observation station that was backed up by cameras and a security team.
“What’s wrong?”
He shook his head at Dane’s deep frown and instant suspicion. “Why does something have to be wrong?”
Dane spread his stance, arms crossing over his broad chest. “Then tell me everything’s good and you’re here”—he glanced at his watch—“six hours early because you missed my charming personality.”
“Fuck you,” he said around the sardonic edge of his chuckle. Dane knew he was right and there was no point in denying it. But he sure as hell didn’t have to feed the bastard’s ego.
“Only Bobby’s allowed to do that.” Dane’s devious smile shifted his expression. “And only when I tell him to.”
He didn’t even try to find a comeback for that. He gave him a wry smile and strolled to the back window to stare down at the dungeon. The room was fully lit, several people busy cleaning every piece of equipment. Dane was a stickler on sanitation and safety. A little OCD even—not that it was a bad thing in a leather club.
Dane came up behind him, his reflection faint in the glass. At six foot three, built like a Mack truck dressed in all black, he was intimidating as fuck under normal situations. His buzz cut and tattoo sleeves on both arms had most plugging him into the bad-ass biker or ex-con category. War veteran and Marine sergeant usually didn’t fall into the equation unless Dane chose to share the info.
He didn’t say anything though. Just took up a spot next to Micah and focused on the activity below. Of course. After all, he’d been the one to show Micah the value of letting things pass and waiting until the moment was right to act—whatever that might mean.
“How did you know you were a Dom?” Micah asked out of the blue. A segue, maybe? Or a true curiosity? Both, probably.
“How did you know you were gay?”
Micah barked out a dry laugh. “I wanted to fuck guys, not girls.”
“Exactly.” Dane shrugged. “And I wanted that, but more.” He turned to Micah, brows lowered as he dug through what Micah wasn’t saying, a trait that had many subs certain he was a mind reader. “A strong top isn’t the same as a Dom.”
“I know that,” he insisted. “I’m not a Dom. Shit.” He jerked a hand through his hair, turning from the window. “I have no desire to control a person even though I need to control the sex. But God, I want to help.” Would a Dom be better suited for Grady? The right Dom, not the asshole jerk who’d manipulated him when he was younger. “I want to be what Grady needs and I have no fucking idea what that is or how to be it.” The truth poured out on a wave of frustration.
He stormed to the other end of the room before spinning around to come right back. This was crazy and annoying and—exactly what he thought would happen if he got too involved with Grady.
And just like that, the rebounding irritation left him. His head dropped forward, his fingers relaxing their grip on his hips. The new cuff chaffed his skin and he slowly shifted to encircle the band with his other hand.
He could only be who he was and hope it was enough. And if it wasn’t, he’d deal.
“Got it all figured out now?”
He clenched his jaw, head shaking at Dane’s amazing perception. “I can’t change who I am.”
“And you shouldn’t.” Dane propped his backside on the edge of his desk, arms and legs crossing. “Does this have to do with your disability?”
Did it? “I’m not sure.” The memories of coming out of the after-haze of his orgasms, dazed and floundering but secure in Grady’s arms, plus the other times Grady had been there for him when his brain had blipped while they’d been out said no. And the cuff. The surprisingly tender gesture spoke to the little things Grady noticed. But…“It’s a lot to put on someone.”
Dane hitched a shoulder up. “Not if it’s the right someone.”
“And how do I know if he is?” He flung his hands up, the doubts driving him insane.
“He’ll let you know.”
Right. And Grady could barely get “me too” out this morning. But then he’d never once complained about or made fun of Micah’s fucked-up brain. No, instead he’d given him something in an attempt to help.
“Everyone has baggage,” Dane said, breaking into Micah’s thoughts. “None of us are lily white and issue free. Relationships are about loving someone despite their shit. Maybe because of it.”
Simple in theory and so much harder to believe.
“I had sex on a mountaintop,” he confessed.
“No shit.” Dane grunted. “I’m assuming with Grady.”
He glared at his mentor and friend. “Yes.”
“And?”
“I was okay.” He looked away, the simplicity of the statement hiding the magnitude. He still marveled at the wild trust he’d thrown at Grady and he hadn’t faltered, not once. “He…handled it without making me feel like a complete loser.”
“That’s happened before?”
He whipped his head around, dumbfounded by Dane’s question. “Christ. You know it has.”
Dane stepped forward. “Here?”
“Yes, here!”
His frown deepened, brows drawn impossibly low. “Who?”
The question was really a demand, and Micah was shaking his head before his answer was out. “Oh, no.” He backed up a step. “I’m not telling you that.”
“Were they subs I recommended?”
“It doesn’t matter.”
“It does to me.”
“It shouldn’t.”
“How can it not?” Dane flung his hand up, anger radiating from him. “I trusted them and they hurt you. I can’t let that happen.”
Micah leaned in, his own anger raging. “I don’t need you to protect me.”
“Really?” They were almost nose to nose now, hot breaths gusting between the rapid-fire assaults. “And how in the hell am I supposed to not do that?”
“By not making this about you.”
“I’m not.”
“No?” Micah scoffed, eyes rolling. “Really?” The hot flash of indignation receded beneath Dane’s good intentions. “Then it doesn’t matter who or when or what happened in that room. It happened to me and I dealt with it. Period.” He scrubbed a hand over his face and moved back, giving them both some needed space.
Dane sighed, head dropping forward for a beat. The tension was gone from his posture when he looked up, expression still grim. “I know you can handle it. That’s not what I was implying.”
“But that’s how it came across.” Micah blew out a long breath and rubbed at the knot of muscles congealing at the base of his neck. Of course his thoughts went straight to the knots he’d massaged out of Grady’s shoulders that morning. Had it helped him? Had he helped him in any way?
Dane’s grunt held a put-out tone. “I won’t apologize for caring.”
The warmth that spread through his chest was old and familiar. Dane had been there for him in ways his family and old friends hadn’t been able to be. “And I wouldn’t expect you to.” The older brother he never had, that was how he related to Dane, and Micah was damn glad he’d come into his life when he had.
Dane moved around his desk to drop heavily into the leather executive’s chair. He rocked back, motioning to the guest chair. Only a select few were ever allowed to see Dane with his guard down and Micah was honored to be one of those people.
He took a seat, leaning forward to rest his chin on his clasped hands. “I didn’t mean to snap at you.”
Dane rolled his head on his shoulders. “Likewise.”
The silence stretched without stress, his thoughts swirling and emotions churning in a dark mess of hope and disappointment he had no right to feel. Grady had never promised him anything. Hell, he was in no place to make any offers. That didn’t stop him from wishing things were different.
He chuckled at himself. Would he ever learn? Wishing never changed reality.
“You really care about this guy.”
Dane’s statement was made without judgment, which had him answering honestly. “A lot.”
“And he treats you good?”
“Normal,” Micah said without thinking. “He treats me normal. And good.”
Dane nodded slowly. “But he’s got a load of shit on his plate.”
Micah snorted. “Heaping, steaming piles.”
“Nice visual.”
“It’s the truth.” He sat up, stretching his back. “And I’ve known this all along, so it’s my own damn fault for wanting more than he can give.”
“So why are you here?”
The direct question was exactly what Micah expected and precisely why he was here. “For you to tell me to back off. Not to push. To give Grady the distance he needs.” He winced. “To check my own needs and be there for him.”
“No,” Dane insisted, the adamant firmness surprising Micah. Dane leaned forward, pointing at him. “You don’t check your own needs, not completely. Yours are just as important as his. Balance. Give and take, yes. But shutting down what’s fundamentally important to you is the first sign to get out.”
“I thought love was about putting someone else first,” Micah countered even though he immediately thought back to Grady’s first experience with a Dom. There’d been no balance there, but love? That he didn’t know.
“Only if they’re doing the same for you. That’s balance.”
“What if he’s not able to at the moment?” Finn had to be first right now. He didn’t expect Grady to shove that responsibility aside. He wouldn’t ask him to either.
Dane sat back, chair rocking silently. “Then maybe the timing isn’t right.”
Which was another fact Micah already knew. Damn it. “You’re right,” he admitted, dejection settling heavy in his chest. “It sucks, but I can’t change facts.”
“Or the way you feel,” Dane said, his wisdom spot on again.
And that right there was the kicker. Micah was in love with the messed-up jerk and he couldn’t change that either.
Grady was hurting but healing, much like himself, only Grady was at a more turbulent stage of the cycle. And there was no way Micah would abandon him now, even if he could get himself to walk away.
Which he couldn’t.