Prologue
Dre woke on the bedroom floor disoriented. What the fuck?
Then he heard Nate’s moans and a crash as a lamp tumbled to the floor—much like he evidently had.
Dre got to his feet and returned to bed. Leaning over, he gripped Nate’s shoulders in an attempt to still his agitated movements “Wake up, babe. I think you’re having a nightmare.”
Nate bolted upright, smacking his forehead onto Dre’s in the process.
“Dre?” Nate gave him a dazed look. “Fuck! I’m so sorry.”
“Don’t worry about it. I’m okay.” Dre left the bed and headed for the bathroom. Dousing a washcloth with cold water, he bent over the sink, sluicing his throbbing head. He checked out the damage in the mirror.
Nate entered the bathroom and stood behind him, rubbing his own head. He looked at Dre’s reflection. “Were you cut?”
“Nope, I have a hard head.” He gave Nate a lopsided grin before throwing the washcloth in the hamper and drying his face with a towel.
“Let me see.” Nate turned Dre around and held his face in his hands. “You’re gonna have a nasty bruise.” Nate leaned forward until their noses touched. “I’m sorry.”
Dre shifted his head so he could look into the dark brown eyes of the man he was fast falling in love with. “It was just a bump on the head. I’m fine. Now tell me what’s got you tossing and turning.”
Nate pulled away and reentered the bedroom. He returned the lamp he’d knocked over to the nightstand and sat on the bed. “It’s nothing. Probably just overtired.”
Dre joined him and laced their hands together. “Are you sure that’s it? Does your restlessness have anything to do with me asking you to move in with me at dinner? Because I meant what I said then—no pressure.” Dre brushed a kiss across Nate’s knuckles.
The mattress shifted as Nate tugged his hand away to pace. “Dre, uh… I’m sorry, but I can’t do this anymore.”
“Do what anymore?” Dre frowned, confused.
“This.” Nate waved his hands. “Us.”
“What are you talking about, Nate?” he asked carefully. Surely Nate wasn’t breaking up with him. Dre had had flings when he was younger. Now thirty, he’d experienced enough to know this was different, better. Nate was different. This was more than a fling, and there was no way he would let Nate slip away.
“Things are just not working out,” Nate replied.
Was there a hint of sadness in Nate’s voice? He hoped so. Dre stood and reached for the other man, wrapping his arms around him. “Nate, look at me. I’m sure we can work through whatever you think is wrong.”
Nate shook his head and said softly, “I really don’t think we can.”
There it was again, that hint of regret in Nate’s tone. He wasn’t truly decided yet; there was hope Dre could fix this. He placed a gentle kiss on Nate’s lips. “Come on, babe. Let’s go back to bed. It’s late, and as you said, you’re tired. What do you say we sort this out in the morning? Okay?”
Nate smiled. “Sure.”
Nate’s smile eased the ache in Dre’s heart. Things would be okay. Dre led him to the bed and held him close. They would talk tomorrow, deal with whatever was bothering Nate, and get back to building their relationship into something lasting.
The next morning Nate was gone.
I
Dre slammed the tray of burned cookies on the counter. Another day, another fuck up. Christ. Would his life ever return to normal?
“Uh, dude, careful. Wouldn’t want those cookies to crumble.”
“Fuck you, S.J.” Dre turned to face his best friend as she closed the screen door.
“Do ya mean it? Honest? Woohoo! I’ve been dying to sink my pussy onto that thick cock for evah!”
Dre threw the oven mitt at S.J. and couldn’t have stopped the smile spreading across his face if he wanted to. Trust her to pull him out of his funk. At least temporarily. Nothing had been the same since Nate left, and he’d kicked himself every day for pushing the other man too far too soon and, apparently, pushing him away altogether. Why did he have to ask him to move in? Things had been going great. He should have left it alone.
When he’d awakened to an empty bed, he hadn’t thought anything of it. Nate was nearly fanatical about his early morning runs—hell, about exercise in general. Worry didn’t set in until breakfast and still no sign of Nate. Dre had thought back to the weird conversation of the previous night and had known something was wrong. He’d tried Nate’s cell but only got voice mail. After the kazillionth message with no return call, he’d headed over to the inn where Nate was staying—usually he was only in town for a few days at a time—but to his surprise, Nate had checked out.
“What are you doing here?” Dre asked.
“Since when do I need a reason to visit my partner in crime?” S.J. hopped onto the bar stool behind the counter in the industrial-size kitchen and picked up one of the cookies, tossing it back and forth.
“Since you’re supposed to be on vacation. Shouldn’t you be halfway to Barbados by now?”
S.J. scoffed. “Barbados schmarbados. Who needs paradise when I could be here torturing you? Besides, the way things are looking in this kitchen, somebody has to make sure Taste of Spice doesn’t end up in the compost heap.” She threw the cookie back to the counter and wiped her hands on her pants.
Dre smiled ruefully. “No danger of that happening. I was just trying out a new recipe, got distracted is all. Now go away.” He motioned with his hands toward the door.
“Can’t do it. I’ve watched you moping around here for six months. That’s too fucking long. We’re going out tonight, even if I have to drag you out of here by your ass hair.”
“My ass is as smooth as a baby’s bottom, I’ll have you know.”
“Whatever!” S.J. laughed. “Anyhoo, there’s a new bar called Straight Up. It’s only been open three months or so, but it’s all anyone is talking about.”
Dre sighed. “I’m not up for the bar scene, Sarah Jean.”
“Whoa. No need for name-calling. We’re going. I have spoken.”
Dre stuck his tongue out at S.J. “Bossy bitch.”
“You wouldn’t have it any other way.” S.J. blew him a kiss on her way out the door. “Pick me up at nine. Oh, and wear something sexy.”
Dre threw the other mitt.
“You missed.” He could hear her singsong voice as she walked to her car.
Dre laughed and shook his head. God, he loved S.J.
