“Wow,” Chad said.
“Yeah,” Owen murmured.
Chad reached out and linked his fingers with Owen’s. “Sorry for snapping. That was dumb. And immature.”
“It’s okay, it was a defense mechanism.”
Chad squinted at him. “Are you psychoanalyzing me again?”
Owen grinned. “Never.” He squeezed Chad’s hand. “Thanks for being honest.”
“You’re right, I’m tired of arguing with you over stupid words neither of us really mean.”
“And hey, I’m proud of you. You’re going back to school to do something you’re incredibly talented at. Don’t for one second think I’m looking down on you.”
Which made Chad even more determined to get his ass in school. “Yeah, okay.”
They parted ways ten minutes later, after a little groping session in the hallway. Owen kept Chad’s sweatpants because he was leaving hard and said he needed extra room in the crotch. And Chad had a good time watching Owen’s ass in those sweatpants as he made his way to his car in the parking lot.
Chad ran his hands through his hair and tugged. He’d loved that look in Owen’s eyes—the one where he seemed proud of Chad for going back to school. In fact, he’d loved it a little too much.
And he wondered how bad it would feel if he let Owen—or himself—down.
…
By five o’clock, Chad was exhausted and he still had to work the bar shift. At least he had a break, which he was using to drink his weight in water and house a meatball sub. Braxton stood behind the bar, eating his own sub.
They’d spent the entire afternoon cleaning out the basement. Braxton had a new shipment of tables coming in the next day, and he needed a place to store them until he had time to set them up. Cleaning out the basement at the last minute was a pain in the ass, but Braxton was paying him, so he shut up and he hauled crap until his muscles were liquid. Hell, he could barely lift the damn sub.
Braxton gestured to Chad’s chest with his chin. “You’re gonna look jacked behind the bar tonight after all that lifting you did today.”
Chad didn’t say anything, suddenly—and rarely—a little self-conscious about someone commenting on his body. Was this what happened when he was…with someone?
Was he with Owen?
“So…” Braxton leaned on the bar. “Ace said he talked to you about the Pit. Have you thought more about the job offer?”
Chad poked at a meatball that threatened to abandon ship. Yeah, he’d thought about the job offer. Other than Owen, that was all he’d thought about as he hauled dusty boxes in the basement of Blue Moon all afternoon.
The Peach Pit was this tempting fruit dangling in front of his face. If he reached for it, he might get what he wanted—more money to go to school. But at what price? Because no way could he tell Owen he’d danced for money.
Owen had been so encouraging and eager to hear about Chad going back to school. He had to make it a reality now, come hell or high water, and money was the way to do it. And part of him wanted to show Owen he could do it all on his own, without needing him to call his professor friends.
Chad prided himself on letting things roll off his back, but the idea of a guy he liked thinking he needed help had made his hackles go up. Big-time.
He swallowed. He could see how the job at the Peach Pit went. Just one time. Owen would never know. And if the money was really good and Chad decided to work more, then he’d find a way to come clean to Owen.
Somehow.
Because this was it, his future was there, right in front of his face. So he just had to put himself out on a ledge a little and reach for it, right?
So he nodded and looked Braxton in the eye. “Yeah, actually, I wanna do it.”
Braxton’s eyebrows lifted. “Yeah?”
“Yeah.”
His boss smacked his palm on top of the bar. “Excellent. Can you come Saturday? It’s ladies’ night.”
“I have a shift here—”
“Yeah, till eleven, then you’ll come to the Pit after. Can you handle all that?”
He’d take an afternoon nap. “Sure.”
Braxton nodded and went back to eating, but not without shooting Chad another look. “You’ll do well there, you’ll see. Clients will love you. Men and women.”
It was a pretty bad sign that those words made his skin crawl.
…
Grant leaned on Owen’s desk, his arms over his chest. “Do you have any questions about the meeting?”
Owen swallowed. Grant was taking the time to go over the game plan for that Saturday while Owen was making what he considered a pretty valiant effort at not appearing freaked out. “Are there any materials I need to bring?”