Tied to Trouble(50)

“And so, you’re not who I thought you were. Not if you can say those things to me after that night we had. So maybe I read too much into the time we spent together this week. That was me wishing for something I should have known I shouldn’t have wished for.” He swallowed, suddenly so tired he could barely stand up. He took one last look at Chad. “You don’t even care about your own well-being. Why did I think you’d care about mine?”

And that was it. Owen was done.

Chad didn’t stop him as he walked by him and out the door. And Owen really, truly didn’t want him to. He wanted to go home. To his fish and his bed and his job and to not think about the time he tied himself to trouble.





Chapter Fourteen


Chad angrily swiped his key card through the reader. The LED lights didn’t change to green, and he swiped it again with a growl because what was going on with his face? Why did his eyes sting, and why was there something wet on the end of his nose and why was this ache in his chest making it hard to breathe?

Those fucking lights were still red. Chad slammed his palm onto the door. He cried out as pain radiated through his wrist, then kicked the door, too.

A hand rested on his shoulder, and he jumped away from the touch, looking up to see Ace staring at him, frowning.

Ace didn’t say a word as he gently swiped his own key card. The green lights came on and Chad rushed through the doors, eager to get his damn clothes on and get the hell out of this club. Ace stood silently as Chad tore off the briefs, balled them up, and threw them in a corner. Then he tugged on his jeans and pulled on a shirt.

Last was his motorcycle jacket, the smell of leather comforting. He was never taking it off again. Maybe he’d sleep in it.

Ace finally spoke as Chad zipped up his bag. “You okay?”

“I’m not getting up on that stage,” Chad said.

“Uh, yeah, I gathered that. And I don’t care. I want to know if you’re okay.”

Chad looked up, into the kind eyes of his coworker and a guy he now called a friend. He knew his lip was trembling, and his face was red. And all he did was shake his head.

Ace’s face fell, and he stepped forward, pulling Chad into an embrace. And Chad rested his head on Ace’s lotioned-up shoulder and held on. “I was so stupid, Ace,” he muttered. “I was stupid for not telling him.”

“The guy in the glasses and bow tie?”

Chad squeezed his eyes shut and nodded.

Ace rubbed his back. “Just take a breather, man, then explain. I saw his face. He cares about you.”

Chad pulled out of the hug and wiped his nose on his sleeve. “Nah, I blew it. I said some really shitty things to him. It’s over before it even really began.”

He should have called Owen back before he left the bathroom, he should have tried to fix this. But when he’d seen Owen at that table, the anger he felt had surprised him. Scared him. If that was how he’d feel once he committed himself to a real relationship, then maybe it wasn’t worth it. When things got tough, he bailed. He’d never regretted it before. So why did he want to throw up now? And why was this weird unsettling feeling making his chest tight?

“Go home. I’ll talk to Braxton,” Ace said.

Chad sighed. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry.”

He reached out his hand, and Ace shook it with a small smile. “You’re good people, Ace.”

“You are, too, Rod.”

Chad managed a weak smile before he walked past Ace and out the door.

…

He slept in on Sunday and finally hauled his ass out of bed close to noon. Thinking about the previous night only caused a riot of conflicting emotions, so he told himself not to think about it at all. That always worked before.

Except something told him that ignoring this would be the biggest regret of his life.

There was a knock on his door while he sat on his couch in sweatpants, playing Aric’s Revenge. He glanced at the clock, blinking until his brain registered it was five in the evening. At least he’d showered the night before when he got home, but he knew he still looked like shit.

He considered not answering it until a voice cut through the door. “Your bike is out there, I know you’re home. Let me in, dickhead.”

He swung open the door and glared.

Marley wore a pair of yoga pants, sneakers, and an oversize workout shirt. Her hair was piled on top of her head in a messy knot. Chad raised his eyebrows. “Pretending to work out again?”

“Shut up. I was going to go, but then I saw there was a sale at your favorite deli, so I got us sandwiches.” She held up a paper bag with a grin.

He rolled his eyes. “You had no intention of working out. You just like matching workout clothes.”