Happy (16 page)

him in closer, until they were almost chest to chest, their bodies occasionally

brushing as the carriage swayed on the tracks. Louie’s fingers overlapped

his on the pole they clung to, and with all the little explosions suddenly

going off in his stomach, Peter felt like he’d swallowed a handful of Pop

Rocks. His heart thundered in his ears. Just when he thought it was about

to jump out of his chest, his eyes locked with Louie’s—wide, dark, and

slightly dazed—and he knew he wasn’t the only one feeling this.

It was the same electric pull that had snared him the other night, only

stronger. He couldn’t stop looking, not even when Louie’s eyes skittered

away and the slightest tinge of pink swept up his cheekbones. He bit his

lower lip and Peter wanted to moan. Wanted to lean in and touch his lips to

Louie’s. Boldly, his hand slipped a fraction lower, from the platonic safety

of Louie’s lower back to just above the flare of his ass. Louie’s swift intake

of breath made Peter’s heart soar. What if he went further? Would Louie let

him? His groin pulsed. He felt safe and anonymous in the crowded car—

there was barely enough room to breathe, let alone for anyone to see what

he was doing.

The train shuddered to a halt in the tunnel, sending Louie stumbling fully

against him. He clutched the front of Peter’s shirt to stabilize himself. He was

slow to let go, and when he did, it was only to drag his palm down Peter’s chest.

His fingers came to rest at Peter’s belt, curling into his belt loop. The backs of

his knuckles pressed into Peter’s stomach and he stopped breathing.

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“Sorry folks” came a voice over the crackling loud speaker. “There’s a

mechanical problem on the train ahead. We’ll be holding here for a minute.

We apologize for the inconvenience.”

The sardine-packed passengers groaned in unison. Peter suppressed a

grin. Best night ever.

He felt the whisper of Louie’s chuckle against his neck as he ducked

his head. “Shit,” he thought he heard him say.

The train started up with a jerk. Peter slammed against Louie with

a grunt of surprise. This time Louie let his hand linger on Peter’s waist.

Their lower bodies pressed together briefly, time enough for Peter to feel the

unmistakable bulge of Louie’s erection. He was hard.

Elation made him bold.
Louie wanted him.

When Louie’s gaze flew to his face, silently questioning, Peter met his

eyes confidently, daringly, the hint of danger making his heart pound. This

time he wouldn’t hide. He shifted a fraction, letting Louie feel his arousal.

Louie’s nostrils flared in response. He swayed slightly, deliberately;

the slight brush of his hips made Peter suck in a breath. His arm tightened

around Louie’s back, holding him in place. Peter’s surroundings, the crush

of people packed in around them, disappeared. There was only the heat of

Louie’s body, the warm cloud of his breath, and the flickers of electricity

racing over Peter’s skin.

“I think this is where we get off, Peter,” Louie said, his lips mere

inches away from Peter’s.

Yes, get off.
He so wanted that. He nodded, his fingers tightening on

the curve of Louie’s ass.

Louie clutched his shirtfront and gave him a shove. “I mean it, Peter.

This is our stop.”

“Huh?” Peter found himself bodily dragged off the train and onto the

platform seconds before the doors closed behind them.

They stood there, staring at each other as the train whisked out of

the station. The air still crackled with awareness, but it was fading now as

reason set in.
What now?
Peter wasn’t sure how to proceed from here. This

wasn’t how he had envisaged coming clean.

As he watched, a sweep of panic stole across Louie’s face. That

couldn’t be good. What was he thinking?

Peter took a step forward, ready to explain. To his surprise, Louie

turned and walked away before he could utter a word.

TEN

He was on a date—
a real date
—with his sister’s boyfriend.

Louie’s heart thundered in his ears as he stormed out of the subway

station, Peter on his heels. The realization had hit him hard. His body tingled

with the need to drag Peter home and up to his bedroom, while his mind

screamed at him to run while he still could.

After movie night, Louie had spent a lot of time convincing himself

things hadn’t happened the way he imagined they had. That half of it was in

his head, and the other half… well, they’d both had a couple of beers that

night. Still, he hadn’t been able to stay away. Tonight had been its own kind

of torture, though. In the end, he had followed Peter’s lead, resolving to act

like an adult and ignore it for the sake of the friendship—because he really

wanted to keep that friendship.

A mutual grope on the subway was a lot harder to ignore. Who had

started it? Him? Peter? Did it matter? They’d both been turned on. Right

now, Louie didn’t know who to be angrier at—himself for asking Peter out

tonight when he knew he had feelings for the man, or Peter for messing

things up.

It all seemed so obvious now—the flirtatious texts, the late-night visit,

the touching. Why hadn’t he seen it before?

Because Peter was supposed to be straight and dating Demetra—

that’s why.

One thing was for sure, Peter hadn’t seemed the least bit shocked or

surprised or uncertain by any of it.

“Louie?” Peter’s voice cut through his thoughts.

“Yeah?” Louie kept walking. He and Peter were the only ones on the

street, and the sharp strike of Louie’s heels on the sidewalk echoed loudly.

“Shouldn’t we maybe… talk? About… that.”

Talk? Louie didn’t want to hear Peter make excuses. He’d already

heard so many of them from Aaron:
I’m not sure what I want
;
I’m attracted

to you
,
but
….

“You’re angry,” Peter exclaimed after another moment of silence.

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“Yes, I’m angry,” Louie snapped as he turned the corner onto his

block. Only a few more houses to go.

“Because of what happened?”

Because I don’t know how to deal with what happened
, Louie wanted

to shout. He stopped and finally swung around to face Peter. “Have you

forgotten you’re dating my sister?”

Peter blew out a breath. “No—”

“Then there’s not a lot to say.”

“I—okay, I know things seem a bit… complicated.”

“
Complicated
?”

“But I can explain—”

“Dammit, Peter. I don’t want to hear it. Why’d you have to ruin

everything?”

Louie gave Peter’s chest a shove, and Peter used the opportunity to

grab him by the arms, pulling him in close until all that separated them was

a few inches.

The heat from Peter’s body seared him. Peter’s breath dusted his lips

and Louie’s heart jumped to his throat. Was Peter going to kiss him?

Then a flash of movement in the corner of his eye made Louie turn his

head. The lights were on across the street in Mr. Kotsopoulos’s house, and

a shadow stood at the bay window—watching. Peter must have seen it too

because he released Louie and took a step back. It was like being doused

with a bucket of cold water.

“Can’t we go somewhere and talk?” Peter pleaded softly.

Louie fought the urge to give in. If he went anywhere with Peter right

now, he was likely to end up in bed with him. And that would only make

things worse. “I can’t. Not now, anyway. Good night, Peter.”

“Louie….”

Louie ignored Peter’s plea, managing to hold his head high as he

walked the few feet to his house and climbed the front steps. Inside, he

pushed the stubborn wooden door closed, blotting out his last sight of

Peter’s silhouette on the sidewalk. He slumped back against the door with a

sigh. “Shit,” he told the empty foyer.

“Bad date?”

Louie jumped at the sound of Demetra’s voice. She stood at the top of

the stairs looking down at him. Heat surged into his cheeks.

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“You could say that,” he replied evasively, although it hadn’t been bad

at all, at least up to the point he realized he was actually on a date. Louie

tossed his keys onto the credenza, next to Demetra’s purse.

He couldn’t forget the warmth of Peter’s hand on the small of his back

as they rode home on the train, that unmistakable hardness against his hip,

and the soft look in Peter’s eyes as Louie stared into them.
Peter wanted

him.
The burst of pleasure in his chest was swiftly followed by a flood of

guilt and then anger.

Now he was trapped by his own belief in honesty, with this secret

pushing at his throat. He should tell Demetra, shouldn’t he? But what would

he say? Your boyfriend got a big fat chubby for me? Zelda saved him from

making that decision, rubbing up against his legs with an irritated meow.

“Didn’t you feed her?”

“She’s your cat,” Demetra pointed out. “Besides, I only just got in myself.”

Zelda bumped his shin with her head, making Louie chuckle. “Okay,

okay. I get it.” He toed off his shoes and headed to the kitchen, Zelda

underfoot. Somewhere, a cell phone that wasn’t his rang.

Louie opened a can of cat food and filled Zelda’s dish. She attacked

it as if it had been days since she had last eaten. He watched her, bemused.

“What should I do, Zelda?”

She didn’t answer, of course. He was on his own.

Was Peter gay? Bi? If so, didn’t Demetra deserve to know what she

was getting into?

Louie’s chest tightened as he rinsed the cat-food spoon in the sink. Had

he done the right thing? Maybe he should have heard what Peter had to say.

Wasn’t
he
the one who had asked Peter out tonight in the first place? And there

was the problem. Louie didn’t trust himself. What if Peter was no different

from Aaron—the subterfuge, the deceit? He wanted no part of that. Yet even

as Louie thought it, a small, stubborn part of him refused to believe it.

The part of him that wanted Peter for himself.

Demetra entered the kitchen, scowling at the cell phone in her hand.

“Have you talked to Peter lately?”

Louie froze. “Uh, yeah. Why? Was that him?” The fucker. Not half an

hour ago, Peter was practically groping Louie’s ass and now he was calling Dee

wanting a late-night booty call? Or was he calling to confess? Oh shit, what

if Peter told Demetra and she blamed him for the end of her relationship? His

head hurt thinking about it; he was trapped in a web of lies.

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Demetra cocked her head and studied him. “Does Peter ever

mention me?”

“How do you mean?”

“Like, our relationship?”

It took all Louie’s willpower to keep his expression neutral. “I thought

you said everything was fine.”

“It is. It is.” Her smile was stiff. “But I’m not sure he feels the same

way I do anymore. I get the feeling he might be thinking of ending it.”

She sensed that?
“Maybe it’s for the best, then. I mean if things aren’t

working out….”

“Just whose side are you on?” Demetra demanded with narrowed

eyes. “I’m going to bed.”

Whose side, indeed? Louie’s knees wobbled as she left the kitchen.

The safest thing would be to put some distance between himself and Peter.

He’d show Peter he couldn’t mess with people like that. He’d learned his

lesson the first time around. He wasn’t about to have his heart broken a

second time.

A week later, Louie was dangerously close to caving. So far he’d managed

to avoid Peter in person, but that hadn’t stopped Peter from calling or texting.

Even when Louie didn’t respond.
Especially
when Louie didn’t respond.

Now his phone was full of funny jokes and videos that made him laugh

and kept threatening to evaporate his anger. It was as if Peter was working

overtime to make amends by being as sweet and charming as possible.

He couldn’t concentrate at work. His stomach was constantly in knots.

He was wracked with guilt whenever he looked at Demetra and more than

a little grateful she had been away most of the week on a business trip.

Despite all this, he
wanted
to see Peter again. He missed him. That’s when

he knew he was truly in trouble. He was falling for the man. And not just

in a “I want to jump your bones” way, but an “I want to come home to you

every night” way.

But what did he mean to Peter? Was this just an experiment for him?

Just physical? Did he get a kick out of torturing Louie and making him

crazy? Straight guys could be the biggest teases, but somehow he couldn’t

imagine the man he’d come to know doing that. Or was Peter more like

Aaron and Nick, wanting some excitement on the side with a casual fuck?

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And the fact that he wanted to know those answers had him on the

verge of breaking down. Last night he’d even lingered outside the restaurant