The Broken Triangle (6 page)

“I’m right here.” Vin stroked Riley’s hair and the back of his neck. “You’re not rushing me, and it’s you I want, not just anyone available.”

“Promise?” Riley lifted his face and Vin felt sick at the sight of the uncertainty in his eyes.

“I promise.” Vin kissed him and smiled until Riley’s lips lifted in a tentative answering smile. “There. Now let me show you too. Okay? Can I do that?”

Riley nodded. God, he looked so vulnerable. He deserved to be loved. “Okay,” he said, and Vin set about proving to him how much he was wanted.

“Oh my God, would you stop already?” Vin said, exasperated by Patrick’s badgering.

“I can’t believe you let him leave,” Patrick said, not for the first time. “Your true love shows up, and you watched him drive away?”

Vin groaned and dropped his head onto the bar. “He had to go to work today,” he said. “I had to work today. This isn’t some fairy tale, for God’s sake. Real life actually exists.”

“La-la-la, can’t hear you.”

“Less yapping, more work.” Shane put a case of bottled beer on the bar with a thud that made the bottles clash, and gave them both a stern look. “Or I’ll dock your wages for the time you’ve wasted. That sound fair?”

“You don’t have a romantic bone in your body.” Patrick tossed his head, all drama, all queen. “I can still hear the violins playing.” He hummed a tune Vin didn’t recognize and took a few steps, twirling an imaginary partner in the confined space. The dance ended when he banged his elbow against a beer pump. “Ow! Fuck.”

“I’m glad you two got back together,” Shane said, addressing Vin and ignoring Patrick’s pained whimpers. “About time, if you ask me.”

It wasn’t worth correcting Shane’s assumption Vin and Riley had once been a couple. Vin settled for a smile that turned into a grin. The kiss he’d gotten when Riley left a few hours before had been bone-meltingly hot. “Yeah, it’s great. I’m seeing him tonight. That’s why I’m working the early shift; Diane swapped with me. She owed me after yesterday.”

“If she bails, I can do a double,” Patrick offered, still rubbing his elbow.

“Thanks.” It felt like forever since he’d seen Riley, and there were hours to go before he’d see him again. The thought of taking Riley out for a romantic dinner filled Vin’s head. His talk of real life not being a fairy tale had been an attempt to convince himself as much as Patrick. Vin was crazy, head-in-the-clouds in love. He understood now why people’s lives seemed to revolve around boyfriends and girlfriends and weddings. The romantic gestures he’d rolled his eyes over for years seemed understandable with Riley in his life.

“Were you thinking of putting those away anytime soon, or should I give you the day off without pay and be done with it?” Shane asked.

Vin realized he’d been standing there holding two beer bottles for way too long.

“Sorry,” he said.

“I know you are.” Shane’s eyes were kind in a way Vin hadn’t seen often. The last time had been the night Shelly came down with food poisoning and Shane had to pick her up off the bathroom floor and drive her home. “I get that you’re head over heels, but try to keep your mind on your work. If nothing else, the day will go faster.”

It was good advice, but though he pulled himself together enough to give the appearance of efficiency, Vin’s thoughts stayed stubbornly stuck on Riley. He had so many questions to ask him. They hadn’t talked much the night before, and there were five blank years to fill.

He’d swapped phone numbers with Riley, but he wasn’t sure where Riley lived. A loft apartment had been mentioned, but there were a few of those around, factory space gutted and converted into trendy living spaces. Way out of Vin’s price range, and something about them rubbed him the wrong way, like the shabby-chic, fake-distressed furniture one of his aunts went in for. He’d offered to rub down and paint a table for her, running his finger over the chips and cracked finish. She’d gaped at him for a moment, then laughed, telling him it was brand-new and she’d paid for it to look that way.

Tonight he’d be somewhere he couldn’t give in to that strong, insistent beat of arousal. They’d talk and get to know each other as adults, equals, the barriers that had seemed so impenetrable in high school thinned to nothing. Riley was still good-looking and popular, still from a rich family, but he’d come looking for Vin when he could’ve had anyone.

And how incredible was that?

Vin went through the next few hours in a daze until Patrick bumped a hip into him, jolting him out of his reverie. “Shane said—and this is a direct quote—you can push off and make yourself beautiful for lover boy. If you need help scrubbing your back, just whistle.”

“Do you ever stop flirting?”

“I’m like a shark. They stop swimming, they die.” Patrick shrugged, the faux-diamond stud in his left ear catching the light, as fake and sparkling as his charm. “I live to flirt and fuck. There something wrong with that?” He assumed a saintly look, casting his eyes down demurely. “You know I never sleep with anyone in a relationship. I do have
some
standards.”

“That would sound noble if you asked them if they were seeing someone before you pulled down their zipper.”

Patrick leered, losing his halo but still looking cute. “Hey, it’s a friendly fuck, not an interrogation. If they’re not honest and up front with me, that’s on them. And think about it. If I asked, they’d lie, so why spoil the moment?”

Irritated, Vin shook his head. Patrick usually amused him, but not today. He didn’t want smudges on his happiness, and Patrick was getting grubby fingerprints all over it. “Your logic is as screwed as you every Saturday night.”

“Hey, I resent that! I get screwed every night.” Patrick tapped Vin’s shoulder. “And sweetie? Leave the bitchiness to me. You truly suck at it.”

There were about a hundred different retorts Vin could have made, but the way Patrick was grating on him was throwing him off balance. It made him feel bad, it really did, because he loved Patrick. But he wasn’t sure how long Shane’s tolerance of his work being affected by Riley’s reappearance would last, so he figured he’d better take advantage of it now.

He’d texted Riley when he’d gotten confirmation Diane could take over his shift. The plan was that they were going to meet for dinner at seven at Isis. It was a restaurant usually reserved for swanky anniversary meals or people who made a hell of a lot more money than anyone Vin was friends with. He had decided after Riley suggested it that he would look on the opportunity as a chance to see how the other half lived. He was ready to play the part of someone who went places like that all the time, and he was going to enjoy it.

Vin took a quick shower, shaved, and put on his best clothes. Thank God his friends Devlin and Jeanie had gotten married earlier in the year and insisted they’d buy the wedding party’s clothes as a gift. His stint as a groomsman had earned him tailored dress slacks and a shirt he’d worried about spilling something on all night. He’d saved them as mementos of the special occasion, doubting he’d ever wear them again. Now he was grateful he had something suitable.

A quick glance in the mirror reassured him he looked okay, and he went out the back door and into the alley behind the Square Peg so he wouldn’t have to hear whatever everyone else had to say about how he looked. The drive across town to the restaurant had him fretting again. He hated that his van was so old, even though at that point he’d replaced almost everything that could break and he tried to think of it as a brand-new machine.

He parked a block away from the restaurant and checked his reflection in the mirror again out of sheer nervousness. The dragon earring that never left his ear, though the others he wore changed frequently, caught his eye. It seemed out of place somehow. Juvenile. He fingered it, the metal cool and the shape familiar. He loved dragons, enjoying any book that featured them as a child, even when the dragon was the laying-waste-to-the-neighborhood kind. They were magical, majestic, compelling. And they could fly, which would be his superpower of choice if anyone ever offered him one. He’d worked Riley’s initials into his dragon tattoo as a way of combining two of his favorite things, three if he counted getting tattooed itself.

Should he take the dangling earring out? He let his hand drop. No way. He wanted Riley to like the way he looked, but he wasn’t going to pretend to be someone different. It wasn’t his style and never had been. And why did he think Riley would want him to change? He resolved not to let insecurity ruin the night, but the walk to the restaurant was too short to calm him. His heart was beating uncomfortably fast, and he was sweating, the damp prickle defeating his antiperspirant.

“Vin! Hey, wait up.”

Vin spun around. A smiling Riley was walking toward him, raising a hand in greeting. His first thought was thankfulness that he wouldn’t have to walk into the restaurant alone, his second that he wanted to kiss Riley full on his smiling mouth.

He settled for an answering wave and, when Riley got closer, a grin. “Good timing.”

“Perfect,” Riley agreed, his gaze sweeping over Vin. “You look great. Wow.”

“Too much?”

“Black tie would’ve been too much. You’re just right.” Riley smiled. “We’re going to skip dessert, I can tell.”

With Riley’s mouth curved knowingly, Vin didn’t care if they skipped the whole meal. Riley had suggested going back to his place after they ate, and Vin knew what would happen as soon as the door closed behind them.

He plastered an inquiring look on his face. “The portions are that big?”

Riley snorted. “You know exactly why we’re skipping it.”

He gave Riley honesty in place of more teasing. “Yeah. Yeah, I do. That’s fine with me.”

“Cool. Come on. I want to show you how nice it is inside.” Riley had told Vin how he’d been to the restaurant a few times for his birthday meal with his parents, but that he’d always imagined going there on a date instead. Vin was more than happy to help fulfill his dream.

“Wow.” The understated elegance of the place made Vin lower his voice automatically. Everything was gleaming, from the wood floors to the wineglasses on the tables. The tablecloths were a rich shade of dark red, and the woman waiting at the hostess station was dressed in all black, her hair pulled back into a low ponytail and her teeth shockingly white when she smiled at them. Vin found himself wondering if it was a job requirement that employees had their teeth bleached.

“Hello, gentlemen. Welcome to Isis. Do you have a reservation?”

Vin felt a moment of panic, but Riley nodded. “We do. It should be under Wells.”

She glanced at her leather-bound book, running her finger down the entries. “Here it is. Let me show you to your table.”

Once settled and presented with menus by a waiter summoned by a subtle gesture from the hostess, Vin forgot his nerves. The menu had no prices, and half of the dishes contained ingredients he didn’t recognize or names he couldn’t pronounce with confidence, but Riley’s foot was nudging his under the table, reminding him of what was important.

“The food here is incredible.”

“It looks it.” Vin watched a waiter go by holding two plates of salad, the lettuce leaves airy, glistening with dressing. He scanned the menu. He’d been drooling over a hearts of romaine salad with coppa and shaved Grana Padano, served with a jalapeño emulsion.

Oh.

“I want to pay for this,” he blurted out.

Riley shook his head. “No way. I invited you, and I’m paying. I got a bonus last week, so this is a celebration.” Riley leaned forward, resting his elbows on the tablecloth. Vin’s mom would’ve told him off for that. “Double celebration because I get to share it with you. How about we ignore what wine goes with whatever we order and get champagne? Be rebels?”

“I don’t drink, but if you want to, sure.”

“You can have a glass with me at least,” Riley urged. “Come on, don’t be a killjoy.”

“I’m not. I never drink. I promise I’m just as much fun sober. And I’m driving anyway.”

He braced himself for Riley’s scorn or annoyance, not that he’d let it sway him, but after a long moment, Riley sighed. “You’re so different, Vin. Everyone I know, me included, gets drunk on a regular basis. Not you. Okay, how’s this? We get the most expensive sparkling water they have and pretend?”

“I love you.”

Riley stared at him, the blue of his eyes lost in the subdued lighting, the heat in them flaring bright. “And that’s different too.”

“I know I shouldn’t say it this soon. There are probably rules, like I’m supposed to wait a few months or something. There are probably rules for everything that I know nothing about. I’m gonna do this all wrong.”

Vin wished he could get himself to shut up, but he’d never managed it before now.

“Not wrong,” Riley said, shaking his head. “Different.”

“Different is sometimes bad.” Vin met Riley’s gaze steadily.

“It isn’t. It’s just different. And it’s a relief, finding out that how this dating thing works isn’t always going to be the same. I was starting to wonder.” Riley did look relieved; that made Vin feel better. “I really like you, if that’s enough.”

Which wasn’t the same as love, but it still made Vin feel warm with pleasure.

“It’s okay. You don’t have to say it back.”

Riley smiled. “I probably will. Give me a couple of weeks.” He seemed ready to continue the conversation, but their waiter came up to take their drinks orders, and by the time Riley had asked for sparkling water, Vin felt even more off balance.

“Sorry,” he said gruffly. “Not so good at this.”

“You’re fine. And I’ve never done this either, remember? We’re figuring it out together.”

“You’ve done it with girls. Lots of times.”

Riley exhaled, blowing out used air as if he were shedding a burden. “And I was faking it every second. Trying to fool myself it was working when it wasn’t. I’d kiss a girl and wait, you know? For the spark, the tingle, the heat. Never came. And mostly, neither did I.”

It was hard to keep the dryness from his voice when he remembered the swarm of girls hovering around Riley. “Mostly.”

“A blowjob with your eyes closed can do the trick.” Riley flushed, fiddling with his place setting, moving the cutlery an inch out of place, then back again. “It wasn’t what I needed.”