Page 78 of Flare

He grinned slyly. “I already did. And you owe me ten bucks. I sold one of those sexy linen jackets we only put out yesterday.”

“Dammit.” I fished in my pocket and came up empty. “Well, look at that. Consider it payment for the murtabak.”

He narrowed his gaze. “Slippery fucker.”

* * *

Beck

“I was a dick about Drew, wasn’t I?” Jack dropped the question into the silence of the car with Little Feat singing “Two Trains” in the background and about fifteen minutes before we hit the prison parking lot.

“Maybe, a bit. But I’m thinking I was too. Guess we both have some apologising to do.”

“Yeah, Rhys was only giving me a break back then, Uncle Beck. Maybe fucking up is genetic.”

I snorted. “Language.” I kept my eyes on the road as big fat raindrops splatted on the windscreen, the sky streaked with watery sunshine. Crazy fucking weather. I reached over and ruffled Jack’s hair, knowing it would piss him off. “Do you wanna talk about it?”

“Maybe.” He shoved my hand away, still juggling his phone in his hand. “But Rhys was right. I need to pull my head out of my arse. You shouldn’t have gone off on him.”

“I know.” I should’ve kept my big fucking mouth shut. Rhys clearly had it handled, better than me in all likelihood.

“Do you know people transitioning, Uncle Beck?”

I nodded. “There are a couple of lecturers at the university and a few students who are open about it.”

“Drew talked to me about it a couple of weeks after I started. Not thefirsttime I asked, obviously.” He grimaced. “Then, he pretty much told me to fuck off.”

I bit back a smile.

“But after we got to know each other a bit better, he eventually talked about it. I didn’t know the rest of it though, about his family and stuff.”

“And what didyousay when he told you?”

“That it was cool.” He sent me a questioning glance.

“You did good. You know Drew’s hurting right now?”

Jack nodded and held up his phone. “We’ve been texting. He said someone from Rainbow House is going to speak to his parents, but Drew doesn’t think it’ll do any good. And since he can legally leave home if he wants to, there’s not much anyone can do. Who does that to their kid?”

Who indeed?Jack went quiet and I could only guess what was running through his brain. You could screw with your kid’s life in lots of ways, as Jack knew only too well.

“So maybe take care what you text in case his parents read his phone. It might be better to call.”

Jack’s face paled. “Shit. I never even thought...” He checked his phone and fired off another text. “I told him to delete the convo. He said he already had and his backup is off.” He was silent for the next few minutes until the gates of the prison loomed. “He’s a good friend.”

“Then be one back.” I steered the BMW into a parking space and cut the engine thinking I needed to take my own advice. I saw lots of apologies in my future.

CHAPTERSIXTEEN

Rhys

Ten daysand too many filthy kisses to count later, and Beck and I were bubbling along very nicely, thank you. There was the hand job in one of the store’s dressing rooms after closing when Jack went to get pizza—Beck facing the wall, hands spread, and me jerking him from behind before unloading all over that big, beautiful arse. Then the cuffed blowjob in Beck’s office with me sitting on his desk atop a dog-eared copy of a nineteenth-century poet—sorry, Emily Dickinson, although, you know, the namewaskind of appropriate. And then a repeat performance in my flat, but this time with Beck kneeling on the offcuts of my half-worked new coat design, while the mannequin wearing it watched on with a strangely creepy expression.

Hot? Absolutely. Scary? Don’t even go there. But for all that we were happily ticking off that free-pass list, we were still taking it slow. Nearly four weeks together and Beck hadn’t even really touched me with his hands yet, not sexually. He was either cuffed or spread against the wall. But then I hadn’t suffered a panic attack either, so that had to be a win, right?

Right?

Half of me said yes. The other half set up an annoying mantra in my head that was hard to ignore.Beck might be enjoying it now, but how much longer will he wait? How much longer can you expect him to play along with your weird list of needs? How long till he just wants something normal, like everyone else?

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