Page 37 of New Year

Zack reached over to shake Sasha’s very firm grip. “You two obviously used to work together. It’s great to meet you, Sasha. Congratulations on the reopening.”

“Thanks.” Sasha finished garnishing a drink and passed it over to a customer. “What’re you two drinking?”

“If the house special is the same, then two Tim’s Teas,” Nat replied.

“Coming up!”

In less than sixty seconds, Sasha presented them with two Collins glasses full of ice and light brown liquid. Zack had watched her grab multiple bottles from the well, and then top it off with a squirt of cola, which suggested a variation on a Long Island Iced Tea. His first sip proved him correct. Very similar flavor profile with the rum slightly stronger in this recipe.

Nat held up his glass. “To friends and a fucking fantastic bar being open again.”

“Cheers.” Zack clinked his glass to Nat’s, and then took a longer drink. The alcohol content hit him on the second sip and warmed his empty stomach nicely. He hadn’t eaten in hours, and he might need to order an appetizer if the liquor hit him too hard. One of the reasons he’d used to enjoy throwing parties at his own home was so he could consume liquor and drugs to his heart’s content.

But he was no longer that man and never would be again. He still attended NA meetings once a week, mostly to remind himself of what he’d let himself become—excessive, indulgent, reckless. He did the work, so he could occasionally treat himself to a drink.

They moved away from the bar to allow other patrons room to order, and they ended up in an empty space between a full booth and a full table. Nat’s eyes glistened as he sipped his drink, emotions sneaking out without permission. Zack could picture Nat as a server here, moving fluidly between tables, delivering food and drinks to guests. Chatting and flirting and earning his tips. Being around people his own age.

Not someone nearly twice his age like Zack.

A handful of young men approached Nat, and Zack watched Nat for any signs of discomfort during those interactions. They all seemed to be patrons who remembered Nat as their server, and they were glad to see him again. A few mentioned working at Neighborhood Shindig and missing their usual late-night gathering spot. But when one guy mentioned being happy Nat had survived the explosion, Nat’s lips went flat, his smile strained.

Being back at ground zero of a serious trauma could not be easy for Nat, and Zack was only a third into his drink when Nat went to the bar for a second Tim’s Tea. The overall atmosphere was joyful and celebratory, and before Zack was halfway through his drink, a few center tables had been shoved aside to create a small dance floor.

Zack had never been a dancer, but after a few minutes, Nat’s hips began to sway. Nat was pretty deep into his third tea when someone pulled him into the dancing fray. Nat seemed to resist briefly, his bright, nearly-glassy eyes seeming to ask Zack for something.

Zack nodded.

Nat began to dance. His long, lean, sensual body moved with the music like a live wet dream, and Zack was entranced. Despite having a male partner close to his own age, Nat seemed to dance just for Zack.

He’s drunk. Don’t read into it. Keep him safe while he lets off steam.

Zack did his best, savoring the remnants of his only drink, while Nat indulged himself in innocent revelry. Tim’s wasn’t a night club. It was miles away from being a sex club. The dancing was fairly tame. But Zack also knew Nat had been through some shit, and Zack didn’t know what Nat’s mysterious ex looked like, so he had to remain watchful.

Not that Zack expected a man who’d manipulated Nat for possibly years to try anything in such a public place, but there was a first time for everything. And above all else, he needed Nat safe. So, he watched Nat dance as attentively as he watched everyone around him.

One of Nat’s partners bought him a shot, which Nat tossed back. The time inched toward closing, and Zack continued to watch. When one of the dancer’s hands strayed too close to no-touch zones, Zack waded into the group and pulled Nat out. Dancing was one thing; groping was a different beast entirely. Nat plastered his hot body against Zack’s, which made paying for their tab a bit of a challenge.

Sasha pinned Zack with atake care of him or elsestare while she ran his credit card. The bar capacity had thinned by the time they headed for the exit, so maneuvering outside wasn’t too difficult. Wrangling a listing, drunk Nat the few blocks to the parking lot took a bit more effort, and having Nat draped around him was not helping the side of Zack that kept insisting they were just friends. He felt too damned good.

Even so, Zack managed to get Nat strapped into the front passenger seat without incident, and then they were on their way home.

Home.

He couldn’t spend too much time expounding on that at two in the morning, but Zack loved the idea of going home with his…what? Non-date? Roommate with possible un-negotiated benefits? He had no idea. He was just going home with Nat. His Nat. His Natty Hawking.

Nat melted into the front seat, his head lolling in Zack’s direction. He started messing with the radio, searching stations until he found a song that Zack didn’t recognize at first. It wasn’t until Nat started singing along in a decent voice that Zack figured it out. “(Everything I Do) I Do It For You” from theRobin Hood: Prince of Thievessoundtrack. It surprised Zack that someone as young as Nat would know that song. It had been all over the radio when Zack was a kid, until the whole world seemed sick of it. Zack hadn’t heard it in years.

He loved Nat’s rendition the most.

Nat impressed him by staying awake the entire drive. He also tempted Zack a little too much by clinging hard while they walked from the car to the door. Nat didn’t paw at Zack or do anything overtly sexual; he was simplycloseandwarm. And so fucking sexy in those clothes. Zack got them inside, locked the door, and armed the alarm. Then he turned them both around and saw the obvious problem.

The sofa bed was still a sofa.

Zack could put Nat in the side chair and make up the bed. But that risked Nat falling asleep in the chair. Picking him up and putting him into the bed wouldn’t be too taxing, but why put forth the effort when the simplest solution also made the most sense? Zack led Nat into his bedroom, sat him down on the left side of the bed, and knelt to take off Nat’s shoes.

Nat giggled a few times. “This’s y’room.”

“Yeah, you’re going to sleep in here tonight. I’ll take the couch.”

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