Page 89 of Out of the Storm

“Did you hear something?” Jeff asked Gary, and Brandon shoved him lightly from behind in response. Jeff looked back over his shoulder. “Dick.”

After the bartender returned with their drinks, the three of them claimed a pool table. Brandon and Jeff played while Gary watched. In the course of an hour, Gary not only finished his first-ever whiskey sour but also ordered a second one. Jeff couldn’t really understand why. Gary kept making a weird face every single time he took a sip, like he just couldn’t get used to the taste. Maybe he just wanted to fit in? Jeff hoped that wasn’t the reason, but he didn’t know what else to think.

Shortly after Gary finished his second cocktail, Jeff chugged the last of his beer, which had become lukewarm and therefore tasted like ass (and not in a pleasant way). Since it was Brandon’s turn at pool and Jeff didn’t trust Gary’s lack of sobriety, Jeff volunteered to take their empty glasses to the bar counter. He gathered them up, headed over to the bar, and set them at an empty spot on the counter for the bartender. Then he turned to start back toward the pool table, thinking to himself how the outing had been going surprisingly well.

And just as the thought formed in his head, he spotted a familiar black-and-orange letterman jacket out of the corner of his eye, and his stomach sank to the floor.

Don.

God, how could hestillbe wearing that? After so many years?

The sounds of conversation fell away, and soon the only thing Jeff could hear was the whooshing of blood past his eardrums as his heart thundered in his chest. Don saw him almost right away, almost like he’d already known Jeff was there or like... he’d been watching Jeff for a while. Then Don’s eyes narrowed, and a smirk settled across his face as he started in Jeff’s direction. In seconds, hishulking six-foot-and-change frame was looming over Jeff, making him feel small and weak and pathetic. Jeff went rigid.

Folding his arms over his chest, Don looked Jeff up and down and then licked his lips like a wolf eyeing its prey. Fear rolled through Jeff’s body, making him shudder, and it took everything he had to try to hide his reaction to Don’s icy stare.

“New boyfriend?” Don asked, nodding in Gary’s direction. “Isn’t he from WKBR?”

But Jeff couldn’t make himself respond, not even with a nod.

“He is, isn’t he? I recognize that voice of his. Niles, right? I can pick up the station in my truck sometimes.”

Colorful spots started to form in front of Jeff’s eyes.

Still, he said nothing.

“What, are you scared of me now?” Don asked. After a couple more seconds of Jeff’s complete inability to form words, one side of Don’s mouth curled up into a smirk. “Jesus Christ. Don’t worry, sweetheart. I’m over you.”

Don started toward the restrooms, intentionally clipping Jeff with his shoulder when he walked past, and the force made Jeff stumble back a step. He was still standing there, frozen like a fucking idiot, when Gary came over.

“Are you coming back to play? I tried to take over for you, but I have to say, I’m a pretty terrible pool player. Almost sunk the eight ball on my first shot!”

Now that Don wasn’t near him, Jeff couldn’t hold in his upset anymore. He started to tremble. Without yet having responded to Gary, Jeff looked at his now-shaking hands and squeezed them into fists. Fuck.

Finally, he managed a soft, “Gare, we need to leave.”

“What happened?” Gary asked.

Brandon came over. “Hey, whoa, was that Don Juan?”

“Yeah,” Jeff said, his voice distant and detached.

“Well, shit, let’s leave then. I won’t be able to stand looking at his stupid face.” Brandon heaved a sigh. “Fuck, Jeff, I’m sorry. I’ve really never seen him in here before.”

Gary placed a hand on the small of Jeff’s back. “Don’s the man you were talking to?”

“Yeah.”

Gary started moving his hand in small circles, and it helped ease some of the tension from Jeff’s body, though the moment he unclenched his fists, his hands began to shake again.

Jeff kind of wanted to say that he couldn’t drive, but, fuck, he was the only one who hadn’t had too much alcohol. He’d have to manage. Somehow.

“Let’s head out,” he said instead, though he only forced himself to move when Gary’s hand pressed a little stronger into his back.

By some miracle, Jeff was able to get Brandon home safely. Halfway there, his hands had stopped trembling, though it still felt like his insides were buzzing, every nerve in his body frayed like a busted telephone wire.

He took the long way back to Niles. Upset continued to hum beneath his skin.

Somehow, he managed to hold himself together the entire way. Until he and Gary were inside.

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