Page 9 of Small City Heart
“Any chance I can talk you out of that?”
Charlie let the door close behind him and walked a few steps forward to lean against a wooden column.
“I wanted to get a picture of the sunset.” Patrick patted the black camera bag at his side. He’d brought it because it was his security blanket, but he hadn’t expected to use it.
“I’ll go with you.”
Patrick shook his head. He couldn’t let Charlie do that. He was evidently the organizer of this ridiculous party. It would look bad if he abandoned it to Patrick’s sunset whims.
Patrick had found a better subject anyway. “Can I take your picture? Like that? You don’t have to move.” In fact, Patrick didn’t want him to move a muscle.
“Anything for you.” Charlie’s small smile melted something in Patrick’s chest, and he rushed to get his camera out of his bag.
In five seconds flat, he had it pointed at Charlie, who went unnaturally still.
“Should I smile?”
“No. I prefer that constipated expression you’re rocking.”
Charlie laughed, his head tipping to the side perfectly, and energy buzzed in Patrick’s veins as he snapped his shot.Magic.
His nerves had shifted to small pulses of excitement. He put his camera away and gestured to the door. “After you.”
Following Charlie up the stairs to Minky’s second floor was its own kind of torture. His juicy ass was right there, and Patrick would be lying if he said he wasn’t interested in taking a bite as bad an idea as that was.
And itwasthe worst idea ever. Finding out Charlie was gay had been a shock. Finding out he wanted to flirt with Patrick, had thought about Patrick throughout the last ten years, was inconceivable. It all felt unreal, like a dream. Or a bad comedy. He’d find out soon if he was in on the joke or the butt of it.
They crested the top of the stairs and Patrick’s nerves rushed back in. There were thirty to forty people in the big room, milling around tables and the private bar.
The room was dark with a lot of nooks and crannies, a stage on the north end, small windows on the west side overlooking the parking lot, and four pool tables on the south. Circular tables filled the space in front of the stage, and he searched desperately for a friendly face.
He jumped when Charlie placed a hand on the small of his back and leaned in to whisper in his ear.
“Suzy’s at the bar, but she’s sitting at the middle table there.”
“Okay. Thank you.”
They walked together to the table, and Patrick plopped down. He jumped again when Charlie touched his shoulder to get his attention.
“What do you want to drink?”
“What are you having?”
The edges of Charlie’s perfect Hollywood smile curled up ruefully. “Sweet tea.”
“Yuck. Don’t let my mom hear that. She would revoke your Kansan card. I’ll take an Arnold Palmer if they have lemonade. If not, iced tea.”
“Unsweet?”
“Yes, unsweet, you heathen.”
A Black woman at the table laughed at their flirtation, and Patrick blushed. Charlie’s hand trailed off his shoulder in a caress as he turned to go to the bar.
“Hi,” Patrick said to the woman, a bit embarrassed. Now that he was facing her, a tiny thread of recognition swept his brain, but he was having trouble grasping it fully.
“Hi, Patrick.”
“I’m sorry. I’m bad at this. Remind me of your name? I should have studied up first.”
