Page 1 of Full Split
PROLOGUE - WYATT
Neon light dances across the tan leather interior of my car as I idle outside the bar, squinting through the windshield at the chaotic scene outside. The huge neon sign flashes in pinks and blues, music thumps from inside, and lights pulse in time with the bass. People spill out onto the sidewalk, dressed in all manner of outfits, from simple jeans and t-shirts to full glitter ensembles and tight leather harnesses. They're living their best lives, laughing, yelling, smoking, and dancing to the music that filters outside. It's definitely a different vibe than our sleepy small town on the outskirts of the city, where nightlife is non-existent outside of the one small bar that stays open until 11PM.
Shifting into park, I shoot off a quick text.
ME: Here. Out front.
The message is marked as read almost immediately, but there's no response. A minute later, the bar door swings open, and Niles steps out. He sees my car, then looks over his shoulder and makes a face, quickening his steps and practically runningacross the sidewalk to get to me. His outfit makes my throat go dry. His tight black jeans might as well be painted on, paired with an almost see-through white mesh shirt. The fabric clings to his skin, so transparent that the faint outline of surgical scars can be seen through the material. I can make out every defined muscle on his trim body.
I don't know what I expected when Weston asked me to pick Niles up, but this… this wasn't it. It's a sharp reminder that my son and his best friend aren't kids anymore. They're grown men, with lives that exist outside of my understanding or control. Otherwise, I wouldn’t be here picking Niles up outside a bar, saving him from an apparent date gone wrong.
Niles yanks open the passenger door and flings himself inside, slamming the door harder than necessary. I shift into drive just as the bar door bursts open again. Before I can pull away from the curb, a man comes out, looking around with a confused expression. His eyes find Niles and his expression twists, face red and angry. He throws his arms up and yells something, waving his arms like he expects me to stop the car, which I don't. In the rearview mirror, the man gestures angrily, mouthing expletives like they might catch Niles' attention and lure him back. Niles isn't even looking. He's watching me instead, cheeks pink with exertion, or perhaps embarrassment.
"What areyoudoing here?"
My eyebrow raises. "West said you needed a ride, and he was too far away to get to you quickly enough."
"So he sent you?"
"Is that a problem?" I look pointedly at the seatbelt Niles is still holding, and he buckles it before we turn onto the main road leading out of the city.
"No, I—It's fine," he stammers. "Thanks for coming. I appreciate it."
"What was that about?" I ask after several tense moments of silence.
"Just a bad date."
"Bad enough to call for backup?"
"It wasn't really an emergency or anything. I would have called a rideshare if West had told me he was busy. But yeah, I didn't want to hang around."
"What happened?" I ask, ready to turn the car around and kick the dude's ass if I have to. Not that Niles needs me to defend his honor. But I would.
"Nothing too exciting. It was just a bad hookup. It happens."
A bad hookup.The casual way he says it makes something uneasy settle in my chest.
"Was that guy who followed you your date?” My brow furrows, although I try to maintain a calm demeanor. “He looked, uh…older."
Niles shrugs, arms crossing tight over his chest. "And?"
My mouth turns down at the corners.I absolutely don’t want him to think I’m judging him. But that guy looked my age, maybe older.
"Just surprised. That's all."
He mutters something I don't catch.
"What was that?"
Turning his body slightly towards me, he twists his lips, possibly trying to decide if he should tell me anything. "I said, it's your fault." His voice is louder and laced with sarcasm and something else… He’s teasing me, but I’m not quite sure I understand why. All I know is it makes my heartrate pick up.
My hands tighten on the wheel. "Come again?"
Niles snorts a little and turns fully towards me, legs pulled up on the seat, one hand supporting his head like we're having a casual, late-night chat and not whatever this is. His smirk is wicked.
"I like older men," he says, shrugging. "And I was just pointing out that it's your fault."
“Why the hell would that be my fault?”
