Page 6 of Need Him
Preston waved his hand. “No, go find what you need. I’m good on my own.”
“Nope, not happening.” He turned back to the bartender and handed him the paper and his credit card. “When we’re too drunk to stand, could you please get us a taxi back to this address?” He scooted himself onto a stool beside Preston.
“Not a problem.” The bartender shoved the paper in his pocket as he slid two glasses of whiskey in front of them. “Bottoms up, gents.”
Gareth clinked his glass against Preston’s. “To forgetting.”
“Shit yes.”
They swallowed the liquid and slammed the glasses back down. Gareth had wanted to play that night, but his friend was hurting, and he would prefer to take care of him than have another empty hookup. The bartender returned his card and fixed them another drink.
“Do you want to talk about it?” Gareth asked Preston.
Preston remained quiet for a moment, then said, “Not really, but it’s the least I can do when you didn’t even know about the relationship.”
Gareth didn’t push. Words would come when he could say them, not before. When their next drink arrived, Gareth sipped it instead of guzzling it, staring at the brown liquid as he swirled it in the glass. For some reason, an image of Ben flickered through his head. The man needed to loosen up. A lot.
“As the movie script would have it, we worked late one night at the office, and one thing led to another. I honestly thought he was gay and single because there had been nothing to say otherwise.” Preston swallowed another gulp. “We didn’t advertise our relationship because, although the company doesn’t stop inter-office relationships, they also don’t push them. I was fine with not announcing us. I knew we would at some point, but it wasn’t urgent for me.”
Gareth wanted to punch the asshole. What was the point of keeping Preston on the side? Other than the sexual kind.
“He called a meeting this morning as soon as he came into the office. Everyone was surprised because he’d always refused to do a meeting on a Friday when employees were tired and waiting for the weekend.” Preston huffed a laugh. “Barely eight hours after the last time we slept together, he had his arm around his girlfriend—fiancée—making the announcement.”
“It’s his loss, Preston. I know it doesn’t feel like it now, but soon, you’ll forget about the heartbreak and find someone else.” He squeezed his shoulder.
“I know.” The tone in his friend’s voice showed exactly how much he agreed.
Two hours later, the bouncer bundled them into a taxi, which deposited them on Gareth’s doorstep. Gareth wasn’t as drunk as he expected to be, but the floor seemed to go full tilt-a-whirl on him when he tried to put the key in the door. Once he’d dragged Preston up the stairs and into the spare room, he was exhausted. He removed Preston’s clothes, leaving his boxers in place, and tucked him under the covers. A glass of water and paracetamol on Preston’s bedside table was the last thing Gareth did before heading for his room. He stripped and ducked under the shower spray, hoping to keep the nausea at bay. He swallowed paracetamol once he’d finished and dragged himself to bed.
As he lay on his back, Ben’s face swam to the forefront of his mind again. What was it about the guy that had caught Gareth’s attention? It wasn’t like they had anything in common except where they worked. Ben was a workaholic—anyone could see that—and Gareth did what he needed to do and went home. The man barely smiled, and Gareth laughed enough for the both of them. From what Gareth could discern from the quiet murmurings at work, Ben was strict but fair. Gareth was strict, but only when it came to his boy.
He rubbed a hand over his face. He needed to stop thinking about him and create a plan of action to find a boy for himself. Maybe he needed to look further afield. Not long-distance or anything, but a short drive would be fine if he could find what he was looking for.
With that idea planted, he drifted off and jerked awake when a crash sounded, followed by curses.
Gareth laid a hand over his chest and calmed his heart before checking his clock and realising he’d been asleep for several hours. He dragged some joggers on and descended the stairs. When he entered the kitchen, Preston was standing barefoot amidst a spray of shattered glass.
“Stay where you are,” Gareth said immediately. He jogged to the front door, slipping his bare feet into his shoes and grabbing Preston’s, and returned to the kitchen.
“Sorry.”
Gareth waved him away, handing over the shoes. “Don’t be sorry. Just don’t move. I don’t want you to cut your feet.”
He retrieved a brush from the cupboard under the stairs and swept the glass to the side of the room. Preston stayed where he was until Gareth told him it was clear, then he shoved his feet into his shoes and sank into a chair, cradling his head in his hands.
“Coffee?” Gareth asked.
“Please.”
Silence descended between them while the kettle boiled. Gareth made the coffee in silence and placed the cup in front of Preston. He dropped into the seat next to him.
“How’s your head?” he whispered.
Preston removed one hand and tilted it back and forth before cradling his cup.
Surprisingly, Gareth’s head was fine. He had taken it easier than usual because of Preston’s bombshell, but even then, he’d normally have a raging headache. Maybe he was still drunk. As they sat there in silence, Gareth thought through Preston’s predicament. Was his boss going to expect them to carry on as they had been? Were they over and done and on to pretend nothing had happened? Could Preston continue working for him with everything that had gone on?
All questions he couldn’t answer but wished he could.
