Page 8 of Good Friends
Somewhere in this resort were Ivan and his hubby, and they were happily doing things Porter could easily imagine because he already knew what Ivan liked…and how he sounded and looked when giving and getting it.
And here I am, alone.
Gavin’s blue eyes came to mind, the last time they’d made love before he’d left for his new job in Costa Rica.
Why did I let him go?
Porter angrily shoved that thought away.
Before Gavin had signed the work contract, he’d even asked Porter if he really wanted him to do it, or if there was a reason for him to stay behind. Porter hadn’t wanted to hold him back and told him they could talk more when he returned from Costa Rica, but that he wanted Gavin to make the decision for himself, not for Porter.
I’m a fucking dumbass.
It was only a couple of weeks after Gavin had left that Porterfinallysuspected why Gavin had asked him that in the way he had. And still, since Gavin hadn’t brought it up again, Porter also stayed away from that topic during their Skype sessions, which grew less frequent over the months.
Before Gavin left for the job, they’d been exclusive for sex for more than six months leading up to that, although they would frequently play with others. Sometimes their work schedules didn’t line up right, and Porter would never deny Gavin the opportunity to scene with another Top. They hadn’t agreed to be exclusive, it’d just…happened. Not that Porter didn’t have opportunities to have sex with others during that time, because he had.
He’d just turned them all down, because he’d had Gavin.
He’d beenhappywith Gavin.
Hadn’t wanted anyone but Gavin.
Truth be told, it’d been nice having a sex partner he trusted, could go bare with and not worry about, and feel at total ease around.
Their agreement for their time apart had been they were free to see others, as long as they were safe. If one of them ended up with someone permanent, they’d admit it immediately.
Hell,Gavinhad been the one to bring up that stipulation! And when Porter had outright offered to remain exclusive, even while Gavin was gone, Gavin had told him no, that was okay.
In fact, Porter had mentioned Ivan to Gavin the next time they’d talked, just days after the encounter had happened, because they were honest with each other. Porter had sort of been hopeful something long-term might develop with Ivan, and he didn’t want to just drop it on Gavin out of the blue if that happened.
Hell, Porter had swallowed back his own jealousy when Gavin told him about seeing someone for a couple of weeks not long after that, until it apparently fizzled out. He was always honest with Gavin if he played with someone, or fooled around with them, although it did seem like Gavin rarely mentioned anyone beyond friends. The only guy Porter had fucked since Gavin left was Ivan, although he’d received several blowjobs from guys he’d played with.
Gavin had been in Costa-fucking-Rica, though. Not exactly the most hospitable of places for an openly gay man to go trolling for dates. Not to mention, Gavin was a fucking workaholic that put himself to shame. Gavin had wanted to put money in the bank to build up his savings and maybe make enough for a down payment on a house. The helicopter tour company that hired him had been willing to pay him top-dollar, in addition to living expenses, to sign a twelve-month employment contract with them, with an option to extend it if Gavin wanted to. It’d been a great opportunity for Gavin to make some serious bank. Damn sure more money than he could make there in Lakeland. He totally got why Gavin wanted to take the job.
Porter grabbed his phone and angrily scrolled through his alerts, not seeing anything from Gavin. Then onto Facebook, where he stalked Gavin’s profile.
No new posts. Gavin hadn’t posted anything in over two weeks, and in the last four months, the only things he’d posted were landscapes, sunrises, and sunsets.
They had a bunch of friends in common, and Gavin usually liked their posts. But he hadn’t done that lately, either.
No activity on Twitter or Instagram, either, although Gavin rarely posted anything through those accounts.
I shouldn’t let it bother me.
But it bothered him. Because it felt like there was somethingtherehe was missing, somethingdeeper.
He despised that feeling because the last time he ignored it someone he’d loved ended up dead.
* * * *
By eight a.m., it was obvious to Porter that he wasn’t going back to sleep. Now grumpy and sleep-deprived on top of feeling aggravated, he pulled on a T-shirt and shorts, grabbed his wallet and phone, and headed downstairs to the hotel’s restaurant. He didn’t feel like leaving the property yet, but if his foul mood didn’t improve soon, he’d probably end up heading home early.
He settled at a table in the corner by himself and was perusing the menu when he realized someone was standing right next to him. He looked up into the hazel eyes, wide smile, and frosted bottle-blond tips of Jayce Dugger.
“Hey,” Jayce said. “Great to see you here. I saw on Facebook you’d marked yourself as going this weekend. Looked around for you last night, but didn’t see you.”
“I was tired,” Porter said, sitting back in his chair. “Called it an early night.” He’d also been avoiding the fucker ever since catching a glimpse of him yesterday afternoon not long after Porter had checked in.
