Page 92 of His Surrender
I trusted him.
I searched the crowd for a head of familiar blond hair. It was hard to miss Jay in a group. He stood out like a sore thumb. Especially that night. His black suit fit him like a glove, and I couldn’t wait to strip it off him later when we returned to the room.
I found him at the bar, sitting on a stool and throwing back a glass of something dark. Probably bourbon, his favorite. His hair was a bit disheveled, as if he’d run his fingers through it.
Or someone else had.
No. Don’t go there.He wouldn’t do that to me.
“Hey, you.” I slid onto the empty barstool beside him. His eyes had a strange, panicked look to them. “Are you okay?”
“I’m fine.” Jay lifted the glass back to his lips with a shaking hand. He finished it off and set it back on the bar with a light thump. His hand shot up to ruffle his hair.
“Liar.” I grabbed his hand, and my concern only grew when it continued to shake. “Tell me what’s wrong.”
He’d been fine before he’d gone to get us drinks. The night had been damn near close to perfect up until this point. Was that the problem? Had he started withdrawing from me again out of fear of commitment?
“I’ll have another,” Jay said to the bartender, motioning to his glass.
“How many have you had?” I asked.
“Not enough.”
“Goddammit, look at me.”
His gaze snapped to mine, and I could’ve sworn his pupils dilated a bit. “Yes, sir.”
Sir?
An ache burrowed into the center of my chest.
He was acting like he had the night I’d first tried to give him a blowjob. He’d trembled and had a wild look in his eyes. The emerald eyes I adored had lost their light, as if that light had been shoved down and subdued.
Jay lowered his gaze and stayed that way, hands on his lap. He seemed overly compliant, like he was waiting on his next command.
I made eye contact with the bartender and shook my head. “He’s had enough. I’ll pay his tab.” I pulled my debit card from my wallet and handed it over. Meanwhile, Jay remained still. Eerily so.
Oh, my beautiful Jay. What happened to you?
When I touched his shoulder, he jolted and glanced up. The panicked expression returned, and it felt like I’d been punched in the gut. My eyes watered as I stood from the barstool and guided him off his. He stumbled into me, smelling of liquor. He must’ve downed the drinks quickly for him to already be so tipsy. He’d had three cocktails prior to that, so I guess it had all hit him at once.
“Is he okay?” a man asked. He had short blond hair with streaks of gray, blue eyes, and a young man with dark, curly hair hung off his arm.
“Yes,” I answered, even though I didn’t know for sure.
Jay focused on the man. A low whine escaped his slightly parted lips. “I’m not your boy anymore,” he slurred as tears filled his green eyes. “I’m a better man now. I don’t belong to you!”
What was he talking about?
“Excuse us,” I said to the man before guiding Jay toward the exit.
“I’m a better man now,” Jay repeated as a tear slipped from the corner of his eye.
“Yes, you are.” I didn’t know where his mind was at, but it had to be somewhere dark.
He put more of his weight on me, and due to our height difference and the fact he had at least thirty pounds on me, I struggled a bit on the way through the lobby and toward the elevator. Once we made it to the room, I rifled through his pocket for the key card and let us in. I sat him on the couch, and he leaned back, scrubbing his hands over his face.
“I need another drink.”
