Page 4 of Unbound
"Speaking of," Jamie said, lowering her camera, "did you guys see one of them came in?"
That caught my attention. "What? Who?"
"Blonde guy," Jamie shrugged. "Looked like he was about to pass out from terror. Asked to use the bathroom."
"And Mack let him in?" I raised my eyebrows. Our bouncer was notoriously protective.
"Said the guy looked like he was about to piss himself," Diana explained. "Apparently, he was very polite about it."
"A polite bigot," Phoenix drawled. "How refreshing."
I drained my beer, suddenly curious. "I'm going to hit the bathroom. Back in five."
"Don't terrorize the poor homophobe if he's still in there," Diana called after me.
I flipped her off without looking back, weaving through the crowd with practiced ease. The music pulsed around me, bodies pressing close in the packed space. I nodded to familiar faces, slapped a few shoulders, declined two dance invitations. I had a mission now.
The bathroom hallway was quieter, the bass just a dull thud against the walls. I pushed the door open and—well, hello there.
He stood at the sink, staring at himself in the mirror with the haunted expression of someone who'd just seen a ghost. Tall, blonde, all-American good looks straight from a recruitment poster. The kind of guy who probably said "sir" and "ma'am" unironically. And wearing a fucking church lanyard around his neck.
I couldn't have designed a more perfect specimen of repression if I'd tried.
He startled when the door opened, eyes darting to mine in the mirror. The fear there was so naked, so raw, it almost made me take a step back. Almost.
Instead, I leaned against the doorframe, blocking his exit. "Well," I said, letting my eyes travel slowly down his body, "isn't this interesting."
The colour drained from his face. "Bathroom's all yours," he managed, his voice tight.
I didn't move. Something about his discomfort was magnetic. I wanted to push it further, see how he'd react. "I'm not here for the bathroom, Jesse from Topeka Covenant." I nodded toward his lanyard. "I'm more interested in what you're doing here."
His eyes widened. "How—how do you know my name?"
I tapped my temple. "It's on your lanyard, genius. Jesse Miller, Topeka Covenant Church." I pushed off from the doorframe and took a step closer. "So, Jesse Miller, what's a nice boy like you doing in a place like this? Besides the obvious." I gestured toward the urinals.
"I—I just needed—" He swallowed hard, his Adam's apple bobbing. "I'll be going now."
He tried to edge past me, but I shifted slightly to block him again. Not threatening, just... present. "What's the rush? I'm sure your hate rally can wait five minutes."
"It's not—" He stopped himself, shoulders tense. "Please let me leave."
"Of course," I said, taking a deliberate step to the side. "I'm not in the business of keeping people against their will. Unlike some organizations I could mention."
His face flushed, those blue eyes darting everywhere but at me. "I don't—we don't—"
"Complete sentences are your friend," I advised him, now genuinely amused. "Try one."
He took a deep breath, squaring those broad shoulders. Church boy clearly worked out. "I appreciate your understanding. I apologize for the intrusion."
I laughed. "You talk like you're addressing a board meeting. Relax, Jesse. I don't bite." I paused, letting my gaze linger on his lips. "Unless explicitly asked."
The blush that spread across his face was spectacular—likewatching a sunset in fast-forward. His mouth opened and closed soundlessly.
"You know," I continued, unable to help myself, "you're much prettier than the average protester. They usually send the angry old men to wave those signs. New recruitment strategy?"
"I should go," he managed, but he didn't move.
I stepped closer, close enough to smell his cologne—something clean and understated. "You should. But you haven't."
