Page 3 of Safe
How was he this drunk? Usually he handled his liquor better. Then again, he didn’t usually drink on an empty stomach after a day of playing nine innings in the desert heat either. A big hand gripped his bicep, and the world tilted precariously as he was unceremoniously dragged out of the booth.
“I said, come on.”
Cruz let Trevor pull him upright without a fight. His hand was big and warm, and it practically burned Cruz’s flesh where it slid under the sleeve of his T-shirt. He was forced to his feet, and his legs were just rubbery enough that he wavered a moment, his chest brushing against Trevor’s for a split second as he came face-to-face with that gorgeous, stony expression he knew so well.
“You okay?” There was an undercurrent of something in Trevor’s voice when he spoke softly, just to Cruz, that he couldn’t quite place. “Can you walk out of here?”
He nodded because he couldn’t find his voice.
“Good.” The hand on his arm disappeared, and so did Trevor’s nearness as he stepped back. “Get your drunk ass in the elevator before I kick it into next week.”
Cruz winced and followed, completely unable to appreciate that firm, tight ass he liked so much in those denim jeans ahead of him. Trevor was pissed. Not concerned. Not annoyed. Pissed. And some sick and twisted part of Cruz liked it, liked that he could get the Ice King to crack, liked that his bratty behavior had gotten him what he wanted.
He and Trevor were headed up to their room. Alone. Together. And in his alcohol-fueled haze, that seemed like the best possible ending to this night. Almost like a fairytale come true. If only his prince charming would stop scowling at him.
They stepped into the elevator, and the doors closed behind them. Their images stared back at them, or rather, Trevor’s blue eyes stared at him in the reflection, burning a hole in Cruz’s restraint. He smirked, and the words rolled out of his mouth before his brain could convince his tequila tongue it was a bad idea.
“Stop glaring at me. It makes me want to kiss that look right off your stupidly gorgeous face.”
Chapter Two
TREVOR THORNE GRINNED. He couldn’t help it. Not two minutes ago, he’d been annoyed. With his brother and with his trainer and with the baseball gods. He’d been in a shitty mood all night, and drinking hadn’t helped matters. His best friend had gotten drunk in record time and only added to his annoyance. But leave it to Rodrigo Cruz to say the most completely unexpected, inappropriate thing he could imagine, and just like that, Trevor was grinning.
Only Cruz could make him smile these days. When everything else in his world was going to hell, Cruz was the bright, shining light that kept him going. Cruz pushed him, challenged him, and kept him on his toes. He never said or did what Trevor expected him to.
And he loved the guy for it even as he wanted to strangle him for flirting with him now.
Now. Tonight. When Trevor was already tied up in knots and confused about his future. When he was on the brink of making a big, life-changing decision. One that would mean giving up everything he was even as it opened up a world of possibilities he’d never let himself consider.
His heart thumped hard in his chest as the possibilities loomed.
This was Trent’s fault, he decided instantly. His twin brother had been on his case for weeks to man the fuck up and do what he needed to do. Retire from baseball. Let go of all his dreams. Admit his knee was fucking killing him and go see the doc, let his manager know that every time he squatted behind the plate he had to hope and pray he could get back up.
His days in the big leagues had been numbered and were already long gone. He’d had the drive but not the natural talent. Not at that level. He’d clung to the game the only way he could, taking a spot with the minor-league Titans with the understanding that he would help and guide the young future superstars before they worked their way up to the majors with their affiliate, the Chicago Skylines. But even those days were numbered for him now with the knee injury and his age.
The very thought of quitting baseball was enough to rock him. Adding in what went along with it, the freedom to finally come clean, to be who he really was? Well, it was a lot to deal with and his brother riding his ass about truth and honesty wasn’t helping.
Trent with his new boyfriend living his gay-as-hell happy good life was annoying. Trevor almost wished he’d never reached out and reconnected with the bastard. Which wasn’t really true. He loved his brother. The problem was they were too damn much alike.
Both headstrong, both dominant, both demanding and aggressive. It had led to a ton of fights when they were kids. It had led to one as adults that meant they hadn’t spoken in almost a decade. Trevor regretted that more than he could ever say, because he knew he was the one who had been in the wrong.
Wiping his brother out of his life for admitting who he was was wrong. Being scared to be tied to Trent in case his secret ever got out had been childish. Trying to distance himself from his brother simply because he was gay had been despicable.
Especially considering how much easier Trent’s life would have been if Trevor had done the right thing and stood up with him, stood at his side, had his back, and admitted he was gay too.
But he’d been scared. He’d wanted a career in baseball. He was an athlete. And his judgmental, homophobic father had convinced him he’d never have it if he was gay. Even now, a decade later and the old bastard rotting in the ground, he wasn’t entirely certain he’d have made it as far as he had if he’d come out of the closet. And he was still scared.
Scared of what his life would be without baseball. Scared of what it would be if he admitted he was gay. Scared of the way the man slouched against the wall of the elevator made him feel. He was scared of Rodrigo Cruz because he was everything Trevor had never been and worried he could never be.
Out, proud, warm, happy, and full of life. Cruz was like the sun, and the closer Trevor got to him the harder it was to keep his icy reserve in place.
Which was exactly why he should have kept his distance. It was why he should never have agreed to room with the guy. It was why he shouldn’t have let a true, real friendship form between them. It was why drinking with him had been a terrible idea. Because Trevor had been in a mood, and he’d let his true feelings too close to the surface, close enough that something he’d said or done had triggered Cruz to think it was okay to flirt with him tonight.
And hell, maybe that was what Trevor had wanted.
Maybe he’d wanted Cruz to flirt with him tonight. Maybe he’d thought the alcohol would loosen them both up and make them admit what they really wanted. Maybe he was hoping it would help him make his decision.
The truth was, he honestly didn’t know anymore.
