Page 36 of Coming to Grips
Kyle shrugs. “Okay. I’ll go order. Back shortly.” He claps him on the shoulder, squeezing lightly. Warmth glows in Chase’s stomach, chasing away the last of the chill that the run-in with Anna had left behind.
“‘Kay.” Chase watches him saunter away. Kyle’s jeans hug his lean hips and deceptively slim thighs. The black tee shirt against the tanned skin of his arms and throat is a big turn-on. Chase sucks in a surprised breath.
Well, damn—how’d he fall so fast?
But was it fast...?
They’ve been friends a long time, and he’s always found Kyle attractive.
That realization stops his thoughts in their tracks for a moment.Huh.He’s always found Kyle attractive. The thought should surprise him more than it does, but it’s just, whatever. It’s a fact and there’s no denying it. So, yeah.
Kyle disappears into the crowd, heads toward the walk-up window.
Chase taps his foot in time to the music and watches the people shuffling and twirling on the dance floor. One song ends and another begins. Some people leave the dance floor; others head onto it.
His beer is halfway to his mouth when he spots Anna sashaying his direction. He sets his bottle on the table with an unintentional clunk. His stomach clenches and he fights the urge to go in search of Kyle. But Kyle should return any minute now, and why should Chase allow Anna to scare him off? She’s nothing more than a pathetic drunk. After that stunt she’d pulled, however—does she even remember?—he wants no part of her.
Anna stops abruptly as if she just remembered she needed to and stumbles sideways before straightening back up.
Christ.He swipes a hand down his face.
“So...” she says, although it sounds more like “show.” Chase winces. He can’t remember ever seeing her so drunk.
“Anna,” he replies with a nod. He waits, hoping she’ll forget or pass out or just go away.
“I asked the band to play, uh, “Every Storm.”” She snaps her fingers ineffectually as she remembers the song title. “Come on, Chase, come dance with me.”
Every S sounds like an SH. She tilts her head sideways and holds out her hand. The motion sends her lurching to the left and into someone’s chair. The seated woman grimaces at Anna, then at Chase, and shakes her head before turning back to her friend.
“No,” he says firmly, so there’s no question. He wouldn’t dance with her if she paid him at this point.
“Aw, come on, don’t be a spoil sport. It’s your favorite song,” she says in a slurred sing-song voice.
“I don’t want to dance with you. Please leave me alone.” He’s only being polite ‘cause his momma raised him right.
She frowns and stumbles again. Blinks to focus on his face. “You know...” she says, her voice loud enough to make Chase flinch. The song ends and it’s quiet for a moment. “…just because you’re gay doesn’t mean we can’t dance.”
The people around them turn to goggle.
Chase jumps to his feet. Humiliation and every ounce of anger he feels whirls in his gut, mixing as if his stomach were a blender. Heat licks his face and his heart pounds against his ribs.
Who the hell does she think she is? First, she gropes him and then she has the audacity to call him gay in public?
Clearly and loudly so she can’t misunderstand, Chase says, “I. Am. Not. Gay. I don’twantto be gay. If being gay means being ridiculed, discriminated against, or beat up, then you couldn’t pay me a million dollars to be gay.”
“Is that a fact...?” Anna sneers, suddenly seeming much less inebriated. “Well, cowboy, I’ve seen the way you look at your best friend, Kyle. All moon-eyed and dopey.”
A blast furnace of heat radiates off Chase’s face, and his stomach churns so much he almost feels sick. “What the hell are you talking about? Kyle’s my best friend, has been my best friend for over ten years. That’s all there is between us. All there will ever be between us. So don’t ever say such a stupid thing about me again.”
The crowd remains silent, staring at him. His chest heaves as if he’s just run a 5K marathon and embarrassment washes over him like a tsunami. Even Anna, in her drunken state, appears stunned.Oh God oh God oh God.What has he done? He’s crossed a line. He’s only had two beers, but it wouldn’t matter if he’d had ten. Nothing can excuse the sentiments that have just come out of his mouth.
And, shit, where’s Kyle? Please let him have been in the john. Chase scans the faces in front of him. No Kyle.
A whisper of movement draws his gaze, though, and Kyle steps out from behind the guy standing behind Anna. Chase’s stomach lurches, and his beer definitely threatens to make a return appearance. He swallows hard.
The look of utter betrayal on Kyle’s face slays Chase as nothing else could have. Before Chase’s brain can even engage, Kyle is gone, pushing through the crowd toward the exit.
Chase can’t catch his breath and his vision narrows and darkens. What has he done? What the hell has he just done? His mouth goes dry, and his tongue sticks to the roof of his mouth. He couldn’t call after Kyle to save either of their lives, even if a freight train had been barreling toward them.
