I don’t want “some other man”.
I want Val.
I want his intensity. The punishing possessiveness in his touch. The brutality in his kiss, the savage way he fucks me like he’s conquering me.
I shouldn't want these things, but I do. And no amount of liquor I drink changes that.
Near the back door to the Mercury, I slink into the small alcove by the metal fire escape stairs. I know he’s here late, because he posted on his Instagram not even twenty minutes ago about “hitting the weights”—a selfie of him in the basement weight room here wearing a gym tank top, his muscled, tattooed arms on full display and that infuriatingly sexy, smug grin on his chiseled face.
Rehearsals are long done for the day. But I slip into the shadows to wait for him, just in case anyone else stayed late too.
I take another swig of vodka and let it scald its way past the demons taking up residency in my chest. I tug out my phone and open Instagram again to ogle his last selfie shamelessly.
I know why I’m here. Because I’m drunk. Because I’m lonely.
Because I’m horny, and I fucking want him.
The back door to the theater suddenly bangs open. My pulse jumps when I see Val step out with his heavy dance bag slung over his shoulder. I quickly slug back another heavy swig of vodka before I screw the cap back on and shove the flask into my jacket pocket.
“Hey.”
“Fuck.”
He whirls, instantly dropping the bag and raising his fists. His brow furrows when I slide out of the shadows of the alcove, smiling weakly.
“H-hi,” I mumble.
Val’s piercing blue eyes narrow. “The fuck is wrong with you?”
I flinch, recoiling and tensing up. “I—sorry, I just… I wanted to see you.”
He exhales slowly, dropping his arms and glaring at me. “I meant lurking in fucking dark alleys and sneaking up on people.”
“I—I just…” I frown, stammering, my words disappearing and my thoughts colliding together as the burn of alcohol sears into me.
“What do you want, Roman,” Val growls.
I smile again, my face throbbing and my pulse thudding as I meet his gaze. “I just…I needed to see you.”
Val barks a cold laugh. “Well, here I am. Happy?”
He starts to turn away, reaching for his bag.
“I overreacted.”
The word drops from my mouth, halting him. He turns toward me, his face half-shadowed.
“You? Overreacted?” he growls. “What a fuckingshocker?—”
“You fucking outed me!” I hurl back.
Val scowls. “Excuse me?”
“To Dasha!” I blurt. “Having her walk in on?—”
“Outed you aboutwhat, Roman?” He growls. “About you actually being gay? Or bi, or queer, or whatever? Which is it?”
I swallow, my ears ringing. “I—I don’t?—”