“He chuckled a little, and said maybe a little bit of both.”
“At least he’s honest,” I say.
“At first, I didn’t know if he knew I was one of the owners or not, but then I figured, nobody is going to invest in a company and not know exactly who the owners are.”
“So, did he buy anything?”
I take a left, pulling into the parking lot of the bar. The lot if pretty full, so we must be some of the last ones to arrive. Checking the time on the dash, we aren’t late.
“Yeah, same thing he bought last time.”
It’s not hard to find a spot, despite how busy it is. Putting the car into park, I unbuckle. “You think he’ll be back?”
“I’m sure he will. I just don’t know why. It’s kind of intimidating.”
We both climb out, and I lock the car, as we head inside. “Do you know anybody besides Benton?” I ask Xander.
“His husband’s come into the store with him a few times, but other than him, no.”
The aroma of Mexican food wafts over to us as we enter the threshold. My stomach growls, it smells so fucking good. The area is dimly lit, LEDs all around, mixed with the natural light pouring in through the windows. Tall, circular tables line the center, booths around the edges of the room, and the actual bar over on the far right. It looks like a nice place. Bet it looks even cooler at night.
Xander bumps me with his elbow. “There’s Benton and his husband. Let’s go say hi.”
I follow his gaze, my heart thrashing in my chest as I locate where he’s looking. “You must be fucking joking,” I mumble under my breath. I’m surprised Xan even heard me at all.
“What’s the matter?”
Huffing a laugh through my nose, becausewhat are the fucking odds?“See that guy standing next to them? The one in the black-and-white striped short-sleeve?”
“Yeah…”
“That’s Mateo.”
Xander’s jaw drops open as his head snaps in that direction. “No, it is not.”
“Yes, it fucking is.”
And as luck would have it, that would be the exact moment that fucker’s bright green eyes would scan the room, landing right on us. Well, onme.
“Shit,” I hiss right as Xander busts out laughing. “Is something funny?”
He stops laughing momentarily. “Um, yeah. You. Him. All of this.”
“Real fucking nice,” I scoff. “Wait, where are you going?”
“To go say hi to Benson and his husband. And apparently meet your new boo.” Xander stops in his tracks, leaning in to add low enough for only me to hear him, “And I can see why you can’t stay away. He’s fucking hot.”
This cannot be fucking happening.
Waking up the morning after we…hung out, I was so pissed at myself. When I’m sober, I can’t fucking stand the guy. He’s an annoyance to the largest degree, and there shouldn’t be any reason I can’t stay away from him. Like, why would someone feel the urge to hang out with someone they can’t stand? But drunk or high Travis apparently can’t seem to grasp that concept. It’s like my inhibitions leave the room—leave the whole damn building—when I get a substance flowing in my veins. I become immune to my ability to… well, be immune to Mateo.
A cocky fucking smirk is plastered on his face, only growing the closer we get. The men next to him—Benson and his husband—seem to be unaware of what’s going on around them. They’re too busy conversing about something together.
I’m a little surprised when we stop in front of the three of them, and Mateo has yet to say anything sarcastic or dick-ish. It’s like he’s waiting to see what I’ll say. Or maybe his friends don’t know what an enormous jackass he is.
“Hey, Benson. Hey, Doran,” Xander says, slapping a hand on one of their backs. “This is my buddy I was telling you about, Travis.”
Five sets of eyes look at me, one stronger than the others. The man, who’s slightly shorter than everyone else, extends an open hand for me. “Nice to meet you, Travis. I’m Benton, and this is my husband, Doran.”
