Smoothing out my long leather jacket, I’m glad I went sans shirt. My muscles aren’t as bulky, but I’ve still got something to show for myself. I was only planning on dropping Jack off. Having a drink with his jealous ex-boyfriend was not on the docket for my evening.
“Ginger beer,” I say to the bartender, taking a seat on one of the round velvet-covered chairs at the bar top while he orders one of the most expensive cognacs he can find. “Make this short, kid. I’ve still got cum to wash off my dick.”
“Very funny. Enjoy him while you can.”
Oh, brother. We’re doing that, eh? “Your tone suggests I should thank you, but I wouldn’t hold your breath.”
The bartender brings over our drinks and I take a sip, waiting. He’s the one who wanted to talk to me. He can speak first. He takes a casual sip of his pretentious alcohol.
“Jack isn’t yours he’s mine,” he says.
I wish I had something better to say than “no he’s not, he’s mine” because Jack is supposed to belong to Jack, but every fiber of my being shouts that the only one Jack really belongs to is me.
Everyone should know that, especially Rhett.
Instead, I do as I advise all the children to do and take a breath, stopping myself before I utter the true but alpha-hole-type statement aloud and stoop to Rhett’s level.
“What’s the play here, Rhett?” I say instead. My intuition tingles. He has a playbook he’s been working from, and I’d bet my house I’m the unruly cog in the machine he’s got to take care of.
“There’s no play.” Yeah, sure there’s not. “Jack is mine to protect, mine to love, and we’re meant to spend the rest of our lives together.”
What I hate most about what he’s said is that I don’t feel any differently. I would have used the same verbiage. In some ways, I’m no better than this kid with more money and fame than he knows how to handle at his age. There’s only one difference and I’ve gotta hope it’s what makes me better. I’ll step aside if Jack wants me to, but only if he wants me to.
“That’s up to Jack.”
“And Jack’s mind was clear about me until you showed up.”
“Am I missing something here? You two haven’t talked in over a year.” As far as I know.
“Jack’s message settings are set tosend read receipts. He reads every text I send him. He’s never stopped checking my Instastories.”
“Is that your era's way of pining? Because to me that just sounds like curiosity.” I sip my ginger beer, wishing it was a real one. He sounds more insane by the second.
He shrugs unbothered by my opinion of him one way or the other. “I also know Jack and I knew that if he wanted me out of his life, he would have blocked me like he did with Rex Milton.”
“Rex Milton?”
“His high school boyfriend. They broke up when Jack moved up to the AHL. He never spoke to the guy again. Had no interest in him.”
Yeah, and Rhett had nothing to do with that. Sure. I don’t know what it is about him, but he gives me major red-flag vibes even though I’ve got no solid proof of that.
“Anyway, he agreed that he’d leave with me at the end of the season.”
I don’t expect my heart to clench as much as it does. I knew I was falling, maybe the truth is I already fell. Worse, I began believing my own bullshit. Jack warned me, and I didn’t listen, creating a love-sick narrative for myself, hoping that I was the one man he’d finally block Rhett for.
Rhett could be lying, but I doubt it. He’s too confident in how much power he has over the situation to feel the need for lying. He’s not confident enough to give me all the pieces of his plan.
“My feelings aside, you know how much he loves hockey. He loves it so much that he was willing to live without you—the man he loves—to pursue his dream. How can you feel good about that?”
He swirls his cognac like he’s been drinking it for decades, and takes a thoughtful sip. “The answer to that is the kind of answer people like you don’t like because you don’t know people like me and Jack.”
“Try me.”
“Jack doesn’t know how to make those kinds of decisions for himself. That’s why he has me.”
It’s my turn to bob my shoulders in an impassionate shrug to let him know how shit I think his opinion is. “He was doing fine without you.”
“He began to do better recently. Marginally. He hasn’t been good.”
