“Good, then kiss me goodbye, and you may go. I have business with The Nolan,” he says as if we have an appointment he’s keeping.
I cross my arms but keep quiet because I want to judge for myself if Eddie’s into whatever the fuck’s going on with Maxwell or if he’s being coerced in some way.
Eddie freezes as a war rages in his mind, playing out over his face. Interesting. Maybe it’s more a case of hewisheshe wasn’t as into Maxwell as he is. Finally, he takes a step toward Elkington. Elkington’s big hand reaches out, clasping Eddie by the collar of his shirt, dragging him back. Maxwell does the ninety-ten thing. He goes in ninety percent but leaves Eddie to make the last ten percent journey to his lips.
Eddie does. It’s timid at first, but the utter craving is clear. It might be a craving that sickens him, but it’s a craving, nonetheless.
Once Elkington releases Eddie, he sends him off with a smack to his ass. A red-faced Eddie storms out.
“Isn’t he the most beautiful thing you’ve ever seen?” Maxwell says, staring after his retreating form. “Or no, wait. Your beauty is the Boulder boy.”
I freeze. It’s not the first time the man’s made my blood run cold, but you’d think I’d be used to it.
Maxwell buckles his belt—finally—but leaves his shirt undone. He sits at the bar, my bar, as if it’s his own. “I’ll have my usual, bestie,” he says.
“You’re not my bestie, Elkington,” I tell him in no uncertain terms, but I pour him his drink. I pour one for me, too.
“I only have time for the one today, got a bit carried away in there,” he says, his tone happier than I’ve ever heard it. “So, let’s skip the part where you deny your relationship with Dirk. I had your phone hacked. Some of the stuff you say to yourpretty boyis fucking filthy. Enough to inspire even the likes of me, so thanks for that.”
His words are calculated, so I’ll know he’s not lying. No one knows I call Dirk that, but now he does.
“I’m gonna fucking kill you, Elkington,” I hiss.
He’s unbothered, sipping his drink with the confidence of a man who owns the world. “You won’t. I’m sure you’re angry, having your privacy violated, but I needed to know about you if we’re going to be friends.”
“I don’t want this friendship.”
“Maybe not now, but you will.” He downs his drink, holding the glass out for more.
“Thought you only had time for one?”
“What can I say, my man makes me thirsty.”
I pour him another one because I’m currently at a disadvantage. I won’t be for long, but it doesn’t change the fact that I underestimated his obsession with me. He’s clearly not interested in me romantically—all of that energy goes to poor Eddie—but he is interested.
“We’re going to be the best of friends. Even our sexual proclivities are the same—judging by some of those text messages.” He winks.
“Dirk is a consenting adult.” I shouldn’t defend myself to this asshole, but he’s hit upon one of my biggest insecurities, and it just comes out.
“So is Eddie. At least Eddie’s closer in age. Dirk’s a bit young in my opinion, but to each their own.”
I growl. But fuck, getting under my skin is exactly what he’s trying to do. It’s working.
“We’re not the same.”
“But we are. Just because you ride a moral high horse these days, doesn’t erase the darkness that lives in you.”
I’m itching to spout back with all the good I’ve done in defense, but I’m well aware of how many charities Maxwell donates to. Millions of dollars to Children’s Hospital from his own pocket. Millions to women’s shelters. He’s even done a decent job with the city since he’s been mayor. He could list a good deed for every one I’ve done.
But then he does shit like hack into my phone and use it against me.
“Everyone hates your fucking bike lanes,” I tell him because it’s all I’ve got right now. It should be easy to point out Maxwell’s flaws, why am I struggling with this?
“Not the bikers,” he says. “And they’re good for the environment. I’ve reduced the carbon footprint of our city, proven in several research studies.”
Yeah, probably funded by him.
“You’re a cyclist. You wanted the bike lanes for yourself.”
