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Ronan (Now)
I smiled down at Jeremy when his hand snaked up my shirt and he tweaked one of my nipples.
I think that was his name.
Jeremy or Justin or Jack. Maybe James.
Something with a J.
And even then, whatever he’d told me might not be his real name since I found him on Grindr. That app was where I found most of my “dates.”
Being a twink, he really wasn’t my type per se, but tonight my type was anyone able to get my mind off Tate and the fact he now lived in my building. Even if me forgetting my former lover only lasted for a little while.
Because I was tired.
Tired of thinking about Tate. He had invaded my thoughts and dreams all over again.
Sometimes I took my hookups to the William Penn Hotel for the night instead of my penthouse, just in case they were a clinger, or a murdering psycho. I also had a bad experience with a past “date” after waking up one morning and finding some of my things missing.
I was pissed at first that the guy had taken a couple of my smaller art pieces and pinched the cash and black AmEx card out of my wallet. Once I cancelled my card and called the police to file a report and my insurance company to cover the stolen art, I figured if the guy needed the money that badly, he could have it. I guessed it was one way of giving back to the gay community. Just not in a method I had planned.
However, tonight I wasn’t in the mood to deal with a hotel. And I’m pretty sure Joe only wanted a quick bang and a goodbye like I did. One reason why I picked him.
So, here it was, Sunday evening and I had met Justin, Jason, or John for dinner at the Primanti Brothers downtown—an occasional unhealthy food splurge for me—and bought him everything he wanted to eat. Afterward, we walked back to my place since the night was perfect and the city quiet for the most part.
Now we were standing in front of the elevator and waiting for the car to finish its descent to the ground floor. I was in no rush to get upstairs since deep down I was hoping to run into Tate in order to prove that I’d moved on and gotten over him.
Truthfully, I thought I had until I’d seen him again. Then everything I had buried bubbled back up to the surface.
It annoyed me that… One, out of all the apartments to rent in Pittsburgh, he chose one in my building. Two, that he still looked so damn good. Three, that he’d had two kids, at least that I knew of, with Dahlia. And lastly, that the heart I thought had scarred over really hadn’t.
Just seeing and hearing Tate had driven a wedge into the tiniest of cracks that must have remained in my heart, causing it to split wide open all over again.
I regretted not telling him to find another place like he offered. But then, if I had, it would be proof that his living here bothered me. The exact reason I brought Jeremiah home tonight instead of taking him elsewhere.
Just as the elevator dinged and the doors began to open, so did the lobby doors behind us. I held the doors as I turned my head, hoping it wasn’t the Callahans after their evening walk with Mr. Pibbles.
It wasn’t.
It was who I’d hoped. I suddenly regretted my plan, just like I regretted eating the kielbasa and cheese sandwich loaded with coleslaw and French fries earlier at Primanti’s.
Me being petty wasn’t going to hurt Tate.
It would hurt me. Again.
But now I couldn’t not hold the doors for him. Not without looking like a bitter hag.
Even though I felt like one.
I sighed and hip-bumped Jessie to get him moving into the elevator to wait. I went from holding the door to holding the button on the panel, trying not to stare at Tate as his long, still familiar gait ate up the real estate between us.
I failed.
I was so tempted to close my eyes and get whisked back to our college days, back to when we began to explore each other, not as friends but lovers… Back to when I bottomed for him.
After he left, I never bottomed for anyone again.
I shook that from my thoughts and set my jaw as he stepped into the car, eyeing up Jace in one sweep before his vibrant blue gaze landed on me.
“Sixth floor,” his baritone voice rumbled.
I almost answered in a snippy, “I know,” but caught myself in time. He had no idea that I knew what floor he lived on.
I didn’t bother to hit the button for any floor but his. I wasn’t sure I wanted him to know where I lived yet. I could push the button for the penthouse after he exited on his own floor.
