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Max shook his head and shrugged. “I wouldn’t say no if the opportunity presented itself, but I make good money, I get to travel all over the world, and I don’t have to put up with screaming fans everywhere I go. What about you?”
“I’m a flight attendant.”
The sly look returned to Max’s face, and he leaned even closer so his shoulder brushed Greg’s. “Is it true what they say about flight attendants?” He drew a finger up Greg’s forearms and smirked.
Greg knew damn well Max was alluding to the stereotype that flight attendants were charter members of the mile high club and spent their layovers and overnights having orgies in shared hotel rooms. There were IG and TikTok accounts that fed into the fantasy when the reality was that most of the flight attendants Greg flew with were professionals, many of them with spouses and families, who were so tired at the end of work, all they wanted was to soak in a tub and go to bed. Alone. So they could get up the next day and do it all over again. But he played along.
“What do they say?” he asked.
Max’s eyes nearly gleamed as they reflected the neon for which the club was named. “That you guys have a secret bunk above the cabin where you can…rest—” he winked at Greg, “—during flights.”
While Greg debated disabusing Max of his fantasy, a couple entering the club caught his attention. Ice doused his stomach as he recognized Mason. The man had his arm around someone, and it was clear from their body language that not only hadn’t they just met, they knew each other far more intimately than a recent fuck would explain. When Mason maneuvered the guy against the wall and began grinding against him, Greg downed the rest of his drink and turned his attention back to Max.
Max nodded toward the wall. “Someone you know?”
“My ex.”
“Ah. How recent?”
Greg grimaced. “Tonight.”
He glanced over his shoulder. Mason was still busy exploring his partner’s mouth while the guy had his hands occupied inside Mason’s pants. Max chortled, and Greg turned back to him with a raised eyebrow.
“Looks like he moved on pretty fast, huh?” Max winked.
“Yes. Thank you for pointing that out to me.” Greg shook his head and started to move away from the table, but Max put his hand on Greg’s arm. Greg cringed at the contact.
“It’s fine,” Max said. “Just means I arrived at the right time. Foryou.”
Greg lifted Max’s hand and placed it back on the table. “I don’t think so, but it was nice meeting you.” He walked away without another word, getting lost in the crowd as quickly as possible while he looked for Darius and Luis. When he found Darius, he let his friend know he was heading home.
“You sure?” Darius asked, practically shouting in Greg’s ear while continuing to move with the EDM beat.
“I’m sure. This was good. It definitely helped. But Mason just walked in with someone, so…”
“Say no more.” Darius looped an arm around Greg’s neck and pulled him into a tight hug. “I’ll let Luis know.”
Greg wrapped his arm around Darius and hugged him back, then patted him on the shoulder as they separated. “Thanks, man.”
“Always.”
They bumped fists, and then Greg wove his way through the crowd toward the doors. He kept his eyes open for Max, but the man was nowhere to be found, thankfully. The person Greg did run into, though, was the guy with whom he’d seen Mason getting hot and heavy. He was standing against the wall, watching the bar, where Greg saw Mason waiting in line. It only took Greg a few seconds to decide what he was going to do.
Sidling into place next to Mason’s guy, Greg casually bumped against him, then smiled when the guy looked his way. Greg might not feel sexual attraction or flirt very often, but he knew what it looked like.
“Hi,” he said, then licked his lips.
The guy’s gaze dropped to Greg’s mouth and then back to his eyes. He smiled, then shook his head. “Sorry. I’m waiting for my fiancé. He’s at the bar.”
Greg shook his head as if he was disappointed and gave a one-shoulder shrug. “You’re engaged to Mason?”
Confusion flashed across the man’s expression. “I am.” He self-consciously twisted at the engagement ring on his left hand. “Do you know him?”
“I do.” Greg paused. He checked in with his conscience for a split second before he leaned in and said, “I suggest you get tested since Mason told me his HIV status just before he broke up with me tonight.”
Without another word, Greg walked away with an extra swing in his hips. Luis wasn’t the only one who could go full-on diva when he was pissed.
As he passed through the club’s doors, Greg hoped that the guy, whoever he was, confronted Mason then got himself to a clinic. It was always possible Mason had been truthful with his fiancé—seriously? Fiancé?—or lying to Greg about his status, but considering he’d also lied about being in a relationship, Greg wasn’t going to take a chance that the guy didn’t know. Greg took a moment to silently curse Mason and all assholes like him once more. He didn’t know if he’d done the right thing, but he also knew he couldn’t have walked away without saying something.
