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There was a faint sheen of moisture on his forehead, but his mouth was dry like he’d swallowed some cotton balls as he said in a croaky whisper, “I’ll be right back, Mike.”
“I’ll be right here, Rayne.”
As close as they were standing, Rayne could see the faint gray-and-black stubble on Mike’s strong jaw. Rayne had been with a lot of older men in his past, but he’d never considered why they’d been so easy to be intimate with. He was attracted to maturity. Mike’s gaze lowered to his mouth and stayed there until Rayne walked away.
Wood was pacing back and forth across the deck when Rayne stepped outside. He was careful to close the door all the way so no one overheard their conversation. Wood didn’t stop wearing out the bottom of his Nikes until Rayne sat in one of the chairs around the now clean table. The food and dishes were cleared, and all that remained in the center was a beautiful floral centerpiece. These guys really love gardening around here. Rayne crossed his legs and fingered the soft petals while his friend had his silent fit a few feet away.
“I’m glad you’re so calm.”
Oh, I’m far from calm. But Rayne was good at faking. “Something on your mind, Wood?”
“Don’t pull that smooth stuff with me, Rayne.” Wood glowered. “You know what this is about.”
“You haven’t held your tongue all evening. Don’t start now.”
“Fine.” Wood stopped walking. “Are you and Mike… y’know…?”
It seemed Wood deliberately didn’t say “hot for each other” as if saying it out loud might jinx it if it weren’t already true.
Rayne covered his grin, not wanting to mock his friend when he was obviously concerned. Instead, he glanced down at his lap and asked, “What is your problem with Mike, Wood? Be honest, please.”
Wood stared hard at him as if he was trying to drill what he was about to say into his brain through osmosis. “You don’t know him, Rayne. Mike has a past.”
“So do I. So do you.”
“But not like his.” Wood came and sat beside him. “I’m telling you this because I care about you. And I want you to be happy and settled down with a sweet… kind-hearted… sensitive guy who’ll worship the ground you walk on.”
“Who the hell ever said I wanted that?”
Wood gaped, perhaps not expecting that response, but he seemed to digress. “Also, maybe a slightly younger guy or someone more around your own age.”
This time, Rayne didn’t hold back his laughter. “Ahh. Is that all? You think I’m too young for him.”
“No! I think he’s too old for you.”
Rayne huffed. “What’s the difference?”
Wood lowered his voice, though there was no one else outside with them. “He can be violent, Rayne. I mean, you were with me when I had to pick him up from jail not that long ago. And I’m sure he’s got enemies all over this city and probably a few others.”
Rayne was about to take one of Wood’s hands into his but decided better on it in case Trent was watching out of a window. “Listen, Wood, you’re an amazing friend. The best I’ve ever had. But you’re wrong about Mike.”
“No, I’m not—”
“And you might fare better if you stay out of my personal life and focus on your own before you get us both in trouble. Trent’s feelings should always be your first priority and concern, not mine.”
Wood ignored the topic of his boyfriend and kept digging. “You act as if you know Mike so well.”
“And you do?”
“I know he put a knife to my damn throat a couple of months ago.” Wood snapped.
Rayne imagined Mike getting the best of a man as big as Wood and holding him down. He prayed his eyes weren’t dancing with titillation because his pulse was pounding at the thought.
“What did you do to make him do that to you?” Rayne asked.
Wood appeared shocked and a little hurt by the question, as if there should be no justification for trying to kill him, but if Wood was going to tell the story, he needed to tell it all. Unless Mike was psychotic, he must’ve had a reason.
Wood lowered his eyes. “I, um, did and said some things that hurt Trent real bad.”
