Crushed Page 2

  I wasn’t lost. Nathan peered through the people to see two men against the far wall, draped in shadow. One was tall and lanky, all skin and bones, his haggard face reminiscent of a grinning skull. He had a day’s worth of stubble on his cheeks, wore dark sunglasses and a stupid wool hat pulled down over his eyebrows, and when he grinned their way, Nathan froze like a rabbit caught in headlights. You’re joking. “Are you crazy?” he hissed, tugging on her arm. “Has he had his shots?”

  “Not him, silly,” she admonished. “The other one.”

  As they approached, the other man turned and smiled at them. He had long brown hair that fell straight to frame the dusky skin on his face, and soft eyes that reminded Nathan of cows. And cows aren’t sexy. “Great,” he said. “You’ve set me up with a guy that looks like Jesus Christ.”

  Can I leave now? Because I believe I am quite through here, thank you very much. Looking around for someone, anyone, to rescue him, he raised a hand and called out, “Check, please.”

  “Oh, stop it,” Cindy told him. “Herb, Roger, this is Nathan. Remember I mentioned him? Herbert?”

  The second man nodded as he held a hand out to him. Nathan shook it, struggling not to grimace at the weak touch. In a high, feminine voice that Nathan didn’t care for at all, he said, “Cindy mentioned you’d be coming by.”

  “She has a tendency to run off at the mouth sometimes.” Shaking his hand free from Herbert’s, Nathan resisted the urge to wipe his palm down the side of his jeans. “I like your hair. Who’s your barber, the Pope?”

  Herbert frowned, unsure of what Nathan meant, but his friend bared his teeth in a wicked grin and Nathan found himself wishing the guy would take off the damn shades already, just so he could make sure the eyes behind them weren’t tiny red coals. Seeing Roger’s smile, Cindy laughed too loud, hoping to cover Nathan’s words. “He’s got such a sense of humor,” she explained as she gave his arm a vicious pinch. Through clenched teeth, she growled, “Be nice.” The smile never slipped from her face.

  Nathan knew her too well not to see what was coming next. Letting go of his arm, she took Roger’s hand. “The tap’s run dry. I need some help getting a new keg in here—”

  “I’ll help,” Nathan and Herbert said in unison.

  Cindy glared at Nathan. “Roger will help me,” she said, tugging Roger along behind her. “Won’t you? Come on, be a dear. I don’t know where Tom has gotten to…”

  She disappeared into the crowd, Roger in tow. Thank you, Cindy. Nathan shoved his hands into his back pockets, where he felt his wallet. Thinking of the condom hidden inside, he frowned at the short guy beside him, with the long hair and the girlish voice. Looks like I’m going to be tossing out that damn box after all.

  When Herbert turned to him and smiled, Nathan groaned. “Look,” he said, forcing a tight grin. “I need a drink.”

  Herbert nodded and Nathan backed away, wondering how many steps he should take before just running for it. Would that look bad? He didn’t much care at this point. “Nice meeting you. Really.”

  Another step. Herbert spoke up, raising his voice to be heard over the crowd. “Cindy’s told me a lot about you,” he said as he leaned closer. Nathan took an involuntary step back. “I’m glad we finally got to say hi.”

  And this is me saying goodbye. “That’s cool,” he said, backing up. Another step—he was almost free. “I’ll see you around, okay?”

  “I’ll be here,” Herbert told him.

  Nathan turned and bolted, pushing his way through the crowd in his haste to get away, get the hell out of there. So much for the party. He navigated to the kitchen and the promise of something strong enough to put those muddy calf eyes out of his mind.

  Chapter 3

  In the hallway, Nathan stopped. There was nowhere to run to anyway, too many people hemmed him in on all sides, pushing and bumping and gyrating with the rhythms of the music. He felt as if he were in the belly of a giant beast, slowly being digested. Get me out of here, he pleaded silently, trying to work his way through the crowd and back to the kitchen. Once free, he’d hightail it to his car and just peel away. And the next party Tom invites me too, I’m saying no. A line of girls snaked past him, holding hands to stay together in the crowd. I said no this time, but I’m not going to let you talk me into this again. Not until you manage to keep Cindy on a short leash.

  “Coming through!”

  Nathan looked up at Tom’s bellow and saw his friend carrying a tray full of cut vegetables and dip high above his head, out of reach of the crowd. Sidestepping into the hallway, Nathan stopped in Tom’s path. “Hey, watch—Nathan!” His friend laughed, an infectious sound that cut through the din of the party. “Shit, when did you show up?”

  “I’m leaving,” Nathan announced, but he let Tom snag his arm and pull him into the den, where a large buffet table had been set out. Here there were chips and candy and soda bottles, two bowls of punch, a few lit pumpkins carved into silly faces, and tiny sandwiches, quartered, with the crusts cut off. Somehow Tom managed to find a space among all the food to slide the veggie tray onto the table. “Tom…”

  Tom laughed again and clapped Nathan on the back. Behind them the wall vibrated beneath the speakers on the other side, where the DJ was set up in the living room. Nathan wondered how long the house could stand under the steady pounding. “You having fun, man?” Tom asked.

  At least in this part of the house, the walls muted the music. It thudded around them but Nathan didn’t have to shout to be heard. “I just got here,” he told his friend, “and your girl has already tried to hook me up with—”

  “Herbert?” Tom asked. “What do you think of him?”

  Nathan gave Tom a look that said exactly what he thought of Herbert. Tom laughed again. Why do you think this is funny? “Aw, c’mon now,” Tom said. “He’s nice.”

  “Your mother’s nice, Tom,” Nathan pointed out. “But I’m not going out with her.”

  Tom’s smile disappeared. “I thought you didn’t like girls,” he said, serious.

  Nathan rolled his eyes. Grabbing a handful of vegetables from the tray, he stuck a spear of celery into his mouth and began to munch on it, the sound filling his head, almost drowning out the music. “I was kidding,” he said. “Look, Tom, I’m gonna go, okay? This just isn’t working out.”

  “What?” Tom asked, grinning again. “It’s a party, Nathan. Lighten the hell up already and have some fun.”

  I ain’t getting laid tonight. So what’s your idea of fun again? Because I did this whole stag bit back in college, hated it then, hate it now. If I’m not getting with anyone, I’m outta here.

  With a challenge in his voice, Tom asked, “How many people have you met so far? Hmm? You know everyone here already?”

  “No,” Nathan muttered, chomping on another piece of celery.

  Tom laughed. “Me either! That’s part of the fun, dude. So go mingle. No one said you have to hang out with Herbert all night long.”

  Thank God. “You keep Cindy away from me,” he said. At his friend’s laughter, he added, “I’m serious, Tom! She’s on a mission to get me with the world’s most boring guy, I know it. Jesus, what did I ever do to her, you know?”

  Tom shrugged. “Just duck and run if you see her coming,” he offered. “I gotta go refresh the liquor.” He caught Nathan’s gaze and held it for a long minute, daring him to look away. Nathan couldn’t. “You have fun, you hear me? If it kills you…”

  “I’ll be dead before midnight,” Nathan told him.

  “I want your stereo when you go,” Tom said. “And your cubicle at the office. You have a window—”

  “Tom!” Nathan cried. “I was kidding.”

  With a wink, Tom assured him, “So was I. Listen, I’ll catch up with you, okay? Mingle a bit.” Leaning closer, he said in a stage whisper, “It usually helps not to hang out by the food.”

  Nathan gave him a playful shove. “Go on,” he muttered. As his friend walked away, Nathan looked over the tables, the s
oda, the punch, and remembered he had wanted something strong to drink. Still do. He dropped the vegetables in his hand back onto the serving tray and eyed the press of people between himself and the hall. He didn’t relish the thought of going back into that, not if he didn’t have to…but I have no choice. The exit’s that way. Taking a deep breath, he lowered his head and watched his feet as he pushed through the crowd.

  He didn’t make it as far as the hall when he bumped into someone, hard. Cold beer sloshed down the front of his shirt and trickled into his jeans. “Damn it the fuck,” he muttered, shaking the alcohol from his hands. “Watch where the hell you’re going next time.”

  “You ran into me.” The voice was masculine and deep and slightly familiar, but Nathan couldn’t place it as he wiped at the beer staining his chest. So much for looking good—

  “Nathan?” the guy asked, incredulous. “Nathan Gayle?”

  Nathan looked up from his damp shirt, scowling, a caustic reply already on his lips. “Who the fuck wants to know?”

  He saw pale blue eyes like chips of clear ice and a shy smile he hadn’t seen in years. “Wes?” he cried with a laugh.

  Wes Roberts had been a short, gawky boy Nathan knew in high school. Two years his senior, Wes had been a nice guy, quiet, shy, with an unruly crop of black hair that hid a pair of gorgeous eyes. If nothing else, Nathan sure as hell remembered those eyes.

  Could that same awkward, pudgy kid from high school really be this guy here with him now? Same black hair, long enough to curl at the ends, parted down the middle and tucked behind his ears to show off that icy gaze. Nathan’s height now, Wes wore a muscle shirt that showed off thick biceps and fleshy arms; the baby fat was gone but Wes had filled out, no doubt, and in all the right places…

  “Dayum,” Nathan purred, letting his gaze run down Wes’s body. He took in the strong hands holding two cups of beer, the snug jeans, those arms and those lips and those eyes…did he mention the eyes? Staring through him, lit with a bright smile. How could he have ever forgotten those eyes? “You’ve been drinking your milk. You look fine.”

  Wes laughed and stuck one cup of beer into the other, now half-full because Nathan wore most of the liquid. Pointing at Nathan’s head with his empty hand, he asked, “What did you do to your hair?”

  But his smile didn’t falter and for the first time in months Nathan felt a stirring in his groin. He lowered his head so Wes could run a hand through his thick curtain of hair. Do you remember that night in the back of your pickup? We just had that one night, remember? Hooked up after the prom—whatever happened to your date? What was her name again? Though he’d only been a sophomore, Nathan had gone to Wes’s senior prom with a daughter of one of his mother’s friends. He didn’t remember whom Wes had taken, a friend maybe, no one serious. The girls knew each other, which was how Nathan found himself sitting beside Wes at dinner. It started there, innocent—a hand on Wes’s knee beneath the table, a grin that didn’t seem to want to disappear. And sometime before the last dance they snuck away from their dates and the band, and even now, when he closed his eyes, he could feel those hands on his body again, those lips on his, the sweet press of a thigh against his crotch. How long ago had it been?

  And then you went away to college. He savored the feel of tentative fingers on his scalp. We lost touch, it was just one night and I had had so many other nights like it before and after, just fumbled moments with guys in the backs of cars or in empty classrooms or beneath the bleachers at football games. Just heavy petting, kissing, that was it. But tell me, please, do you remember that? That part of me? Because right now I’m thinking we can maybe pick it up again, take it farther this time…I’d like to give it a try.

  “You cut it all off,” Wes murmured, his hand fisted in Nathan’s fringe. “God, I used to love your hair.”

  “You did?” Nathan had worn it long in high school, used to drive the girls wild, but it was too high maintenance to keep up now. Still, if he’d known guys liked it as well…He felt his cheeks begin to heat up. “Really?”

  With a nod, Wes dropped his hand from Nathan’s hair. Touch me again. Before he could say the words, Wes looked at his shirt. “Oh! Shit, I got you all wet.”

  “You have no idea,” Nathan said with a laugh. Setting the cups down on the food table nearby, Wes picked up a handful of napkins and began dabbing at Nathan’s shirt. “No, it’s okay,” Nathan told him, but he held his hands out at his sides to let Wes clean him up. “You don’t have to…”

  His throat closed over the words as Wes’s hands moved lower, patting the napkins at Nathan’s waist, his belt, lower still. “Jeez,” Wes muttered, wiping at the wet beer that had splashed on Nathan’s crotch. “I made a mess. God, I’m so sorry…”

  Nathan closed his eyes and imagined himself caught in those strong fingers that danced over his groin. “It’s okay,” he whispered, his voice lost in the swell of music around them. When Wes pressed the napkins to his crotch, trying to soak up the beer, Nathan gasped. How long had it been since he felt hands touching him there? “Wes,” he sighed.

  The night had just become much more interesting.

  Chapter 4

  “You want one of these?” Wes asked, handing Nathan one of the beers he’d been carrying. When Nathan reached for the cup, though, Wes pulled it back and switched hands to offer the one still full. “Here,” he said. “Take this one.”

  “I’ve already had half the other one,” Nathan joked as he took the cup.

  Wes’s smile faltered. “I know, I’m so sorry.” He patted Nathan’s stomach, where the beer was already drying into a dark patch on Nathan’s turtleneck.

  “It’s okay.” Nathan liked the way Wes’s hands felt on his body, the lack of shyness when they touched. As if they were still comfortable with each other after all this time. “Damn,” he murmured, looking Wes over again. “I haven’t seen you in ages. What the hell have you been up to lately?”

  Wes shrugged. “This and that. Nothing much. Graduated from State last May.” He paused a moment, then added shyly, “Working for a firm downtown. Um, as an architect.”

  Nathan was impressed. “That’s great.” He took a sip of the beer, surprised to find it was a little warm and not as strong as he had hoped. “So how do you know Tom?”

  “We were roommates,” Wes explained, looking around. Nathan wondered what he could say or do to get him to turn that icy gaze his way again. Look at me, he wanted to say. At ONLY me. Because I sure as hell only have eyes for you. How cheesy would that sound? But why couldn’t Cindy try to hook him up with a guy like this?

  “His last year of college,” Wes was saying. Nathan nodded to show he was listening. Really he was, he was hearing every word Wes said, even if in his mind they were naked and writhing on the futon back at his apartment. “We’ve been close ever since. He’s like a brother to me.” Then he turned toward Nathan, flashing that brilliant grin of his, the one that made Nathan’s knees weak. “Are you two friends, too?”

  “We work together,” Nathan told him. He stepped closer, leaned back, and put his hand on the table behind Wes in what he hoped looked like a casual gesture. With a laugh, he said, “Cindy’s always trying to set me up at these things. I don’t know why I even bother to come.” How about you? he wanted to ask. Does she do that to you, too?

  But Wes didn’t take the bait. “She’s a sweet girl,” he said, drinking down his beer.

  Nathan wished Wes would lean against his arm, maybe tip his head back to stare at him with those crystalline eyes of his again. A nice, coy glance as he lay his head on Nathan’s shoulder. Give him a good look at that long stretch of neck, punctuated by his Adam’s apple. Nathan imagined his lips closing over that bobbing knob in a ticklish kiss and he had to shift from one foot to the other to alleviate the sudden throbbing at his crotch.

  But Wes didn’t lean back. There was no coy glance, no encouraging signals at all. Instead he looked around the room again as if searching for something, someone… I’m right here
, Nathan wanted to say as he watched the shadows play across Wes’s face. All you ever wanted is standing right next to you.

  Before the line could slip free from Nathan’s lips and possibly ruin his chances of a good time later that evening, Wes asked, “So who’s she got you with tonight?”

  Nathan sighed, exasperated. “This guy named Herbert. God—”

  Wes choked on his beer. “Herbert? You’re joking.”

  “I wish,” Nathan muttered. “You know him?”

  “He’s nice,” Wes said with a shrug. His smile faded but his eyes still sparkled with mirth.

  Nathan grinned. “So I hear. But can I tell you a secret?”

  “Sure.”

  Nathan leaned close enough to smell the heady scent of Cool Water cologne, warm as it rose from Wes’s skin. His body rested alongside Wes’s arm and Wes didn’t move away. “He’s not my type,” Nathan whispered. He dared to raise his hand to the small of Wes’s back as if holding him in place. “Not at all.”

  Clearing his throat, Wes looked up over the rim of his cup at Nathan, straight at him, into his eyes, and Nathan held his breath. Kiss me. How could they stand this close and not kiss? Didn’t Wes feel the electricity running between them? The attraction, the pull? It’s not just me, is it? Tell me it’s not just me.

  Wes’s voice was husky when he asked, “What is your type?”

  Nathan gave him a playful nudge. “I thought you’d never ask,” he said, easing his hand around Wes’s waist.

  A look of discomfort crossed Wes’s face. “Nathan,” he started, as if about to object. Then he sighed and surprised Nathan by stepping into the span of his arm. “You want to go someplace a little quieter?”

  “Please.” Nathan slipped a finger into a belt loop on Wes’s jeans. “Lead the way.”

  Wes’s idea of quieter wasn’t what Nathan had in mind—Wes pushed through the crowds, heading for the front door, which stood open as a steady stream of people came and went from the house. Nathan tried to guide him to the stairs, and the bedrooms above he knew were probably still empty this early in the evening. Perhaps they could find a quiet room with a comfortable bed, somewhere they could lie beside each other in the dark and let their hands remember the feel of hidden flesh, let their lips remember the taste of the other. Tugging on Wes’s jeans, Nathan pointed at the steps leading to the second floor and called out, “Hey, why not…”