Heat Stroke (Beach Kingdom, #2)(33)

“Actually, it’s kind of helping. Right now, the future is this huge blank spot. I don’t even know enough to imagine what could happen.” He scratched the back of his neck and Jamie caught the scent of menthol and hops. “I’m sorry it didn’t happen the way it should have for you. But after everything, you turned into Jamie Prince.” He sent a lopsided grin in Jamie’s direction and Jamie tried not to be obvious that his heart was lodged in his mouth. “We should all be so lucky.”

Oh fuck. I’m going to kiss him.

Mistake or not, he didn’t have a choice.

Jamie wet his lips and Marcus’s eyes darkened. They leaned in—

And the wheels of the train screeched, the conductor’s voice coming over the loudspeaker to announce their arrival at Atlantic Terminal. They both breathed heavily into the scant space separating their mouths, but surprisingly, Marcus was the one to pull back. He closed his eyes for a moment, exhaled and stood, edging past Jamie to the aisle. Jamie followed, feeling like he’d been hit in the back of the head by a metal bat.

They walked in silence to the Lounge, a gastropub in Greenpoint that Jamie had picked because he thought Marcus would be comfortable there. There were flat screens on the wall playing sports in the front bar area, but they also had a pretentious cocktail list and clustered couches in the back. The best of both worlds. Kind of like Marcus.

Jamie tried to center himself as they walked through the busy establishment. The gastropub was an eclectic mix of Brooklynites. Sitting at the bar, there was a date between two women taking place. Beside them, young professionals sipped pints, still wearing suits and ties from their downtown Manhattan jobs. College students filled in the gaps, talking loudly to be heard over the music. The bartender signaled Jamie. Jamie pointed at the back of the bar and they were waved through the black drape that sectioned off the lounge.

The character definitely changed as soon as they were on the other side of the curtain. Grew darker, more intimate. Jamie battled the impulse to drag Marcus back out onto the street. For one thing, Marcus was frowning with his body turned in toward Jamie, like a hired bodyguard. Second, he could see the pulse in Marcus’s throat jumping around in a scattered pattern, so he knew the bluster was all for show. The guy was nervous. Maybe he’d suggested this hangout way too soon—

“Jamie. Hey.”

Jamie turned to find Kurt approaching and sensed Marcus tensing. “Hey Kurt.”

They gave each other a hesitant one-armed hug and Jamie stepped back, uncomfortable over even that small gesture in front of Marcus, which boded really fucking well. “This is my friend, Marcus.”

Kurt put out his hand instead of going in for a hug, correctly interpreting Marcus’s mood. “Hey,” Marcus said, clearing his throat hard. “It’s uh…nice to meet you, man.”

Jamie glanced over at Marcus in surprise. Marcus raised an eyebrow back at him. I’m trying, mouthed. For you.

Heart rattling in his ears, Jamie followed Kurt to the low couches where his friends were seated in a darker area lit with flickering candles. There was one man slightly younger than Kurt…and another guy who appeared much younger and wouldn’t meet anyone’s eyes. Everyone shook hands and Kurt gestured for Jamie to sit down—in a spot on the opposite couch from Marcus. Jamie and Marcus stared at each other for a heavy beat and they took their seats, watching each other across the stainless steel block serving as a table.

“So, I hope you don’t mind,” Kurt said, sending an affable wave at the waitress. “I kind of read between the lines when you called and asked to bring your friend.” He nodded subtly at the younger man sitting to the left of Marcus. “My nephew, Adam, is in a similar situation and I thought they’d be made comfortable in each other’s presence. He’s not ready for anything serious, but I thought maybe they could form a friendship?”

Jamie gave a jerky nod, but his mouth had gone dry. Stop, asshole. This is what you wanted. He’d brought Marcus along for exactly this kind of interaction. There was virtually no pressure and Kurt’s nephew was in the same boat. Struggling. Marcus could probably benefit from meeting Adam more that he could benefit from spending time with Jamie.

“Did I overstep?”

Kurt had obviously misconstrued Jamie’s silence for disapproval, so he shook his head. “No, I think that was a great idea.”

But five minutes later when Marcus and Adam starting talking, a chord of jealousy was plucked in Jamie’s stomach and it resonated, growing louder. Louder. He tried to focus on his conversation with Kurt—something about Long Beach real estate prices—but every few minutes, Marcus would glance over at Jamie with an unreadable expression and he’d lose his train of thought.

Needing to do something proactive so he wouldn’t ask to speak to Marcus outside and wear the fucking face off him with a kiss, Jamie ordered a round of drinks from the waitress. When he normally would have drunk a beer, Jamie put away a tumbler of whiskey in short order and asked for another one. Was it his imagination or had Adam and Marcus moved closer on the couch?

He was so preoccupied with what was happening on the other side of the table, Jamie barely noticed when Kurt laid a hand on his knee, without breaking stride in their conversation. It was almost conspiratorial, friendly, and Jamie was too focused on the proximity between Adam and Marcus to react. What was a hand on the knee when his stomach felt like it was being twisted in a fist?