Looking for Trouble(60)

But as gorgeous as Dylan looked, it made Clay feel more out of place. Like he would stick out being the older man with gray at his temples, trying to fit in with a bunch of guys in their mid-twenties. Some guys went for older men, of course. Clay had seen it. He’d been to enough clubs and bars when he’d wanted to find someone to fuck, but he’d never been that guy. He’d never been in love with someone twenty years younger than him, and for the first time, he wished he hadn’t backed away from the friends he and Gordon had had. He didn’t know any men his age anymore. He didn’t have friends his own age…he didn’t have friends at all. Other than Renée, at least.

“Why do you look like someone forced you to suck on a lemon?” Dylan asked, turning toward him. He was in the bathroom, finishing messing up his hair in a sexy way Clay didn’t understand, and Clay was just standing there watching him.

He shrugged, but couldn’t hold back the smile that tugged at his lips when he looked at Dylan. “You.”

“See something you like?” Dylan fluttered his lashes. Christ, that got to him.

“You know I do.”

Dylan walked over and wrapped his arms around Clay’s shoulders. “It’ll be fine, Nervous Eyes. Who knows…it might even be fun.”

“Nervous eyes?” Clay asked.

“Eh. Won’t stick, but it fits at the moment.”

“I know it will.”

“Will what? Fit? You foresee more nerves in your future?”

He shook his head. “No, smart-ass. I know it’ll be fine.”

“Not fun?” Dylan asked, running this hands through Clay’s hair.

“You’re fun. Being with you is fun.”

“See? It’s perfect, then, because I’ll be there.”

He laughed before kissing Dylan. “You’re ridiculous.”

“I know you are, but what am I?” Dylan winked.

Clay took a quick leak, washed his hands, and looked at himself in the mirror. He’d gotten a haircut too, and somehow it made the gray around his temples more noticeable. It wasn’t a lot of gray, really. It wasn’t something he paid much attention to, but tonight he was pretty sure he carried a neon sign pointing to it.

He wore a simple black tee and a pair of blue jeans. He hadn’t trimmed his facial hair because Dylan liked him scruffy, and he liked it when Dylan liked how he looked.

He didn’t look bad. He knew that. He was athletic, fit, he’d turned plenty of heads in his time, but…well, fuck. He didn’t know. He was losing his shit for no damn reason.

“You ready?” Dylan poked his head around the corner and into the bathroom.

“Yep. Let’s do this. I’ll stay sober and drive so you can have fun with your friends.”

“They’re not my friends. I know Troy. I’ll be just as new to them as you will, and maybe after tonight, they’ll be our friends.”

Clay glanced at the photo of Gordon on their way out. Gordon had thrived in any situation in a way Clay never had. He would have embraced this night. He would have had fun. Wherever in the universe Gordon was, Clay knew he was laughing at him and cheering them on.

Which was what Dylan deserved. He vowed to himself that he was going to work hard to enjoy himself and to give the night a chance.

It took them about thirty minutes to get to Raleigh. They were meeting at a restaurant called Flip, which was about a block from the bar they were attending. It wasn’t the same one he’d met Dylan at all those months ago. From what he’d heard, it was more of a younger crowd.

They parked and were walking toward the red-brick building when he heard Troy call out, “Dylan! Clay!”

They turned to see Troy jogging across the street with two other men, who looked to be in their mid-twenties at most.

“Hey!” Dylan and Troy hugged before Troy glanced at Clay as if he wasn’t sure what to do. “Hi, Clay. I’m glad you could come with us tonight.”

“Yeah…me too. Thanks for asking.” Clay ran a hand through his hair just as Dylan leaned in and rested his head on Clay’s shoulder.

“This is our first time out as a couple…or I guess out at all.”

Troy chuckled. “Well, we’ll have to be sure to show you guys a good time. Dylan, Clay, this is Elijah.” He pointed to the guy beside him with rich, brown skin and buzzed black hair. “And this is Gideon.” He nodded toward the blond. “Eli and Gideon, this is Dylan and Clay.”

“Hey, nice to meet you guys,” they both said, and he and Dylan returned the sentiment.

“Come on, let’s eat. I’m starved,” Troy said as he led them toward the restaurant.

“Ugh. I miss carbs. It’s been so fucking long since I’ve had them,” Gideon added.

“You’re dieting?” Clay asked. He was petite, even smaller than Dylan. Why would the kid be dieting?

“It’s not easy for a girl to keep this figure.” He winked playfully at Clay.

He just…didn’t get it. He knew things were different for their generation, and again, it wasn’t that he didn’t keep himself fit. He ate well and exercised, but it just felt different. Maybe he was being an ass.

“I was blessed with a speedy metabolism,” Dylan said.

“Ugh. I hate you already,” Gideon replied.