Guys on Top 02 - Guys on the Side (8 page)

He studied Brooks. The guy was cute, with his sandy blond dreads and easy smile, and he had a fun personality. Zach decided it might be just what he needed right now—to be around someone who worshipped
him
for a change.

“Come check with me at closing time,” Zach said. “If you’re still around.”

Brooks looked surprised, then he smiled. “Oh, I’ll still be around. Okay! I’ll check back with you later.”

“Later,” Zach said, and went off to serve a customer.

It’s just a party
, Zach told himself as he took a drink order. He wasn’t going to do anything stupid. But deep down, he knew that on some level, he wanted to get back at Corey for hurting his feelings, maybe even make
him
a little jealous when Zach told him about the party he’d gone to.

Zach recalled the words he’d spoken to Corey earlier that day during their sexual romp.

“I hate you sometimes.”

It was a terrible thing to say, and he wasn’t sure what made him say it. He loved Corey. Loved him too much, probably. But the truth was...yeah, sometimes he hated him, too. It was a definite love/hate battle when it came to his feelings for Corey, and while he knew that was a fucked up thing and not a healthy way to think, it was the truth.

And tonight, at this moment, he was not feeling the love.

****

Corey frowned with the phone to his ear. “Zach? You still there? Zachary?” Sighing, he set down his phone. “Little shit hung up on me.”

“What’s the matter now?” Doug asked.

“He’s mad because I asked him to stay at his own place tonight. He’ll get over it.”

“Uh oh,” Jairo said. “Trouble in paradise?”

“I don’t want to talk about Zach tonight,” Corey said. “I’m still too pissed off about Leonard’s son.”

“Well,” Jairo said, “I found him online. Thomas Nardovino, right?”

Jairo was seated on Corey’s sofa, a tablet computer on his lap.

“What’s it say?” Doug went and sat next to Jairo.

“He’s a mechanic,” Jairo said. “He’s got a garage in Brookline.”

“Who cares?” Corey said. “Find out if he has a criminal record, something useful.”

“I’ll try,” Jairo said. “But it looks like he’s just your standard pissed off homophobe. He lives in West Roxbury. There’s a woman listed at the same address, but different last name. Maybe a girlfriend.”

Corey went to the window when he heard the familiar sound of Stewart’s van, and watched him pull up out front. “Stewart’s here.”

Doug stood. “I’ll go down and get him.”

As Doug trampled down the stairs outside Corey’s apartment to the front door, Corey watched Stewart get out of his van.
Still fucking beautiful
, he though wistfully. A night breeze blew Stewart’s already disheveled dark hair back from his handsome face as he crossed the lawn, his crooked grin appearing when he spotted Doug walking toward him. With his stocky build, fair skin, and those midnight blue eyes, Corey had fallen for Stewart the very first night they met. Stewart looked better in jeans and a ragged tee shirt than most men did in a designer suit.

While their relationship had morphed into mostly friendship in the final months, and their last year together had been anything but monogamous, Corey still felt a slight stab of regret in his gut at the sight of his former boyfriend.

He watched as Stewart caught Doug in a playful headlock. Doug wrestled out of it, then kissed Stewart on the lips, slinging his arm over his shoulder as they walked toward the front door.
That’s the way it should be
, Corey thought. The way Doug and Stewart seemed so glad to see each other, like a couple of excited puppies after only a day spent apart—that’s how Corey wished he felt about Zachary. But he didn’t feel that way lately, and it gave him a deep melancholy, a longing for something he couldn’t quite put his finger on.

“Step away from the window, Corey,” Jairo said. “You stink of regret. I’m gonna start singing Air Supply songs in a minute.”

“Fuck you, Jairo.” Corey moved away from the window and sat in the chair next to the sofa.

“Been there,” Jairo said as he typed on the tablet. “Done that.”

“Yeah,” Corey said. “Best night of your life.”

“You wish.”

“Dig up any dirt on my nemesis yet?”

Jairo shook his head, frowning. “Seems pretty clean. Just your average dude.”

Stewart and Corey stepped into the apartment. “Hey,” Stewart said, tossing his jacket onto a chair. “Making enemies, I hear.”

Corey smiled at Stewart. “Aren’t I always?”

Doug sat next to Jairo again, and Stewart ruffled Corey’s hair before taking a seat on the floor. “Have you called Leonard yet?”

“No,” Corey said. “And I don’t intend to.”

Stewart’s nose crinkled as he frowned. “Well, why not? Call him up and tell him to straighten out his kid. That shit’s unacceptable, he’s lucky you didn’t call the cops.”

“Leonard’s a stressed out guy, and this isn’t his fault,” Corey said. “Bitching at him will only upset him, I’m not calling Leonard.”

“Here’s something interesting,” Jairo said.

Corey perked up. “Tell me Tommy’s on probation or something. Preferably for assault.”

Jairo held up a finger. “Sadly, no. You said he came in a black Corvette, right?”

Corey nodded.

“Well the only vehicle registered to Thomas Nardovino is a Ford truck. He doesn’t own a Corvette.”

Doug looked at Corey. “It must have been the other guy’s car.”

“That’s not helpful,” Corey said. “I don’t know who the other guy was. Leonard only has one son, it was probably a friend or something.”

“He was kind of cute, don’t you think?” Doug said. “The other guy? In the leather coat?”

“They were threatening my life and calling me a faggot,” Corey said. “I wasn’t exactly checking them out.”

“He seemed okay,” Doug said. “More chilled out than the other guy. I got the feeling he wasn’t thrilled to be there. And he laughed when you made fun of his coat.”

“Ooh, Corey, maybe you made a bad-boy love connection,” Jairo said.

“Please,” Corey said. “If that guy was gay, I’m the fucking pope.”

“Well you can’t be
sure
he’s straight,” Jairo said.

“He’s straight,” Doug and Corey said at the same time.

Jairo’s eyebrows rose. “Okay. Maybe you can be sure.”

“With the shit Leonard’s asshole son was saying to me, there’s no way he’d be hanging out with a gay guy, believe me,” Corey said.

“Either way, I want to know who he was, too,” Doug said. “Jairo, can you search a license plate?”

Jairo nodded. “I can indeed.”

“Wait a minute.” Corey frowned at Doug. “You got the plate number?”

Doug pointed to his temple. “Wrote it down in my head as they drove away. Figured it might come in handy if they came back or pulled any more shit.”

“Your brain is weird,” Corey said.

“Coming from you? That worries me.”

“Okay.” Jairo passed the tablet to Doug. “Type it in, right there.”

Corey glanced at Stewart as Doug typed. “You want a beer?”

“I can get it.” Stewart started to get up.

“Sit,” Corey said. “You’re a guest.”

Corey went in the kitchen and got Stewart’s beer. When he returned to the living room and handed it to him, Stewart said, “Where’s Zach?”

Corey plopped back into his chair, sighing heavily. “Working.”

“How is he?”

“Annoying.”

Stewart frowned at Corey, then shrugged, taking a sip of his beer. He knew Corey’s moods well enough not to press for more information.

“Well, well, well,” Doug said, handing the tablet back to Jairo. They both leaned in. “The black, 1968 Corvette is registered to one Angelo Nardovino.”

“Another Nardovino?” Corey got up and moved to the couch. “Scoot over,” he said, and Doug moved aside while Corey took his place.

“Must be a relative,” Jairo said. “Maybe he’s a cousin or something.”

“Give me that,” Corey said.

Jairo held the tablet out of Corey’s reach. “Rude! Say please.”

“Please.” He beckoned with his fingers. “Come on, hand it over, Jairo.”

Jairo gave him the tablet, and Corey typed ‘Angelo Nardovino – Boston’ and did an online search.

Corey’s finger hovered over one of the first results that came up.
Can’t be
.

Doug leaned against his shoulder, looking at the screen. “Nardovino, Angelo, PhD. Boston...” He looked at Corey. “Psychiatrist? That can’t be him.”

“Click it,” Jairo said, bumping Corey from the other side. “Click it!”

Corey turned to him and flicked his nose. “I will! Back out of my space, man!”

Jairo leaned his face closer. “Click. It.”

Corey clicked on the result and the page loaded. His eyes were immediately drawn to the photograph—a man in glasses wearing a suit jacket and tie. But it was him. It was definitely leather coat guy. Corey let out a breath. “Well, honk my hooters. The guy’s a fucking shrink.”

“Cut the shit!” Stewart said.

Corey turned the tablet around to show Stewart. “This is him.” He pointed to the photo. “This guy was on my lawn today, threatening to kill me.”

“
He
didn’t threaten to kill you,” Doug said. “The other one did, Tommy.”

Corey sneered at Doug. “Will you quit defending this guy? Stewart, I think your boyfriend has a crush on a man who wants to kill me.”

“I do not, I’m just saying, he was the more levelheaded of the two of them.”

“Wait a minute,” Stewart said. “Why would a professional psychiatrist be going around threatening people? That’s fucked up.”

“It is indeed, but threaten he did.” Corey grinned as an idea emerged. “Wouldn’t be good for business if people knew what
Doctor
Nardovino was doing in his spare time.”

“Uh oh,” Stewart said. “I know that look.”

Corey smiled. “I think I may have to pay the good doctor a visit. See what his prognosis is when I tell him I feel like someone’s out to get me.”

Jairo poked Corey’s cheek. “You are
not
!”

Corey held his hands up. “Would you...” He looked at Doug. “Would
both
of you please get out of my space? I feel like I’m in a dumbass sandwich.”

Doug and Jairo got up off the sofa. Jairo took the chair, and Doug sat on the floor between Stewart’s legs. “Seriously, Corey,” Doug said. “I think you should just let it go. I doubt they’ll be back, anyway, and if they do come back, you call the cops this time.”

“Hmm...” Corey studied the screen. “One of his specialties is grief counseling. Maybe I’ll go in and say my goldfish died.”

“He’s not serious,” Jairo said, looking at Doug, then Stewart.

Stewart chuckled. “Ah, yeah. I’m afraid he is. Once Corey gets an idea in his head, it rarely just goes away. And the thing he hates most is when someone tries to get the better of him.”

“Please stop talking about me like I’m not in the room,” Corey said.

“What exactly are you planning to do?” Doug asked Corey. “For real.”

Corey looked at Doug. “I’m going to do to him what they tried to do to me today.”

Doug scowled. “What does that mean?”

“I’m gonna scare the fucking crap out of him.” Corey handed the tablet back to Jairo. “And I’m gonna see how he likes it when someone walks into his place of business and tells him what he should and shouldn’t do, and then I’m gonna see how he likes it when I threaten to expose his little stunt today.”

“Hey, Corey,” Jairo said. “You were gonna be a psychiatrist once, weren’t you?”

“Was,” Corey said. “Until I got kicked out of medical school for practicing without a license.”

“But still, you’ve got skills, you could totally fuck with this guy’s head.”

“Don’t encourage him, Jairo!” Doug said.

Stewart reached an arm toward Jairo. “Can I see that?”

“Sure.” Jairo handed the tablet over.

“I have no intention of comparing psychological cock size with the guy,” Corey said. “I just want him to know I’ve got his number. So he’d better get himself and the other Nardovinos in line.”

Stewart let out a giggle, shaking his head as he scanned the tablet.

“What’s so funny?” Doug asked, leaning back into him.

Stewart looked up at Corey. “This is
weird
.”

Corey shrugged. “What?”

Stewart laughed again. “This guy is basically you, Corey, if you’d never left school and had finished your degree. He’s the same age. Lives in the neighborhood, not far from here. Even drives a vintage two-seater sports car like you do.”

Jairo’s eyes widened. “Oh my God, you’re right. Except he’s straight. And Italian. And Corey’s gay. And German.”

Stewart pointed at Jairo. “I know! Right?”

“That guy is
nothing
like me,” Corey said.

“No, seriously, think about it,” Stewart said. “You quit school. He finished. You’re gay. He’s straight. You’re light. He’s dark. You drive a similar car, but yours is blue. His is black. He’s...he’s like...”

Jairo jumped up. “He’s Alternate Universe Corey!”

“Yes!” Stewart belly laughed, falling back onto the floor. “He is! He’s Alternate Universe Corey. Oh my God.”

Corey stood. “You guys are out of your minds. I’m getting a beer.” Corey’s phone quacked on the end table, indicating an incoming text, so he picked it up.

“Hey,” Doug said. “Even your phone’s calling you a quack. Rough day, bro.”

Corey shot him a look. “You’re hilarious.”

Jairo pantomimed a beak in front of his face. “Quack! Quack!”

Corey made his way into the kitchen, sticking his middle finger up behind his back, then opened the fridge and pulled out a beer. After uncapping the beer, he leaned over on the counter and checked his text message. It was from Zach.

‘
I’m going to a party after work. Wanted to let you know in case you called. I’m shutting my phone off
.’

Corey frowned at the phone. Not a big deal, he supposed. If Zach wanted to go to an after-hours party, that was his business. But it felt strange. Why had Zach made a point of letting Corey know? They hadn’t made plans to talk again tonight.

Uneasiness gripped his gut. Things were unsettled with Zach right now, sure, but Corey certainly wasn’t ready to throw in the towel. They just needed to make some changes, and he was willing to keep trying if Zach was. But he sensed anger in that text, a definite
fuck you
behind the innocuous words.