Heart on the Run (20 page)

Wincing as the soaked cotton ball dabbed at the head injury, Chaz shifted on the seat. Every movement was an uncomfortable reminder of the night before…of Sprocket and those hot, wild moments when they’d been joined together. Which immediately led to the humiliating moment of discovery this morning when Mason—a thoroughly naked Mason—strolled into Sprocket’s bedroom. “There’s no need.”

“
There’s plenty of need.” She tossed a wad of bloody cotton into the biohazard container by the desk and picked up a strip of butterfly bandages. “Good news is I don’t think you need stitches.”

“
Great.” It sure as hell felt like he needed stitches. Not in his head though. No, another equally vital body part seemed to be draining his life blood through a huge gash.
Fucking melodramatic twit.
“Thanks, Macy.” He clasped her hand as she finished closing his head injury. “You’re the best.”

“
No worries, sweetie. You haven’t had an off day since you started working here. He knows that too.” She jerked her head in the direction of a scowling Dermot at the other end of the kitchen.

“
Think my job is still safe, then?” He tried to joke, but from the way her eyes widened in surprise, he guessed it had fallen way short.

“
Of course it is.” Macy squeezed his hand then stood, knees popping. “Now, go get that yummy, tattooed hunk of yours and grab some coffee and a walk in the park—”

It was like a knife to the gut, a sudden, sharp thrust of pain that reduced his throbbing head to nothing more than a papercut. His expression must have betrayed him too.

“
Oh,” Macy whispered, sympathy drenching that one syllable. “Chaz—”

“
Not going to happen.” He struggled to lighten his voice, smooth his expression. Because they all knew what had happened the year before, the frantic hookup he and Sprocket had engaged in the night of the fire. And they all knew that afterward… Afterward, Chaz couldn’t even look his friend in the eye.

Severing all ties with Sprocket might have been the best thing for both of them, but it hadn’t been easy.
And you should have left well enough alone.

“
I…we…all thought you two had worked things out.”

“
There are some things you just can’t work out or get over.” He stood, shoving the desk chair backward. “I’m going to get some fresh air, maybe grab a smoke down at the tobacconist.”

“
That shit kills your palate!” Dermot roared, making it clear that, even from the other end of the big kitchen, he’d followed every word.

“
Right,” he muttered. “Just the fresh air, then.”

***

Sprocket reclined on the park bench, his arms settled across the top of it. He usually didn’t work the day after Halloween. Even with his youthful twenty-three years, he still needed one day to recoup from his serious spooky partying ways. Even if he hadn’t been a partyer for a long time and nothing spooked him last night. Hell, a day off was a day off.

Sprocket had planned to spend today with Chaz, prepping for the holiday party tomorrow. It seemed way too early to have a Christmas party—normally they’d wait until at least December—but Xander and Dermot were hell-bent on throwing one big bash combining the two holidays.

From what Sprocket knew, the menu was completely prepared, the fridge and freezer in his garage packed with groceries Chaz bought throughout the past couple of weeks. Sprocket was sure half the food would end up in Ziploc baggies because there was no way they would eat all of that in one night, but Chaz insisted on going big.

Just like he insisted on going big when he walked out on Sprocket Thursday morning. No, not walked…Chaz didn’t walk, he ran. And he didn’t look back, if this past year was anything to go by.

Sprocket didn’t want to repeat. Sure, it wasn’t like he wasted the whole year pining for Chaz. He had his fun, but underneath it all, one bit of fun never strayed too far from his mind. Not this time. Not again.

Was it Sprocket’s fault that Mason walked into his room without knocking? No. Well, maybe. Sometimes they knocked, sometimes they didn’t, it happened. There was no die-hard rule; he’d never told Mason to respect boundaries because they’d never had a need for boundaries.

Was it Sprocket’s fault that he and Mason lost their virginity to each other? No. They were kids. Was he supposed to save himself for Chaz? If that was the case, he had some bad news for the snobbish sous chef. Hell, he hadn’t even been celibate for the ten months since their first hookup.

Hookup.

That was what he had to keep thinking these past weeks were…just a simple, fun hookup. Maybe a bit more than fun, but still.

Shit…it wasn’t even weeks, no ‘s.’ It had only been a little over one week of the best sex imaginable. Chaz’s body responded so beautifully to Sprocket, like they’d choreographed their moves to be as fluid and perfect as possible. God, it felt like they’d been together for longer than weeks, longer than months. It was so natural with them, and not just the physical, either. Anything they did just flowed. They were always in tune with one another, from making decorations to maneuvering through a haunted house. Even their simple walks to the park for break, the too few times they did that, were seamless. No questions needed to be asked; they automatically headed for the same spot if the gazebo was already occupied.

Chemistry.

Two hands landed on Sprocket’s shoulders and massaged. The pressure gradually morphed from a light touch to a deeper rub.

“
Hey, Mase.”

“
Sprocks,” Mason countered, pecking him on the side of his neck before circling around the bench and sitting. “The decorations are all in place, minus the gnome that you nixed.”

“
Thanks, didn’t have to do that.”

Mason waved his hand in the air. “It was nothing. So, you’ve been here all morning?”

A simple nod answered Mason’s question, considering Sprocket wasn’t in a chatty mood.

“
Just sitting here, staring at the gazebo…” Mason sighed and Sprocket wondered if he had time to pull a Chaz and run away from the conversation he knew was imminent. “Do you think he comes here thinking of you?”

Evidently, no, he didn’t have the time to run.

“
I doubt he does much thinking of me period.”

Mason took his turn to slowly nod. “Yet you’re still giving him hours of your day?”

“
Can I help you with something?” Sprocket finally gave in and turned toward his best friend.

“
I’ll apologize if it takes your pain away,” whispered Mason.

Sprocket shook his head. “You and I both know this isn’t your fault. Hell, I’m tempted to almost say it isn’t my fault or even Chaz’s.”

“
Shit…the very first completely innocent break-up ever recorded in the history of man.”

Though he didn’t feel like laughing, Sprocket couldn’t help but chuff over Mason’s declaration. “Nothing so dramatic, stop watching TNT.”

“
Damn. I was going for the other side of the theatrical spectrum, comedy.”

“
Ahh. You missed the mark.” Sprocket folded his arms across his chest and stared at the park with the kids running around in their coats and the moms watching them from the sidelines. “He didn’t even give me a chance to explain. He convicted me on your actions and something that happened years ago.”

“
Uh?” Mason turned toward him, though Sprocket didn’t meet his gaze. “Something that happened years ago?”

“
Yeah,” Sprocket sighed, letting his chin drop to his chest. “He kinda asked about our relationship…”

“
Because he didn’t know we were best friends and roommates?” Some people did sarcasm well; Mason owned his own sarcasm font.

“
He asked if we’d ever slept together,” Sprocket admitted.

Mason snorted. “I would’ve answered him in quantity and quality, thank you very much.”

Sprocket did look at his best friend on that comment, raising his eyebrow and smirking. “Really?”

Mason shrugged. “Sure, why not, it’s the truth.”

“
So, if you were in a relationship—”

It was his best friend’s turn to raise his brow and smirk. “Were you two in a relationship? Is that what those days were?”

Ouch.

But he wouldn’t let Mason deter him from his thought, so he continued, raising his voice slightly to make a point. “If you were with someone, would you admit to sleeping with your roommate on a casual basis?”

His point was obviously made, because Mason’s face softened. “No. I’d keep it quiet. Only because I know that we”—he swung his finger between the two of them—“don’t play together when one of us is with someone else. But some people wouldn’t understand that. You know those damn gays can’t keep it in their pants.” Mason bumped their shoulders before looking forward like he was. “So what, you told him we’d slept together?”

“
Worse.” Sprocket closed his eyes.

“
I’m lost. What’s worse than telling your lover that your roommate is a casual lover also?”

“
Telling your lover that you and your roommate lost your virginity to each other.”

“
Shit.” Mason whistled.

“
Yeah. I think that pushed him over the line.” He growled. “I’m being persecuted for something I did when I was a kid. We were fucking fifteen years old.”

“
Literally.”

Snorting, Sprocket agreed, “Yeah.” His voice sobered with his next question. “How am I going to get through tomorrow?”

“
Tell me, do you want a relationship with cheffie boy?”

Sprocket breathed deeply, sitting back and staring at the gazebo. He could see them sitting on ol’ purple eating sandwiches and laughing. Chaz’s eyes always lit up when he smiled. He couldn’t help it; it was like a switch from his mouth to his eyes.

“
Yes or no?” Mason prodded.

“
Sometimes you have to break a bad habit before it gets worse.” Sprocket stood and looked at his best friend. “No…no, I don’t.”

Chapter Fifteen

“
What’re these again?” Macy pulled a tray of toasts out of Sprocket’s huge oven and set them on the counter.

“
Butternut squash crostini.” Chaz didn’t glance up from where he was piping creamed potatoes into little puffs on top of roasted turkey cubes. “Just put a bit of that cranberry chutney on each one, then top them with a walnut piece, and they can go out to the hors d’oeuvre table in the living room.”

“
Got it, boss. I have to tell you—” Macy bustled about behind him, following directions. “I don’t know how all this tastes, but it smells awesome.”

Chaz finished the potatoes and started sticking toothpicks through each bite-size portion. “I hope Dermot thinks so. He’s said that if my food is impressive tonight, he’ll let me start planning the lunch specials so he can take two real days off.”

Macy squealed. “Really? That’s great! Chaz, this is an incredible opportunity.”

“
Yeah,” he replied, pouring a puddle of gravy into a shallow platter. “It’s the chance I’ve been waiting for.”

“
Then why don’t you sound happier about it?”

Because happy starts in the heart, and mine has a big-ass, Sprocket-sized hole in it.
“I’ll be happy when the food is all out and Dermot loves it.”

“
He will,” Macy reassured him. “How does this look?” She tilted a tray of crostini in front of him at an angle that allowed him to see each carefully engineered delicacy.