Secrets in edgewood the.., p.53
Secrets in Edgewood: The Complete Series, page 53
“I don’t do relationships.”
“I know. You’ve made that clear.”
“And I don’t fuck people I can see myself having relationships with.”
“Oh.” Graham rubbed his hands on his knees.
“And you’re definitely not ready for a relationship,” Emory summarized, a sad, yet knowing look in his eyes.
“Was it the spritzers?” Graham chuckled.
Emory smiled. “That’s the least of it, tiger.”
“I don’t know what to do then. I know that I want you.” Graham palmed his growing cock to demonstrate what he’d said. “But I can’t say if he didn’t come back to me I wouldn’t take him back.”
“As is the way of it.”
“Maybe it’s best if we stop pretend dating then,” he suggested helpfully.
Emory rolled his eyes, a smile pulling at his mouth. “You just put that together?”
Graham hated the conflicting emotions that played across Emory’s face, and he hated that it was his own indecision that had caused the handsome and charismatic young man so much confusion.
Emory stood up and grabbed his jacket, slipping it back up his shoulders with a jerky shrug. “I’m gonna go then.”
He lingered and Graham reached for him, fingers clasping around Emory’s pinky finger to stall his movement. What he was about to propose was probably the worst idea he’d ever had, but there wasn’t much blood left in his brain and after three months of only fucking his hand, he was nearly desperate for contact.
And Emory was there, and he smelled so good.
“What if we only do it once?”
Emory’s head snapped to the side, his nostrils flaring and his eyes wide.
“Sorry. What?”
Graham stood up and pulled Emory back to his chest, his nose assuming its already familiar position against Graham’s sternum.
“One time,” he murmured into Emory’s hair. “And that’s it. The end of it.”
“One time,” Emory repeated.
“And you’ll never see me again.”
Emory’s shoulders heaved with his breathing and his nose rubbed against Graham’s chest. Graham didn’t push for an answer, his hands unmoving against the cold leather of Emory’s jacket. Without a word, Emory stepped away and let his jacket fall down his arms. He pulled his white t-shirt over his head and blinked up at Graham, his eyes equal parts eager and disappointed.
“Alright,” he agreed. “Let’s make a bad decision together.”
Graham advanced, scooping Emory into his arms and lifting him off his feet. Emory gasped, and Graham slammed their mouths back together, continuing his exploration of Emory’s mouth. It wasn’t necessary, though; none of this was necessary, the touching, the kissing, the heavy sighs. Graham didn’t need to learn the topography of Emory’s body, and at this rate, it would be better if he didn’t.
His mind was already pulling parallels that didn’t exist, the sharp angles of Emory’s shoulder blades compared to the muscular curves of Calvin’s back. The compact feel of Emory’s mouth against his was nothing like the demanding way that Calvin used to swallow down his demands.
“Not like this then,” Graham whispered, spinning Emory so his chest was pressed against the stacks of payroll files on his desk.
“There’s one good decision.” Emory worked open his belt and dropped his pants to his knees.
The pale globes of his ass came into view, and Graham’s breath caught in his throat. Another comparison. Graham fisted Emory’s ass in his hands and kneaded his flesh, pulling his cheeks apart to reveal his twitching pucker.
“Your ass is gorgeous,” Graham admitted, dropping to his knees and licking Emory from his balls to his spine.
Emory’s knees trembled and knocked against Graham’s desk.
“Don’t say things like that, tiger,” he rasped. He adjusted his cock so it was angled down, pressed against the wood of Graham’s desk. Emory’s cock was thick and swollen, the tip shiny with precum. Graham forced his face between Emory’s legs and licked him clean.
“Reach over the desk,” Graham grunted. “There’s lube in there.”
“Condoms?” Emory asked, rifling around and dropping the lube near Graham’s hand.
Fuck.
He and Calvin hadn’t used condoms in years. Even if there was one in the desk, it wouldn’t be good anymore.
“Shit.”
“Inside pocket of my jacket.” Emory used his ass to push Graham away.
He scrambled backward, grabbing Emory’s jacket and fishing a condom out of the pocket. Ripping it open with his teeth, he held the package in his mouth while he tore his slacks open to expose his erection. He quickly unrolled the condom down his length and turned back to Emory, who had two of his own fingers buried to the knuckle in his ass.
“Jesus,” Graham exhaled, returning to Emory and swatting his hand away.
“No,” Emory moved his hand back into place, pushing his fingers back inside. “I’ve got this.”
Graham watched while Emory loosened himself up, wondering why he had pushed him off. Maybe this entire thing was too bad of an idea and Emory was trying to come up with a way to back out before Graham really and truly touched him.
“Alright.” Emory pulled his fingers out and grabbed the edge of Graham’s desk for support. “I’m ready.”
Graham picked up the lube and slicked himself, lining up with Emory’s hole. He paused, the weight of the moment heavier than he’d expected. This was it. It had been eleven years of Calvin. Only Calvin. Graham closed his eyes against the betrayal, squeezing his hand tighter around his cock.
“Second thoughts?” Emory asked with a quick glance over his shoulder.
Graham nodded.
“We don’t need to. Remember, this was your idea.”
“I want to,” Graham assured him, reaching out and stroking his hand across the small of Emory’s back. “But it’s a lot.”
Emory shifted his weight, his cock snapping toward his stomach, a slick mark left against Graham’s desk in its wake. Emory reached down with one hand and pulled up his briefs, turning to face Graham while he buttoned up his pants.
Graham closed his eyes and stared at the floor while Emory moved around him to collect his shirt to redress.
“I’m sorry,” Graham whispered.
Emory’s feet appeared in front of his, and his hands moved between their bodies, rolling the condom off Graham’s flagging erection and shoving it into his own pocket. He tucked Graham back into his pants and zipped him up, patting his stomach when he was situated.
“No you’re not,” Emory replied quietly, “but you would have been.”
Emory walked away, his feet retreating toward the door, but the door didn’t open. Graham forced himself to look over his shoulder, relieved to find a look of understanding on Emory’s face, not disgust or jealousy.
“It’s better this way,” Emory assured him. “You go figure out what’s going on in your heart, tiger. You know how to find me if you ever get it sorted, okay?”
Graham closed his eyes and nodded.
The door opened and closed, and when Graham looked back, Emory was gone.
An hour later when he returned to his rented apartment, Graham was surprised to find Calvin’s car alongside the curb. Graham hesitated, the car in park and his hand on the handle, not able to push the door open. Calvin’s driver’s door opened and he stepped out, familiar broad body a welcome—and unwelcome—sight after the night he’d had.
Graham was shaking, and Calvin was at his door, opening it from the outside before he could stop him.
“What are you doing here?” he choked out.
Calvin sighed and ran a hand through his hair, looking from the sidewalk to the front door. “I wanted to talk to you. Do you think I can come in?”
Graham was still on edge from the encounter with Emory, his arousal barely held at bay and his thoughts scattered. Inhaling the crisp and clean scent of Calvin’s soap was enough to send him into overdrive and he knew being in an enclosed space was a bad idea.
“Are you here to say you want to try again?” he asked instead, turning his body so his feet were planted to the driveway, his ass still in his seat.
“Not exactly.”
“Then no.”
“That’s…fair, I suppose.”
“What did you want to talk about?” he asked, not able to look Calvin in the face. The guilt over what could have been was too much to bear. What had he been thinking approaching Emory in the first place the night before? His heart was so fully entangled with Calvin’s he should have known better. He felt like an asshole and he needed to tell Calvin what he’d done.
“Have you seen anyone else? Since you moved out?” Calvin sounded nervous, and Graham looked up, his face unreadable.
“I haven’t slept with anyone.”
Calvin chuckled. “But you’ve wanted to?”
“I haven’t not wanted to.”
“Word games, again?” Calvin kicked his shoe.
“I can’t,” Graham growled, unfolding himself from the car and pressing into Calvin’s space. They were nose to nose and Calvin’s eyes looked tired. Graham shoved his hands into his pockets so he wouldn’t reach out to touch. “Even if I wanted to fuck someone, I can’t because no one is you.”
Calvin frowned. “Have you tried?”
“Yeah.”
Calvin remained silent, and Graham’s world crumbled around him. “Is that why you’re here? You want to tell me you’ve slept with someone else?”
“I haven’t.” Calvin scratched the back of his neck. “But I’ve met someone and I think I’d like to see if it turns into anything.”
“And why are you telling me?” Graham spat. He slammed his door closed and stepped away from Calvin, jogging to the porch. He dropped his head against the red front door, key in the lock, but unturned.
“You’re my husband.” Calvin’s breath was hot against his ear. He must have been on Graham’s heels.
“On paper,” he whispered, fight leaving him.
Calvin breathed against his ear, their bodies inches from touching, but it might as well have been miles.
“I haven’t been your husband for a long time, you know that. We were friends, Cal. Friends who lived together.” Graham risked further heartbreak, turning so his back was against the door and his face even with Calvin’s.
"That’s not what I wanted from you.”
“That’s just what happened,” Graham bitterly repeated the words Calvin had offered him before they’d agreed to separate.
“We tried to get it back, Graham,” Calvin pleaded. “We tried, didn’t we?”
Graham swallowed. “We tried.”
“I can’t ever replace you, or replace what we had, but if we’re separated, isn’t this what we’re supposed to do?”
“Good luck,” Graham laughed, a bitter and acidic sound. “It’s not as easy as you think it is.”
“And you know,” Calvin said softly.
“I can’t forget you, Cal. I’ve tried. I can’t look at another man without seeing all the ways he isn’t you. I don’t know how to not be with you, but if you’re figured out how to not be with me, then by all means, why are you even here?”
“It’s not like that. I don’t know how to not be with you at all! Isn’t this how I’m supposed to find out?” Calvin stepped back and scrubbed his hands down his face.
"I’d rather have what we had than someone new.” Graham thumped his head against the door.
“Don’t settle.” Calvin’s lips were pulled tight in a sharp, straight line.
“I never did,” Graham reminded him. “Even when things had cooled, I always loved you. Good luck on your date, Cal.”
Graham faced the door and turned the key, opening the door enough to squeeze through. He slammed it closed and stared out the peephole, watching Calvin’s slumped and retreating form until he disappeared onto the street.
Six
Calvin
Almost twenty-four hours later, and Calvin knew he shouldn’t have gone to see Graham. The feelings of familiarity and desire flamed under his skin as soon as they were in touching distance, but he knew better than to reach out. Being without Graham hadn’t gotten easier, and while he knew trying to get Emory to agree to go out with him was an awful idea, he couldn’t stop thinking about the way his pale skin disappeared into the fine silk of his suit.
Emory struck Calvin as someone who could make him forget, and that was what he wanted. Needed.
Sleeping with a coworker or employee was always ill-advised. Dating an employee even more so, but Calvin’s year had been nothing more than a series of bad decisions and terrible choices, so he didn’t see the harm in asking. He saw the way Emory looked at him, the way his eyes had lingered a little too long and a little too low.
Graham’s words from the night before echoed in his head, and now he doubted if he’d be able to go through with it, even if he convinced Emory to go out with him.
“Need anything else before I take off?” Emory stopped in the doorway of Calvin’s office, crossing one foot over the other at the ankle and leaning against the doorjamb. He was in another suit today. Three piece, dark blue with a different pink tie. Calvin glanced down at his own black and gray suit and sighed.
“Yeah, actually.” He beckoned Emory into his office. “If you have a minute, come in and close the door.”
Emory’s eyes briefly widened, but he closed the door and stepped inside.
“What’s up?”
“Do you have any plans tonight?” Calvin asked, swallowing down his nervousness.
“Nooo.” Emory tilted his head and narrowed his eyes.
“Do you want to go grab a drink?”
“Like a work drink?”
“If you like.” Calvin was doing his best to play it safe in the event he had completely misread the looks Emory had been giving him the past two days.
“If I don’t?” Emory raised a brow.
“Then it doesn’t need to be a work drink.”
A smile pulled at the corner of Emory’s lips. “Are you propositioning me?”
“I’m asking if you’d like to get a drink.”
“A non-work related drink.”
“A drink,” Calvin clarified.
“Where would we get this drink at?”
“Wherever you want.” Calvin cleared his throat, his voice gruff.
“I don’t date.” Emory stood up and smoothed a hand down the front of his vest.
“I’m not looking to date, I mean, that’s not necessarily my end goal.”
“Hmn.” Emory smirked. “I’m getting the distinct impression my boss is trying to fuck me.”
Calvin’s throat flamed above his collar from the embarrassment of being called out. Maybe this was wrong. He knew better than to shit where he ate.
“MacKenzie’s at seven,” Emory said, striding toward the door and gripping the handle.
“That’s the next town over.”
“Would you rather get caught out with me here and explain why you’re sitting far too close to your new paralegal?”
“Right.” Calvin nodded. “Seven at MacKenzie’s.”
“See ya, boss.” Emory saluted him and slipped out the door.
Calvin let out a long breath and glanced at his watch. It was before six. He packed up his laptop and some files and decided to go home and change out of his suit into something a little more casual. However, half an hour later, in front of his closet, he was faced again with his new dilemma.
He was pretty certain by now he was boring.
Maybe if he wasn’t so boring, things with Graham could have worked.
Eleven years was a long time, and while they hadn’t grown apart, they’d grown complacent in their life together. They didn’t go on dates anymore or make time for each other. Sex was perfunctory and mechanical…it was as though all the things they’d loved so much from the start of their relationship were gone.
They’d tried to have another go at it, scheduling time for dates, trying new things in bed, but nothing had clicked and they’d always found themselves back in the same rut and routine. The decision to separate had been agonizing for them both, neither really wanting it, but Calvin not wanting merely a roommate for the rest of his life even more. He wanted Graham back, wanted his husband back, and if they couldn’t get there, then…
Calvin pulled a long sleeve gray t-shirt off a hanger and slipped it over his head. He sat on the edge of his bed and laced up his sneakers, grabbing his wallet and phone before heading out the door.
“What’s a fancy attorney like you doing in a dive like this?” Emory purred in his ear. His breath was hot and his words were laced with an intent that had Calvin’s cock thickening against his leg.
“Looking for trouble, I think.”
Emory nodded in agreement and slipped into the empty seat across from Calvin with a mischievous smile. Calvin had deliberately picked a booth in the far corner of the bar, hoping for as much obstruction as possible. Every second that he waited was another second guess if this was the worst idea ever.
“Do you always try to sleep with your new hires?” Emory grinned, indicating the comment wasn’t meant maliciously.
“Actually, no.”
“Are you saying I’m special?” Emory batted his lashes and reached for Calvin’s drink, raising the straw to his lips and taking a sip.
“You could be.”
Emory’s cheeks reddened and he sat Calvin’s drink back on the table between them.
“I’ve been doing a lot of thinking lately,” Emory offered.
“Oh?”
“Yeah.” He nodded. “I don’t understand why people date.”
Calvin scoffed, then sobered. “You’re being serious?”
Emory rubbed his fingers across the sticky surface of the table. “Well, yeah. Fifty percent of marriages end in divorce, and I don’t even know what the statistic is on a non-marriage. Those either end in marriage, or nothing, and then you’re back at zero or fifty percent. It seems like a lot of work for nothing.”
“It’s not for nothing,” Calvin winced, wishing Graham out of his head.
“I know. You’ve made that clear.”
“And I don’t fuck people I can see myself having relationships with.”
“Oh.” Graham rubbed his hands on his knees.
“And you’re definitely not ready for a relationship,” Emory summarized, a sad, yet knowing look in his eyes.
“Was it the spritzers?” Graham chuckled.
Emory smiled. “That’s the least of it, tiger.”
“I don’t know what to do then. I know that I want you.” Graham palmed his growing cock to demonstrate what he’d said. “But I can’t say if he didn’t come back to me I wouldn’t take him back.”
“As is the way of it.”
“Maybe it’s best if we stop pretend dating then,” he suggested helpfully.
Emory rolled his eyes, a smile pulling at his mouth. “You just put that together?”
Graham hated the conflicting emotions that played across Emory’s face, and he hated that it was his own indecision that had caused the handsome and charismatic young man so much confusion.
Emory stood up and grabbed his jacket, slipping it back up his shoulders with a jerky shrug. “I’m gonna go then.”
He lingered and Graham reached for him, fingers clasping around Emory’s pinky finger to stall his movement. What he was about to propose was probably the worst idea he’d ever had, but there wasn’t much blood left in his brain and after three months of only fucking his hand, he was nearly desperate for contact.
And Emory was there, and he smelled so good.
“What if we only do it once?”
Emory’s head snapped to the side, his nostrils flaring and his eyes wide.
“Sorry. What?”
Graham stood up and pulled Emory back to his chest, his nose assuming its already familiar position against Graham’s sternum.
“One time,” he murmured into Emory’s hair. “And that’s it. The end of it.”
“One time,” Emory repeated.
“And you’ll never see me again.”
Emory’s shoulders heaved with his breathing and his nose rubbed against Graham’s chest. Graham didn’t push for an answer, his hands unmoving against the cold leather of Emory’s jacket. Without a word, Emory stepped away and let his jacket fall down his arms. He pulled his white t-shirt over his head and blinked up at Graham, his eyes equal parts eager and disappointed.
“Alright,” he agreed. “Let’s make a bad decision together.”
Graham advanced, scooping Emory into his arms and lifting him off his feet. Emory gasped, and Graham slammed their mouths back together, continuing his exploration of Emory’s mouth. It wasn’t necessary, though; none of this was necessary, the touching, the kissing, the heavy sighs. Graham didn’t need to learn the topography of Emory’s body, and at this rate, it would be better if he didn’t.
His mind was already pulling parallels that didn’t exist, the sharp angles of Emory’s shoulder blades compared to the muscular curves of Calvin’s back. The compact feel of Emory’s mouth against his was nothing like the demanding way that Calvin used to swallow down his demands.
“Not like this then,” Graham whispered, spinning Emory so his chest was pressed against the stacks of payroll files on his desk.
“There’s one good decision.” Emory worked open his belt and dropped his pants to his knees.
The pale globes of his ass came into view, and Graham’s breath caught in his throat. Another comparison. Graham fisted Emory’s ass in his hands and kneaded his flesh, pulling his cheeks apart to reveal his twitching pucker.
“Your ass is gorgeous,” Graham admitted, dropping to his knees and licking Emory from his balls to his spine.
Emory’s knees trembled and knocked against Graham’s desk.
“Don’t say things like that, tiger,” he rasped. He adjusted his cock so it was angled down, pressed against the wood of Graham’s desk. Emory’s cock was thick and swollen, the tip shiny with precum. Graham forced his face between Emory’s legs and licked him clean.
“Reach over the desk,” Graham grunted. “There’s lube in there.”
“Condoms?” Emory asked, rifling around and dropping the lube near Graham’s hand.
Fuck.
He and Calvin hadn’t used condoms in years. Even if there was one in the desk, it wouldn’t be good anymore.
“Shit.”
“Inside pocket of my jacket.” Emory used his ass to push Graham away.
He scrambled backward, grabbing Emory’s jacket and fishing a condom out of the pocket. Ripping it open with his teeth, he held the package in his mouth while he tore his slacks open to expose his erection. He quickly unrolled the condom down his length and turned back to Emory, who had two of his own fingers buried to the knuckle in his ass.
“Jesus,” Graham exhaled, returning to Emory and swatting his hand away.
“No,” Emory moved his hand back into place, pushing his fingers back inside. “I’ve got this.”
Graham watched while Emory loosened himself up, wondering why he had pushed him off. Maybe this entire thing was too bad of an idea and Emory was trying to come up with a way to back out before Graham really and truly touched him.
“Alright.” Emory pulled his fingers out and grabbed the edge of Graham’s desk for support. “I’m ready.”
Graham picked up the lube and slicked himself, lining up with Emory’s hole. He paused, the weight of the moment heavier than he’d expected. This was it. It had been eleven years of Calvin. Only Calvin. Graham closed his eyes against the betrayal, squeezing his hand tighter around his cock.
“Second thoughts?” Emory asked with a quick glance over his shoulder.
Graham nodded.
“We don’t need to. Remember, this was your idea.”
“I want to,” Graham assured him, reaching out and stroking his hand across the small of Emory’s back. “But it’s a lot.”
Emory shifted his weight, his cock snapping toward his stomach, a slick mark left against Graham’s desk in its wake. Emory reached down with one hand and pulled up his briefs, turning to face Graham while he buttoned up his pants.
Graham closed his eyes and stared at the floor while Emory moved around him to collect his shirt to redress.
“I’m sorry,” Graham whispered.
Emory’s feet appeared in front of his, and his hands moved between their bodies, rolling the condom off Graham’s flagging erection and shoving it into his own pocket. He tucked Graham back into his pants and zipped him up, patting his stomach when he was situated.
“No you’re not,” Emory replied quietly, “but you would have been.”
Emory walked away, his feet retreating toward the door, but the door didn’t open. Graham forced himself to look over his shoulder, relieved to find a look of understanding on Emory’s face, not disgust or jealousy.
“It’s better this way,” Emory assured him. “You go figure out what’s going on in your heart, tiger. You know how to find me if you ever get it sorted, okay?”
Graham closed his eyes and nodded.
The door opened and closed, and when Graham looked back, Emory was gone.
An hour later when he returned to his rented apartment, Graham was surprised to find Calvin’s car alongside the curb. Graham hesitated, the car in park and his hand on the handle, not able to push the door open. Calvin’s driver’s door opened and he stepped out, familiar broad body a welcome—and unwelcome—sight after the night he’d had.
Graham was shaking, and Calvin was at his door, opening it from the outside before he could stop him.
“What are you doing here?” he choked out.
Calvin sighed and ran a hand through his hair, looking from the sidewalk to the front door. “I wanted to talk to you. Do you think I can come in?”
Graham was still on edge from the encounter with Emory, his arousal barely held at bay and his thoughts scattered. Inhaling the crisp and clean scent of Calvin’s soap was enough to send him into overdrive and he knew being in an enclosed space was a bad idea.
“Are you here to say you want to try again?” he asked instead, turning his body so his feet were planted to the driveway, his ass still in his seat.
“Not exactly.”
“Then no.”
“That’s…fair, I suppose.”
“What did you want to talk about?” he asked, not able to look Calvin in the face. The guilt over what could have been was too much to bear. What had he been thinking approaching Emory in the first place the night before? His heart was so fully entangled with Calvin’s he should have known better. He felt like an asshole and he needed to tell Calvin what he’d done.
“Have you seen anyone else? Since you moved out?” Calvin sounded nervous, and Graham looked up, his face unreadable.
“I haven’t slept with anyone.”
Calvin chuckled. “But you’ve wanted to?”
“I haven’t not wanted to.”
“Word games, again?” Calvin kicked his shoe.
“I can’t,” Graham growled, unfolding himself from the car and pressing into Calvin’s space. They were nose to nose and Calvin’s eyes looked tired. Graham shoved his hands into his pockets so he wouldn’t reach out to touch. “Even if I wanted to fuck someone, I can’t because no one is you.”
Calvin frowned. “Have you tried?”
“Yeah.”
Calvin remained silent, and Graham’s world crumbled around him. “Is that why you’re here? You want to tell me you’ve slept with someone else?”
“I haven’t.” Calvin scratched the back of his neck. “But I’ve met someone and I think I’d like to see if it turns into anything.”
“And why are you telling me?” Graham spat. He slammed his door closed and stepped away from Calvin, jogging to the porch. He dropped his head against the red front door, key in the lock, but unturned.
“You’re my husband.” Calvin’s breath was hot against his ear. He must have been on Graham’s heels.
“On paper,” he whispered, fight leaving him.
Calvin breathed against his ear, their bodies inches from touching, but it might as well have been miles.
“I haven’t been your husband for a long time, you know that. We were friends, Cal. Friends who lived together.” Graham risked further heartbreak, turning so his back was against the door and his face even with Calvin’s.
"That’s not what I wanted from you.”
“That’s just what happened,” Graham bitterly repeated the words Calvin had offered him before they’d agreed to separate.
“We tried to get it back, Graham,” Calvin pleaded. “We tried, didn’t we?”
Graham swallowed. “We tried.”
“I can’t ever replace you, or replace what we had, but if we’re separated, isn’t this what we’re supposed to do?”
“Good luck,” Graham laughed, a bitter and acidic sound. “It’s not as easy as you think it is.”
“And you know,” Calvin said softly.
“I can’t forget you, Cal. I’ve tried. I can’t look at another man without seeing all the ways he isn’t you. I don’t know how to not be with you, but if you’re figured out how to not be with me, then by all means, why are you even here?”
“It’s not like that. I don’t know how to not be with you at all! Isn’t this how I’m supposed to find out?” Calvin stepped back and scrubbed his hands down his face.
"I’d rather have what we had than someone new.” Graham thumped his head against the door.
“Don’t settle.” Calvin’s lips were pulled tight in a sharp, straight line.
“I never did,” Graham reminded him. “Even when things had cooled, I always loved you. Good luck on your date, Cal.”
Graham faced the door and turned the key, opening the door enough to squeeze through. He slammed it closed and stared out the peephole, watching Calvin’s slumped and retreating form until he disappeared onto the street.
Six
Calvin
Almost twenty-four hours later, and Calvin knew he shouldn’t have gone to see Graham. The feelings of familiarity and desire flamed under his skin as soon as they were in touching distance, but he knew better than to reach out. Being without Graham hadn’t gotten easier, and while he knew trying to get Emory to agree to go out with him was an awful idea, he couldn’t stop thinking about the way his pale skin disappeared into the fine silk of his suit.
Emory struck Calvin as someone who could make him forget, and that was what he wanted. Needed.
Sleeping with a coworker or employee was always ill-advised. Dating an employee even more so, but Calvin’s year had been nothing more than a series of bad decisions and terrible choices, so he didn’t see the harm in asking. He saw the way Emory looked at him, the way his eyes had lingered a little too long and a little too low.
Graham’s words from the night before echoed in his head, and now he doubted if he’d be able to go through with it, even if he convinced Emory to go out with him.
“Need anything else before I take off?” Emory stopped in the doorway of Calvin’s office, crossing one foot over the other at the ankle and leaning against the doorjamb. He was in another suit today. Three piece, dark blue with a different pink tie. Calvin glanced down at his own black and gray suit and sighed.
“Yeah, actually.” He beckoned Emory into his office. “If you have a minute, come in and close the door.”
Emory’s eyes briefly widened, but he closed the door and stepped inside.
“What’s up?”
“Do you have any plans tonight?” Calvin asked, swallowing down his nervousness.
“Nooo.” Emory tilted his head and narrowed his eyes.
“Do you want to go grab a drink?”
“Like a work drink?”
“If you like.” Calvin was doing his best to play it safe in the event he had completely misread the looks Emory had been giving him the past two days.
“If I don’t?” Emory raised a brow.
“Then it doesn’t need to be a work drink.”
A smile pulled at the corner of Emory’s lips. “Are you propositioning me?”
“I’m asking if you’d like to get a drink.”
“A non-work related drink.”
“A drink,” Calvin clarified.
“Where would we get this drink at?”
“Wherever you want.” Calvin cleared his throat, his voice gruff.
“I don’t date.” Emory stood up and smoothed a hand down the front of his vest.
“I’m not looking to date, I mean, that’s not necessarily my end goal.”
“Hmn.” Emory smirked. “I’m getting the distinct impression my boss is trying to fuck me.”
Calvin’s throat flamed above his collar from the embarrassment of being called out. Maybe this was wrong. He knew better than to shit where he ate.
“MacKenzie’s at seven,” Emory said, striding toward the door and gripping the handle.
“That’s the next town over.”
“Would you rather get caught out with me here and explain why you’re sitting far too close to your new paralegal?”
“Right.” Calvin nodded. “Seven at MacKenzie’s.”
“See ya, boss.” Emory saluted him and slipped out the door.
Calvin let out a long breath and glanced at his watch. It was before six. He packed up his laptop and some files and decided to go home and change out of his suit into something a little more casual. However, half an hour later, in front of his closet, he was faced again with his new dilemma.
He was pretty certain by now he was boring.
Maybe if he wasn’t so boring, things with Graham could have worked.
Eleven years was a long time, and while they hadn’t grown apart, they’d grown complacent in their life together. They didn’t go on dates anymore or make time for each other. Sex was perfunctory and mechanical…it was as though all the things they’d loved so much from the start of their relationship were gone.
They’d tried to have another go at it, scheduling time for dates, trying new things in bed, but nothing had clicked and they’d always found themselves back in the same rut and routine. The decision to separate had been agonizing for them both, neither really wanting it, but Calvin not wanting merely a roommate for the rest of his life even more. He wanted Graham back, wanted his husband back, and if they couldn’t get there, then…
Calvin pulled a long sleeve gray t-shirt off a hanger and slipped it over his head. He sat on the edge of his bed and laced up his sneakers, grabbing his wallet and phone before heading out the door.
“What’s a fancy attorney like you doing in a dive like this?” Emory purred in his ear. His breath was hot and his words were laced with an intent that had Calvin’s cock thickening against his leg.
“Looking for trouble, I think.”
Emory nodded in agreement and slipped into the empty seat across from Calvin with a mischievous smile. Calvin had deliberately picked a booth in the far corner of the bar, hoping for as much obstruction as possible. Every second that he waited was another second guess if this was the worst idea ever.
“Do you always try to sleep with your new hires?” Emory grinned, indicating the comment wasn’t meant maliciously.
“Actually, no.”
“Are you saying I’m special?” Emory batted his lashes and reached for Calvin’s drink, raising the straw to his lips and taking a sip.
“You could be.”
Emory’s cheeks reddened and he sat Calvin’s drink back on the table between them.
“I’ve been doing a lot of thinking lately,” Emory offered.
“Oh?”
“Yeah.” He nodded. “I don’t understand why people date.”
Calvin scoffed, then sobered. “You’re being serious?”
Emory rubbed his fingers across the sticky surface of the table. “Well, yeah. Fifty percent of marriages end in divorce, and I don’t even know what the statistic is on a non-marriage. Those either end in marriage, or nothing, and then you’re back at zero or fifty percent. It seems like a lot of work for nothing.”
“It’s not for nothing,” Calvin winced, wishing Graham out of his head.
