Hunter
I’m early for the meeting, and I hate being early. Not even Emerson is here yet, and he’s always the first one in the room.
I drop into a chair with a scowl on my face and stare at the wood grain of the conference table. I’m stewing like the stubborn asshole I am. I’m mad at Drake for ditching me, obviously flirting, and I’m proactively angry at him for what I’m pretty sure he’s about to do with the bartender.
What the fuck is wrong with him? He goes straight from our trip to trying to fuck someone else. How could he do that to Isabel? Why can’t he just keep his dick in his pants for one fucking second?
It seemed pretty clear to me this past week that the three of us have a bond. Did he not see it that way? No. It was just fucking to him and we mean nothing. And to think I wanted to make this relationship work among the three of us. I actually considered bringing him into my marriage long-term, but of course, he doesn’t want that. That would require not sticking his dick in the first person that walks by.
“What’s wrong with you?” Garrett, one of my co-owners, says with a furrowed brow as he enters the room. He’s not exactly the kind of friend you confide in. Garrett is great for a laugh and a good time, but if I unloaded every detail of the past two weeks on him, his head would explode from trying to take it seriously. I force my chest to take a deep breath as I glance up at him.
“I’m fine,” I lie.
Garrett laughs. “Sure. Judging by the angry scowl on your face, you’re either not too happy to be back or didn’t have any fun on your trip at all.”
“Nah. The trip was great, and I’m happy to be back.” One truth and one lie. The trip was great and I wish it never ended.
“You didn’t lose Drake in the sex clubs, did you?”
“He’s here. At the bar,” I mumble.
“I bet he had a good time. I was half expecting him to not come back at all.”
I don’t respond. A minute later, the rest of the team start filing in. Emerson and Charlie, her walking in front of him with his hand pressed gently against the small of her back. Maggie typing away at something on her phone like she usually is.
They all greet me, smiling and asking about my trip, and I try to keep my smile as natural as possible. Then, of course, they all inquire about Drake and my fake smile gets harder to hold.
“All right, Hunter. Tell us everything. I’m sure you have a lot of thoughts and ideas.” Emerson leans back in his chair, staring at me thoughtfully as he waits. I do have a lot of thoughts and tons of ideas, but a certain giant blond asshole won’t get out of my brain and let me think.
“Yeah…” I stammer, “I didn’t get a chance to put together a presentation yet. We had to move Drake out of his apartment yesterday, but I can whip something—’
“It’s fine,” Emerson says with a crooked smile. “We don’t need a presentation, Hunter. Just tell us about your trip.”
I let out a heavy sigh. Think, Hunter. Think. But there are no clear thoughts, just images and memories and nothing I could possibly share with them. Like the moment I watched Drake tie up my wife for the first time…during that… “Shibari demonstrations,” I blurt out, suddenly using the memory of them as my muse. “We saw some pretty amazing demos that I’d love to bring here.” I sit upright in my chair. “Once a month, let the members learn how to do it themselves.”
“Perfect. That would go well with our other kink demos. Anything else?”
It was at Fire Palace that the owner reminded me that we might not be doing enough to make things discreet for our members, especially the women. “We should be doing more to protect our members’ privacy, especially the women who don’t feel comfortable just walking around our club. Maybe a masquerade evening once a month.”
A few people at the table perk up in interest. Emerson nods as I move on.
I scan through my memory of the trip…landing on the moment I watched Drake and Isabel kiss for the first time and how I felt after that, stealing her away because I had to have her at that moment. “Quickie rooms,” I say. “We were at a club, and they had these stalls that you didn’t have to rent, but you could use…for a quickie.” A grin starts to tug on the corner of my mouth as I remember that night. I notice Charlie, Emerson’s girlfriend, biting her lip as she blushes and quickly types what I’m saying on her laptop.
“Quickie rooms…I love it,” Emerson replies. “And Drake?”
My head snaps up to stare at him. “No, I was with Isabel,” I say quickly to correct him, my cheeks starting to suddenly burn.
Emerson smiles. “I mean…can Drake build us something like that?”
Fuck me. I can’t believe I just thought he was asking if I fucked Drake in a quickie room. I’m now fighting the urge to bolt from this room like a coward.
“Oh,” I reply, clearing my throat and feeling the eyes of everyone in the room on me. “Yeah, easily.”
“Great,” he says, and I could be imagining it, but I swear he’s watching me with more scrutiny than usual. I squirm in my seat. “Anything else?”
The next one is easy, but I feel a lot less excited and proud of the memory as I say, “Dark rooms.”
“Dark rooms?” Garrett asks.
“Yeah. Pitch black. Completely anonymous. Anyone in there can do anything they want…with anyone they want.” I swear they can all read my mind as I remember that night. It plays on repeat in my mind.
The club owner had offered to let me see the room with the goggles on, and the next thing I knew, I saw Drake standing there with his jeans unzipped and a kid barely old enough to drink touching his chest. All of the years of watching Drake flirt with men, kiss them and go to bed with them, I’d finally snapped.
“Interesting…” Emerson replies.
“Where’s the fun in that?” Garrett adds with a laugh. Being the voyeur he is, of course he hates that idea.
“And it’s safe?” Maggie asks.
“Very. The rooms all had cameras, bouncers with special goggles to see in the dark, and condoms were mandatory. I felt very safe there. It was really liberating actually.”
“You used it?” someone asks, and I don’t even catch who it was. I was too caught in the memory, and I probably shouldn’t have let that last part slip.
“Um…yeah. I went in there. Drake and I both did.” Jesus, why am I still talking?
The table nods collectively, and I wish I knew what they’re thinking. Could they possibly suspect what really happened during our trip? Surely not all of it. Not me asking Drake and Isabel to sleep together because just the thought of it turned me on. Or Drake going down on me in a dark club. Or the three of us fucking like animals in Vegas. Or falling in love with my best friend. They definitely didn’t see that one coming.
“Sounds fun,” Emerson says after a long, awkward silence. “The dark rooms might be a little harder to create with our limited available space. Not unless Drake wants to build another level on the club. Where is he anyway?”
Garrett answers before I get the chance. “Hunter must have been a real cockblock all week because Drake’s out there laying the moves on Geo, probably getting his dick wet as we speak.”
My jaw clenches. I don’t blame Garrett because these are the jokes we make all the time. This is what we do, but now it grates on my nerves like never before.
“You’ll meet with him at some point and get a quote for some of these renovations?” Emerson asks, his face set in a serious expression.
“Of course,” I reply.
“If he has any ideas for the dark rooms, I’d love to hear them.”
“I’ll let him know,” I say.
Then Emerson just nods and I can’t help but feel as if he’s staring at me for a reason. Like he can read everything behind my eyes, and it makes me uncomfortable as hell. So I avert my gaze and write myself a couple notes on my notepad.
The rest of the meeting goes by without incident. After everything is done, I make a quick exit to avoid any unnecessary small talk or prodding questions. I’m too anxious to find Drake. What if he’s not at the bar? What if he got a room with someone?
I squeeze my fists together at the thought as I march out toward the main hall. For Isabel’s sake, that would be fucked up.
When I tear open the door from the staff hallway to the main room, I don’t see him at first. Then, my gaze passes the bar and I see him, sitting in the same spot but now he’s leaning over the surface, laughing with Geo, who is now leaning right back over in his space.
I’m storming toward the bar as I quickly remind myself to keep my cool. But honestly, what the fuck is he doing?
“Let’s go,” I say, my words coming out more like a growl than something a normal, civilized person would say. Geo stands upright and slowly backs away from Drake. Good call, kid.
Drake looks at me with alarm. “Everything okay?”
“Can I talk to you for a second?” I ask, feeling the anger boil.
“Sure,” he replies, getting up and following me to a discreet corner. “What’s wrong with you?” he asks.
“Me?” My eyes widen. “What’s wrong with you? Geo thinks you’re trying to take him home and fuck him, and honestly, so do I.”
His shoulders shrug as he forces his eyes away. “So what if I am? All of a sudden you have a problem with me being with guys?”
“It has nothing to do with him being a guy,” I snap before quickly reeling it back in. “What about Isabel?”
I watch as Drake composes himself before answering. “I thought everything that happened on our trip was just fun. We’re back home now. Right?”
When his eyes meet mine again, I freeze. Is he asking me that? That was the deal, but if I really say that wasn’t all it was, then would he really change his mind and come home with me? Is that what I want?
Drake is never going to settle down, not for long at least. If I draw this out, then Isabel is just going to get hurt in the long run, and I can’t let that happen—to her. If this is how he’s going to act, then it’s best to just cut things off now.
“Right,” I reply coolly.
“Hunter, I can’t be the third wheel in your marriage forever. This trip was fun, but the sooner we get back to the way things were, the better.”
My heart feels like a lead balloon in my chest. “So what are you going to do, Drake? Just go back to fucking random strangers? Do you really want to do that forever? Like your mom.”
There’s fire in his eyes as he glares at me. That was too harsh and if I could take it back, I would. “And all this time I’ve avoided comparing you to your father…” he replies.
We’re not going back to the way things were at all. Right now, we’re careening toward the opposite, and I feel helpless to stop it.
“I’m sorry,” I say, as if that’s enough to fix the damage of a fucking tsunami of insults.
“It’s fine,” he replies with a sigh. “For your information…I don’t plan on just fucking random strangers. I was thinking…maybe it’s time for me to date for real. Actually get to know someone and try to make it a long-term thing.”
Why do I hate this idea more? “Then don’t fuck him,” I say, staring straight into those familiar blue irises.
“Okay,” he replies, but it’s not convincing.
“I’m serious, Drake. If you want to be in a real relationship, then don’t fuck him right away. See if you can even do that.”
He doesn’t respond as I storm away, feeling like an asshole after slinging insults at my best friend, as if that’s not half as bad as what he’s doing to me—lying to me. Because no matter what he says about not sleeping with Geo, I know him too well, and I don’t believe him for one fucking second.
