“Come
with me?” Theo mouthed. He let his body language indicate the back door, miming
the sign for smoke. He tilted his head and walked toward the back of the bar.
Koa
caught up to him before he got very far. “You mom’s gonna fuck your shit up if
she finds out you smoke.”
Theo
didn’t smoke habitually, but sometimes he dug a Djarum Black cigarillo because
they reminded him of his dad. The bar had filled up, and a smoke was an excuse
for some air. An ironic excuse.
He
pushed through the door behind the restrooms, jabbed a rolled-up newspaper in
the jamb to keep it slightly ajar despite the Keep Locked sign, and lit one up.
First
smoke in a while. He took a deep breath and let the unaccustomed rush hit him.
It tingled in the tips of his fingers and toes.
“That’s your blood circulation being cut
off, Dad.”
“I know it, but it feels good. And
cloves. They smell like Christmas. Tell me you don’t love the smell of cloves.”
“They’re gonna kill you.”
“They’re not gonna kill me.”
Theo’d
always hated it when his dad was right.
“Oh,
Theo.” As if he’d heard Theo’s thoughts, Koa closed his eyes and inhaled
deeply. “That smell brings back so many memories.”
Theo
offered Koa one, but he shook his head. “Can’t do that shit. Don’t want to lose
my edge.”
“You
have an edge?”
Theo
wasn’t hooked like his old man. He could take the smokes or leave them. He
couldn’t afford to lose his wind either, especially now that he was chasing
people on foot a lot more often, so maybe he did it once or twice a month.
Usually like this, outside bars, when he was hooking up. It was the perfect
crutch. Something to do with his hands, something to keep him from grabbing Koa
Palapiti around his neck and dragging him in for a kiss so filthy he’d never
forget it.
“Te?”
Soft and provocative, Koa’s voice sweetened the air. How he wished he could
tell Koa the whole truth. Taste those words on his and Koa’s tongues together.
Above their heads, a security light seemed to spit and flicker. Koa grinned and
stepped forward. “You haven’t called. How come?”
“You
haven’t called me either.” Oh yeah.
Now Theo smelled not only Koa’s cologne but the slightly aroused sweat beneath
it. His scent was sharp. Pungent. Theo, who liked men and liked fighting and
fucking and sweat, got a fizzy, almost electric charge out of it.
He
said, “You smell fucking good, Woodie.”
Koa,
whose once racy nickname came from Koa wood—that specialty lumber from the
Acacia tree found all over the Hawai‘ian Islands—whispered, “Subtle.”
“Not
known for it,” Theo admitted.
When
the door burst open behind him, he had to leap out of the way.
“Special
K.” Freddie dislodged his makeshift doorstop when he emerged from the wedge of
inside light. When he then let the door go, it pistoned closed behind him with
a sigh, and probably locked. Great.
Theo’d
encountered Freddie a few times at the gym, and so far he wasn’t impressed.
Freddie was one of those guys who didn’t like hearing that anyone else might
have some skill, or probably he didn’t even like puppies, because he was just that guy.
So
when Theo’s old coach praised Theo, welcome
back, hometown boy makes good,
and all that, of course Freddie Ortiz had to try to take him down a notch. He’d
gotten in a lucky—some would say dirty—punch the last time they’d sparred.
“You
ready?” he asked Koa. “We gotta bounce.”
“No.”
The two of them stared at each other for a few seconds during which Ortiz made
a long, thorough perusal of Theo’s body. Koa sighed. “Wait for me inside, O.”
“But
you said we were going an hour ago.”
“That’s
one, Fred.” Koa narrowed his eyes at his partner. Friend? Lover? Hard to tell.
“Do as I say.”
Theo
did a double take. “Didn’t know you had kids, Palapiti. Past his bedtime?”
Ortiz
leaned against the jamb. “I ain’t sleeping tonight, brah. Maybe you will, huh?
Tucked away in your bedroom in your mommy’s nice little—”
“Shut
up, O.” The muscles in Koa’s neck strained visibly. “You’re on two.”
Fascinated,
Theo watched them. He’d never seen them interact up close, but obviously they
had a thing. Disappointment probably sketched flags of hot color on his cheeks
when he met Koa’s gaze again. Something flickered there, some apology or
protest, but then it died.
“I’ll
be there in a sec,” Koa reiterated.
“Why
bother with Hsu, man?” Ortiz seemed to resent this more, because he wasn’t done
mouthing off. “You know you ain’t getting what you pay for there.”
Theo’d had enough. He went for Ortiz. “That’s the third—”
“Nope.”
Koa’s arm came out to clothesline him. It was like steel; he couldn’t budge it.
“Stand down, Theo. Freddie’s an asshole, but he’s mine, and I’ll deal with him.
He owes me five now. Good ones.”
“Five?”
Freddie let out a snort of disbelief.
“With
a cane.” The words drew serious energy from the lack of emotion with which Koa
said them. “Every violation comes with a price, O.”
Theo
shivered. His dick—which had shriveled with outrage at Freddie’s arrival—now
grew like the Grinch’s heart. Was Koa serious? Was he actually interested in
caning people? Theo would’ve asked right goddamn then and there, but Koa had
already dismissed him. The expression on his face, while mild, boded ill for
whatever part of Freddie the cane was gonna land on.
“Kekoa
Palapiti’s a kinkhound.” Theo waited for Koa to turn to him before adding
sweetly, “You think you know a guy.”
Koa
only smiled, but oh, a smile like that was probably against the law in all
fifty states and the territories. A smile like that could get a guy in deep,
deep trouble.
Too
bad Theo welcomed trouble these days. He invited it in.
