Enigma

Chapter Three

Bailey dropped his jacket over the desk chair and tossed his keys onto the nightstand. He tore his shirt off with a groan while kicking his shoes off. His jeans came next, and the socks with it.

"How was he?" Foster was leaning forward on his knees, gripping the end of his bed. "Worth the morning hike?"

"Eh. Maybe a seven. Six point five."

"Tiny dick?"

"No. Zero foreplay and then lasted, like, point two seconds." Bailey jumped up onto his bed and slipped under the covers. "For his sake, I hope it was because of the beer."

Foster laughed, falling back onto his bed. "Damn. He was a good dancer too, I figured he'd have moves for days."

"College boys have no control over their liquor." Bailey shut his eyes, then struggled to open them. "What about your guy? He any good?"

Foster instantly groaned, sitting up and turning to look at Bailey. "You would not even believe! He fucking passed out on me!"

Bailey peaked an eye open. "On you?"

"On me! Literally! Dick up my ass and everything."

"What'd you do?"

"Knocked him onto the floor. Was gonna kick him out, but he didn't wake up. Think he left when the sun started coming up; I forgot to close the blinds."

Bailey only hummed, starting to drift off. He'd been up early to make sure he'd be gone by the time the jock woke up.

"Hey," Foster whispered. "Wanna go back to Enigma tonight? Maybe we can both actually find an eight or above."

Bailey hummed. "Sure. Pregame?"

"I'll go buy booze!" He hopped up, practically skipping out of the apartment.

"Mm, okay."

Foster and Bailey were wrapped up in one another, swaying to the pounding music. Their usual tactic for enticing hookups.

"Hey!" Bailey yelled. "Isn't that the bouncer? From last time?"

Foster nodded, and then turned so he was facing Bailey. He put his lips next to the boy's ear. "Yeah, I noticed. He's been watching us all night."

"You gonna go for it? Get a re-do without my hot ass in the way?"

Foster laughed. "No. He doesn't want a hookup. Definitely looking for long term."

"The struggles of finding older men." Bailey turned now, backing his ass into Foster. "This orange won't keep them away, right?"

"No. Just lets them know you don't know the rules. Keeps you out of trouble."

Bailey turned again, not finding anyone he liked. "Great. They know I don't want to be whipped, so I can't even get a free drink."

"I mean, if you want a beer that bad—"

Bailey shoved him back with a frown on his face. His friend laughed, then sent a wink as the man he bumped into pulled him into a dance not too different than what they were doing before.

Bailey's jaw dropped, and then he pouted. He had really shoved his friend into the best looking guy in the building. And he noticed the red band around the guy's wrist. Ugh. Maybe if he looked sad at the bar someone would buy him a pity drink.

He pushed his way toward the bar, and then stole a seat once a couple got up to start dancing. The bartender came over but he lifted a hand with a small smile and shook his head.

"I see you've found the right color."

He turned to a large man, shoulders much broader than his and a giant grin stretched across his mature face. He had a slight stubble framing his jaw. Handsome.

"Sorry?"

"Your bracelet?" He thumbed the orange band on Bailey's wrist. "Found the right one, yeah?"

Bailey watched, his brows furrow. Was this some sort of pick up line? "Uhm, yeah, I guess. Uh, do I know you?"

The man's smile quickly morphed into a frown. It didn't look as good as the smile. "Yeah. Uh, Monte? We talked last time you were here." He lifted his own wrist, showing off his blue band. "We were matching, remember?"

"Matching?" Bailey was trying to remember, but he still had alcohol in his system. He couldn't recall that night when he was sober.

"Yeah... we were both wearing the blue bands?" The man was becoming less confident with every shake of Bailey's head. "You puked on me?"

Bailey's jaw dropped. This was the hunk Foster told him about? "Oh God!"

Monte sighed, his smile coming back. "Jeez, you scared me. I thought I had the wrong boy."

"I am so sorry." Bailey faced the man straight on, waving his hands in front of him. His eyes began to fill with tears again, just like that morning. How embarrassing. "I swear I am never that sloppy."

"Hey, hey, no, it's alright. If I was mad I wouldn't be here talking to you, would I?"

Bailey took a few breaths, practically panting. "No, I guess not."

"Exactly. All good, yeah? Only took a quick wash."

"Did you dry clean it? I can pay for it!" Bailey reached into his pocket, felt his wallet, and then immediately remembered his financial status. He was broke. "Uhm, maybe I could get you the money on a different day? I don't have any on me."

"Bailey, stop. It's perfectly okay. You didn't do it on purpose, I know that."

"But... But please? I want to make it up to you, please?"

Monte tilted his head back, laughing. "You want to make it up that bad, yeah?" He reached into his back pocket and took out his phone. "Why don't you give me the last digit of your number. You got a bit distracted last time."

Bailey flushed. He also didn't know this man. But he had puked on him, and apparently totally drunk Bailey liked him enough to give almost all of his number. "Alright. But you need to buy me a drink first."

The man smirked, handing Bailey his phone. He turned to the bar keeper. "Hey, Nick! One manhattan."