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Authors: Samantha Ann King

Tags: #Contemporary, #Romance, #Gay

Waiting for Ty (9 page)

BOOK: Waiting for Ty
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“Pining? Seriously? That’s a little old-fashioned, isn’t it?”

She grinned, crossed her arms over her chest and sat back. She really was beautiful. Big blue eyes, high cheekbones, a slight cleft in her chin and lips that were made for kissing. If he hadn’t been “pining” over Landon, he’d be panting after her.

“What would you call it?”

The waitress came back with Annie’s white wine, and as she sipped, he considered her question. It was true. He’d been pining over Landon since that weekend.

That weekend.
It was how he measured time now. Before that weekend. After that weekend. Before fucking his best friend. After fucking his best friend.

True, he’d been in love with Landon before that weekend. But
making love
with him had intensified those feelings. Because no matter how often he thought of it as “fucking,” the truth was they hadn’t fucked. They’d made love. Ty hadn’t even known there was a difference until
that weekend.
The discovery was killing him. Every time he thought about it, which was way too often, he got a panicky, sick feeling. He couldn’t help but believe he’d screwed up when he’d turned his back on Landon and rejected everything he’d offered. “So it’s not work?”

She laughed. “No, definitely not work.” She cocked her head. “You want to talk about her? I might be able to help.”

Not just no, but hell no. One little slipup with the wrong pronoun—or in this case the right pronoun—and she’d know. “That wouldn’t be very chivalrous.”

“Now there’s an old-fashioned word. Haven’t you heard? Chivalry is dead. Just pretend I’m one of your buddies.”

He’d been trying to do that since their first date, trying to pretend she was Landon. Despite the blue eyes and golden hair, it wasn’t working. Time to change the subject. “Tell me about your day.”

“I’d much rather
you
tell me about the woman.”

He shook his head. “Not happening. Let’s go to Charty’s and get something to eat.”

“No. It’s been a long day. I’m going home.”

She suddenly sounded tired, or had she sounded tired before and he’d been too self-absorbed to notice? Guilt niggled at him. He was a dick. “Hey, I’m sorry.”

“That’s okay. I hope it works out for you.” She slipped out of the booth, and Ty walked her to the door and out to her car. She kissed his cheek. “If you need a woman’s perspective, give me a call.”

He opened the car door. “Thanks. I’ll do that.”

After she’d driven away, he stood on the sidewalk, staring down the street. That had to be the shortest date on record.

Now what?

He needed another beer or two. Which was the reason he wasn’t going back into the bar. Since
that weekend
, he’d stayed away from alcohol when he
needed
it.

He might as well head home, too. He stuffed his hands in his pants pockets and curled his fingers around the small spiral containing his notes. He was tempted to toss it. It was hypocritical of him to expose the senator’s sex life when his own was so screwed up.

Except that the recipient of the senator’s attention didn’t want it. He was thirty years older than the girl and married. Hell, the man had a daughter her age.

He’d had these guilty thoughts too often lately. Who was he to expose people’s secrets when he had his own? Over the last two months the job had become less important, less satisfying—the slam-dunk feeling of accomplishment gone.

What did that leave him? Misery. He didn’t want to get up in the mornings, wanted to drink himself into oblivious sleep before the sun set. Even his social life sucked. He was avoiding friends, especially those who knew Landon, and he wasn’t making new ones. He just didn’t have the energy for it. He hated to think of the rest of his life stretching endlessly in front of him, imbued with this soul-deep pain, this draining discontent.

So screw your family and be with Landon.

It wasn’t the first time he’d had this argument with himself. But now a faint, unfamiliar voice tentatively whispered, “Why not just be with Landon and see what happens with the family?”

He stopped in the middle of the sidewalk and listened intently.

The voice grew stronger, feeding on Ty’s attentiveness. “Maybe once they realize that
it’s
in the family, they’ll feel differently.”

Yeah
,
right.

“Until you try, it’s all speculation.”

He didn’t know where the voice was coming from. It sounded like Landon, like some of his friend’s optimism had finally rooted itself in Ty.

Why not give his family the benefit of the doubt? His stomach fluttered with excitement. At this point, just the possibility of being with Landon and not alienating his family was enough. If they met Landon first. Got to know him...

He started walking again, excitement quickening his step.

Was he really going to do this?

It was Friday night. He could head to Houston tomorrow morning. Hell, he could drive down tonight.

No, he should sleep on it. See if he still thought it was a good idea in the light of day.

Yeah, he’d wait until tomorrow. After two months, another few hours wouldn’t matter.

* * *

Nervousness and exhilaration dampened Ty’s palms on the steering wheel as he stopped at the gatehouse, which controlled access to the high-rise building that housed Landon’s condo. He gave the rent-a-cop his name and Landon’s, then proceeded to guest parking. In the building’s lobby, the concierge greeted him, asked his name and who he was visiting.

“I’m sorry, sir. Mr. Burke didn’t give us your name. Let me check in with him before I send you up.”

Ty waited impatiently. What if Landon wasn’t home? What if he’d gone to Austin? What if he’d found someone else? Except Ty knew better. Landon’s feelings weren’t so easily swayed. There wasn’t a fickle bone in his body.

The concierge replaced the phone and said, “I’m sorry, sir. Mr. Burke isn’t answering, and I’m afraid I can’t let you up without his permission.”

He was gonna have to call. He hoped to hell Landon’s cell was charged. He plodded back to his truck, slipped his phone from his back pocket then stared at it. If he did this, there was no going back.

He rubbed his thumb along the side of the glossy black plastic. How many times in the last two months had he yearned to call him? How many times had he started an email? He’d even deleted Landon’s phone number so he had to take the time to punch it in. A fail-safe.

Now, his thumb picked out the number from memory. He hesitated before pressing the call button, his palms sweaty, his heart pounding in his ears. Taking a deep, bracing breath, he pushed the button. The phone rang once and then went to voice mail.

Shit. He’d either turned it off or the battery was dead. Probably the latter.

At the beep, Ty cleared his throat. “Hey, Landon. It’s me. I’m in town.” He debated whether to say more. No. That was enough. He ended the call, then immediately dialed Landon’s landline. Still no answer. He left the same message, tossed the phone on the passenger seat and then slumped against the vinyl upholstery, the surfeit of emotion leaving him drained.

Now what?

He should call Nikki to make sure Landon wasn’t in Austin. He perked up a little. Nikki’s phone was always charged.

Landon’s sister answered on the third ring. “Hi, Ty. Long time, no see.”

“Hey, Nikki.” He desperately wanted to blurt out, “Where’s Landon?” But he couldn’t. Couldn’t even lead with Landon. Niceties first and then work around to the real reason for his call. “How are you?”

“Good. We miss you around here.”

“Yeah, sorry. Been busy with work.” No busier than normal, but she didn’t need to know that.

She chuckled. “No joke. I’ve been keeping up with you in the paper.”

“Yeah. There’s no end to the corruption and greed in our state capitol.”

“Good to know,” she said wryly.

“Listen. I’m in Houston, trying to get a hold of Landon. He’s not answering his landline. Is he in Austin?”

“No.” She giggled and murmured, “Jake, stop it.”

Great. He was interrupting something. He started to apologize, but Nikki said, “Did you try his cell?”

Ty snorted. “Yeah, but you know how he is.”

“Battery dead?”

“I’m guessing.”

“Hmm. Now I’m worried. He wouldn’t have missed your visit.”

“He didn’t know I was coming. I was in town following a story.” The white lie came easily enough. “I had a few minutes, so I thought I’d stop by.”

“Did you try him at work?”

“No. Guess that’ll be my next call.”

“Hey, let me know when you find him so I don’t worry. Okay?”

“Yeah, sure. Thanks, Nikki,” he said, anxious to get off the phone and leave her to her husband.

“Wait. Ty?”

“Yeah, I’m here.”

“Is everything okay?”

“What do you mean?”

“You sound different.”

“Just tired, I guess. I had a date last night.” No reason to tell her it had ended less than thirty minutes after it began. “Then I had to get up early this morning.”

“Are you sure that’s all it is?”

He cringed. Landon was right. Nikki was weird about knowing when something was wrong. It was kind of spooky. “Yeah.” Forget letting her get back to her horny husband. He had to get her off the phone before he was tempted to spill his guts. “Hey, Nikki, I’m gonna let you go so I can find Landon. I’ll talk to you later.”

“Okay.” She sounded reluctant.

“Bye,” he said before she could interrogate him further.

He clicked the end call button, then punched in Landon’s work number, again from memory. And yet again, his voice mail picked up, which left Ty frustrated as hell. It didn’t mean Landon wasn’t at work. He could be in the lab. Ty left another message.

It was early. Landon could be lifting weights or running. He considered checking out the trails at Hermann Park. But he ran the risk of missing him.

He’d just sit here a while and try to work. He opened his laptop and turned it on. He needed to start the article about the senator. He’d learned early on that once he finished the first paragraph, the rest of the article wrote itself. But sometimes that first paragraph was a bear, especially when he couldn’t focus. Like now.

He kept thinking about the first time he’d met Landon. The guy had been seriously shy. Ty had asked him question after question to get him to open up, to get to know him better, but eliciting more than a yes or no from him had been damned near impossible. They’d run into each other at a couple of more parties that Landon’s sister had dragged him to with the same result before Ty had suggested Landon come to his apartment to grill and catch a football game on the tube. That had worked better. With just the two of them, Ty had drawn Landon out a little. After a few one-on-ones, Landon had finally become comfortable enough with him that he could converse eloquently. They’d spent more and more time together, back and forth between Houston and Austin until it was a given that they got together a couple of times a month.

No wonder he’d missed him so damn much.

His phone rang, startling him from his memories. He checked the display, and his heart slammed against his ribs. His thumb shook as he pressed talk. “Landon?”

“Ty, I just got home and heard your message. Where are you? Do you have time to come by?”

“I’m outside your building, down in guest parking.”

“Seriously?” Landon’s surprise raised his voice an octave.

“Yeah.”

“Come on up.”

“I’m on my way.” Ty ended the call, closed his eyes and breathed deeply—in and out, in and out—trying to slow his racing heart, calm his excitement, clear his brain so he didn’t do something rash when Landon opened the door.

The concierge welcomed him back and directed him to the elevator, which moved so slowly he probably would have made better time on the stairs. Nervously, he stepped out onto Landon’s floor and glanced up and down the carpeted hallway. There were only six units on this floor. Even though he’d never been to the new condo, the number was as ingrained in his memory as Landon’s phone numbers. There it was, across from the elevator and down to the right. He stopped in front of the door and raised his hand to knock. A sense of déjà vu blanketed him. But this time was different. This time he was ready.

Chapter Thirteen

Landon paced in the entry of his condo. After two months with no word, he couldn’t help but wonder what Ty was doing here. Obviously, he’d made some kind of decision. But
what
had he decided? Friends? Nothing?

A tap on the door brought him up short.

Ty.

Taking a deep breath, he gripped the cool metal of the doorknob, twisted it and stepped back. There he was, his smile uncertain, hands stuffed in the front pockets of his jeans, broad shoulders hunched over. Shyness got the best of Landon. It was almost like seeing Ty for the first time.

They didn’t shake hands, didn’t do the one-armed man hug. Landon itched to reach for him, touch him, but he didn’t know how Ty would respond. Better not to risk it.

“Can I come in?” Ty asked.

Landon nodded jerkily and stepped back, opening the door wider. After Ty was inside, he shut the door. He should say something. “Um, hi.”

“Hi. How’ve you been?” Ty asked.

Was that a trick question? He’d been shitty. But he didn’t want to ruin this moment, whatever it was. “Fine.”

“Can we sit down?”

Landon answered by leading him into his living room.

Ty sat on the edge of the brown leather sofa. “Nice furniture.”

“Thanks. My sisters.” His manners finally came to the rescue. “How about a beer or soda or something?”

Ty hesitated. His brow furrowed, and his smile faltered. The fact that he couldn’t answer a simple social question heightened Landon’s anxiety. Had Ty planned a hit and run? A cold sweat dampened Landon’s shirt and misted his skin.

Ty finally jerked his head in a nod. “Yeah, a beer would be great.”

Amazing that Ty’s answer could give him hope. It was just a freaking beer. He grabbed two from the kitchen and handed one to Ty. Then he sat in a matching recliner, twisted the cap off the bottle and took a swig. It was bitter and cold. Perfect. The mood in the room not so much. Silence stretched between them like the Gulf of Mexico. Ty wasn’t drinking. He was hunched over, his forearms on his thighs, nervously rolling the bottle between his hands. Landon didn’t know what to say. Again he wondered why Ty was here. He should just ask, but he was afraid of the answer. Better to prolong uncertain agony. Landon began digging at the label on his bottle, peeling off strips and laying them on the end table.

BOOK: Waiting for Ty
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ads

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