Crossing the Line

I just want you to know Im over you.

A faint thump as a clumsy hand fumbled the receiver was followed by a sleepy voice. Huh?

Im totally over you. I hope you and the twink are happy, you selfish fuck.

Silence. Then, Hold on. The sounds were fainter now and muffled. Ben, I think its for you. I think its Jamie.

Shit. The background noise in the nightclub kept Jamie from noticing that it wasnt Ben whod picked up. Didnt it just fucking figure it would be Kevin who answered? In the middle of the night. Twist the God damn knife some more.

Jamie?

God damn it, it wasnt fair.

After all this time, just the sound of Bens voice shouldnt still do this to him. Shouldnt wash over him and make him feel like hed been wrapped in the biggest, warmest blanket ever made. Jesus, why couldnt he just let go and move on?

Yeah. Jamie couldnt hide the bitterness he felt. I just called to say--

Ben cut him off. Yeah, I know. Its one oclock. Jamie, are you drunk?

No. It wasnt a lie. A pale, off-white shade of the truth, maybe, but not an outright lie. Because the truth was, he couldnt drink enough to make him forget how hed felt for those few amazing months when hed had Ben in his life. I only had a couple martinis.

Jamie, youre drunk. If you want to talk, call me when youre sober.

The band finished its number and the applause from the club-goers drowned out whatever Ben said next. Ben, could we just... The applause died away and Jamie could hear the dial tone now. The fucker had hung up on him.

Fuck.

The vodka hed drunk swirled as Jamies stomach rolled over. The same sick feeling he got whenever he let himself think about Ben for too long settled over him.

What a dumbass. Why had he come to a jazz club, anyway, if not to torture himself with memories of better times? Times when he and Ben had been together. At the time, Jamie hadnt recognized the feeling for what it was. Hed been too crazy for Ben, and all it had taken was one look from those warm, hazel eyes for Jamie to be hard and ready for him.

His hand hurt and Jamie opened his clenched fist to find the cell phone he still clutched digging into his palm. He shoved it into a pocket and leaned his head back against the wall outside the mens room door. Closing his eyes, Jamie banged it against the wall behind him. He didnt worry about hurting it. It was too thick for that, too thick to get much of anything through it. How else could he explain calling Ben in the middle of the night?

That fucker Kevin had answered.

Pretty little bastard.

Jamie still carried a picture in his mind of the night Kevin and Ben had gotten together. Hed been there and watched it happen, seen the rapt interest in Bens eyes that hed been unable to disguise. Impossible, too, to miss the matching fascination in Kevins. And there hadnt been a damn thing Jamie could do about any of it, only watch with a sick dread building in his gut that told him Ben wasnt just taking a breather -- he was never coming back.

When the hallway leading to the restrooms began to fill with bodies intent on a single mission, Jamie put it together with the rising tide of voices and realized the band must be taking a break. Feeling like a salmon pushing upstream, he fought the flow of traffic and headed back to his table.

He still had time for at least one more drink. Maybe then he could bear to let one of the cute young things hed caught eyeing his Rolex come over and sit down. Hell, he might even let one of them follow him home. With enough Armadale in him, it wouldnt matter what color the eyes were looking up at him from behind a mouth full of his cock. So long as he could close his own and pretend, the details werent really important.

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