Page 22 of Blue Gold

I snorted at her worry, considering how off base she was. So caught up with Elliot, I didn’t even bother to listen to Father’s story. In fact, it all became white noise at some point—all but him.

Him.

Him.

Him.

Nothing had ever happened between us, and here I was, already losing my sanity over him.

“I just remembered there are some papers I need to submit,” I told Claudia with a reassuring smile that failed to do the work, given the frown on her face.

“Daniel—”

“John will take you back home, okay?”

Despite her clear worry, she nodded. I’d wager anything she thought I needed space from my dad, and shame on me for letting her. Using her kindness in such a cynical manner was unfair. Yet, once again, I chose to be selfish, and after kissing her goodbye, I left the party and drove straight to Brooklyn.

Standing in front of his door, I curled my fingers into tight fists and was ready to knock when I paused.

What if he’s not alone?

The unsettling thought made my insides flip, and nervous, I swallowed back my fear. Was I capable of facing such a scenario? I highly doubted it. But at the same time, I also couldn’t stomach going through one more day without confronting Elliot and getting answers to questions I didn’t even know I cared about.

I took a deep breath before finally moving and knocking on his door. Hoping he’d answer it, I stepped back and waited with my hands behind my back.

I tensed on the spot upon hearing sounds coming from the other side of the door and quickly straightened up just in time for Elliot to open it.

He stood in the doorway, a cigarette between his fingers, blocking my way inside. With a stone face, he checked me out carefully, his eyes going over the evening tux I wore tonight.

He raised one brow, took a puff from his cigarette, and blew out the smoke.

“What are you doing here?” He tsked. “I thought you said you were too busy to meet this week.”

I see. So he’s angry, too.

“I was.” Or so I lied to him.

He gave me a pissed-off look before taking another drag. “Yet you had time for partying.”

“We need to talk.”

Turning his back to me, Elliot walked inside the apartment.

“Really?” he snarled as I followed him in, closing the door behind me.

It was my first time inside his place, which was incredibly small. In fact, it was just a cramped room with a bed, a small kitchenette, and a door that I assumed led to the bathroom. The fact that fashion magazines covered the cracked floor and clothes hung around from literally anywhere didn’t help to make the place look bigger.

“Don’t you have a closet?” I asked while eyeing the window he used as a hanger for some shirts.

“Did you come here to talk about interior design?” He sat down on his bed.

His bed.

My mind went wild with thoughts of what he did on those sheets, and that brought me back to last Saturday and the man who I assumed he fucked here. Fucked. That one word rubbed me the wrong way as I wasn’t a vulgar man. Sex never meant much to me before, mainly because I had never been engaged in an act that made me lose all of my senses. Being a gay man married to a woman, intercourse was an unpleasant task I had to suffer to keep my secrets. Most times, I was terrified I wouldn’t get an erection, which would awaken Claudia’s suspicion. At other times, I simply did my best to pleasure her and be done with it.

Yet, ever since I saw that man kissing Elliot’s neck, all I could think about was sex. Dirty, filthy sex. More correctly, of the way they fucked. By now, I probably had dozens of different scenarios in mind, and seeing Elliot sitting on his bed didn’t help.

“No, I had something to ask you,” I finally answered his question.