The Wingman by A. Poland

Chapter Twenty-One

The first date went so well that a second one was immediately scheduled for the weekend after—because they were both responsible adults who worked full-time jobs. Ben even agreed to let Nathan help dress him for said first date, upon which he proceeded to send pictures of shirt options to Miles for a second opinion. Miles was just about the most stylish person Nathan had ever encountered, and if anyone could get Ben first-in-person-date-ready, it was Miles.

For the second date, Ben assured Nathan he was fine picking out his own outfit. But when he walked downstairs in his oldest, comfiest jeans and a shirt with a missing button, Nathan marched him right back up to his room.

Lately, Nathan had gotten the best of both worlds. He was able to carry on as normal with Lorcan and hang out with Miles, who Nathan found himself liking more and more each time they met up. So much so, Nathan felt kind of bad that he’d originally painted Miles as some hipster asshole. He knew his initial judgment had come from a place of envy—when Nathan couldn’t even blame Lorcan for having a big thing for Miles.

Whoever it was that Miles liked, he was damn lucky.

Not that Miles ever mentioned them again after Lorcan had crashed by his place. Clearly, Nathan hadn’t unlocked that level of friendship with Miles yet. He wasn’t exactly the most open guy in the world, and Nathan wasn’t about to push him. He could be patient.

Mostly.

Okay, when he tried.

This past month with Nathan’s new version of normal felt pretty damn liberating. The normal where he divided his time between different friends and inevitably faced questions about whether he and Lorcan had gotten in a fight, which Nathan always laughed off and assured otherwise. Not to say he didn’t miss Lorcan to bits when they hadn’t seen each other for a few days—of course he did—but their status as best friends hadn’t changed.

Nathan didn’t feel dependent on Lorcan’s presence to have a good time. He didn’t even have to rely on Miles; he relied on himself. And despite the rocky start to the summer, this was turning out to be one of the best ones to date.

Nathan had an active social calendar, including calling his roommates in Scotland. He was no longer swooning over Lorcan’s every move, and his dad was steadily progressing in his relationship with Ria. Nathan hadn’t met her yet, but he figured it was kind of an inevitable thing at this stage.

By Ben and Ria’s fifth in-person date (to the aquarium after dark and dinner, lovingly organized by Nathan), he trusted Ben enough to figure out appropriate date attire by himself. Not that Nathan could have had much say in the matter, considering Lorcan had called him and asked if he wanted to go out that night. It was the first Saturday Lorcan had off work this month, so Nathan was reluctant to say no.

Especially when this would be the best opportunity to set Lorcan up with someone who would get him out of his rejection-induced funk once and for all. It was there, at the back of Nathan’s mind, that Lorcan might not be as okay as he presented himself to be. And Nathan would be an irresponsible friend if he took that front as fact, so he eagerly counted himself in.

After all, why would Nathan say no to hanging out with Lorcan when his schedule was open?

So he finished placing four owl figurines—roughly the size of Nathan’s torso and about as terrifying as they sounded—around the garden in another attempt to scare the ground squirrels off and made his way inside to get ready.

They hitched a ride with Lorcan’s basketball friends, who were as eager for a night out as Lorcan was, fumbling through upbeat rap songs at the tops of their voices for the duration of the drive. By the time they hit downtown, the streets bustled with activity, and there were lines out the door for most of the bars and clubs.

“Shit,” Lorcan huffed to himself, never patient enough to stand in a line for longer than ten minutes.

“We can try Lemon Tree,” the driver of the night, Jackson, called back. Nathan frowned, trying to rack his brain about why Lemon Tree sounded so familiar to him.

“Hey, have we been to Lemon Tree before?” Nathan asked Lorcan, who shook his head.

“Nope. Unless you’ve gone without me?”

Not exactly likely. Nathan didn’t usually go to clubs or bars without Lorcan. Miles and Nathan tended to steer clear of them when they hung out, and Miles didn’t have to explain why he wasn’t a fan. Nathan knew him well enough by now to understand that places like that—loud and crowded—could be overwhelming. Which sucked, considering where he normally had gigs booked.

Nathan shoved the familiarity to the back of his mind, sure it was nothing, and sat back as Jackson struggled to find parking near the bar. They ended up around ten minutes away, which was honestly an impressive feat considering downtown on a Saturday night.

The line to Lemon Tree wasn’t much shorter than the others, but at least it was moving fairly quickly. As per usual, no one else got carded but Nathan, who had his ID in his hand and ready to go for the inevitable raised brow from the bouncer. Once inside, the group made a beeline to the bar, where Lorcan ordered the first round and then chugged his beer down before quickly ordering another.

So it was one of those nights.

Nathan opted to nurse his beer. Lorcan was probably going to need him sober anyway.

By Lorcan’s third drink, the lights flickered on the stage up front. It would either be a drag show or a musician, and the chances of Nathan having a good night at this point heavily relied on the presence of drag.

Which, of course, he didn’t get.

Instead, he got— Nathan promptly choked on his second sip of beer.

Miles emerged onto the stage.

No wonder Nathan had vaguely remembered the name Lemon Tree. Miles had probably mentioned he had a gig here. Daring to sneak a look at Lorcan, Nathan took in his expression. Jaw clenched, hand tightening around the neck of his bottle—so tight Nathan feared it would shatter if he twitched—Lorcan’s eyes were locked on the man on stage.

“Lor, where’s the fire?” Nathan asked softly.

“Fire?” Lorcan replied distractedly before taking a breath and tearing his eyes away from Miles, who had started to perform. “No fire.”

“Do you want to leave? This place kind of blows anyway,” Nathan suggested, careful to keep his tone upbeat. The drinks were reasonably priced, so in Nathan’s books, that meant it was the furthest thing from a bad bar. But if Lorcan wanted an excuse to leave, then Nathan was happy to hand it to him on a silver platter.

“Leave? Why would I want to leave?” Lorcan asked with a raised brow, leaning back against the bar with a confident flourish. Nathan didn’t answer because technically he wasn’t supposed to know what had happened. He knew this game though. They were supposed to pretend Miles didn’t exist. That Lorcan had never once mentioned him.

So Nathan nodded and dropped it. Maybe it would be a good night, despite this.

Very quickly, Nathan realized it was definitely not going to be a good night. Lorcan kept drinking, fueled by Miles’s presence as he gave a damn good performance. Nathan held the same bottle since the start of the night, a sinking feeling in his gut. He busied himself by pointing out a few people to Lorcan, but his heart wasn’t in it. Nathan didn’t know what was wrong with him, but he was out of it. Past going up to and introducing himself to people, the words didn’t come as easily as they normally did.

Maybe it was because Miles was here, within eyeline and all too distracting.

“How’d that go? She’s not coming over,” Lorcan said the moment Nathan approached him after talking to a redhead by the cloakroom.

“Here with their girlfriend.”

Lorcan groaned, throwing his head back dramatically. “You were right; this place sucks. I’m going to go to the bathroom, then we’ll hit somewhere else?”

“Sounds good.” Nathan nodded, glancing back to the now-vacant stage, EDM music bursting through the speakers rather than Miles’s smooth voice. Nathan lingered by the bar, alone. Jackson and the others had wandered off elsewhere a while ago, but Nathan was fine with leaving the job of rounding the troops to Lorcan. That, or they would meet up with them later. Nathan wasn’t too fussed and finished his lukewarm beer out of sheer stubbornness and reluctance to leave a full bottle behind.

“Hey,” said a voice from Nathan’s right, and he turned, the rim of the bottle to his mouth, to see a flushed Miles standing next to him. He was wearing another funky hat, this time a black trilby with a rainbow wrapped around the brim. “Didn’t realize you were coming here tonight.”

“Neither did I,” Nathan admitted with a shrug. “Lorcan’s friends recommended the place. You were really good, by the way. Don’t feel the need to respond to that part though. I know that you and compliments don’t vibe.”

Despite the disclaimer, Miles smiled shyly and flicked his gaze over to the bar and away from Nathan’s gaze. “Could we maybe talk outside for a minute?”

“Outside? Yeah, ’course.”

Nathan had a few minutes to spare, at least. Lorcan was probably too busy with his manhunt for the other guys. Following close behind Miles, Nathan took a breath of the warm summer air, appreciating how much quieter it was outside. Miles stopped a little ways up, away from the line of people who were only just beginning their night and eager to get inside to start the party.

“Everything okay?” Nathan asked. Miles had an odd pinched look on his face that Nathan wasn’t sure how to interpret.

“Mhm? Oh. Yeah, everything’s fine,” Miles was quick to assure Nathan, who wasn’t one bit convinced.

“Uh-huh, right,” Nathan deadpanned. “Spit it out before you give yourself an aneurysm.”

Miles fidgeted with his hands and avoided looking right at Nathan, a clear giveaway something was on his mind. They were tucked away on a side street, giving them some privacy, which Nathan hoped would help Miles coax out whatever was wrong.

“Okay.” Miles took a deep breath, bracing himself. “I was talking with Jordie, and she said you might not be the best at picking up on hints.”

“That’s because she’s a detective in training,” Nathan shot back because there was nothing wrong with his investigative skills, thank you very much. “Everyone is bad at picking up on hints in comparison.”

“I just… She said I should maybe tell you outright instead.”

“Tell me what?” Nathan furrowed his brows, peering curiously at Miles, who was growing increasingly twitchier.

“Tell you that I like you.”

The world stopped spinning for a moment. Nathan stared at Miles as his brain tried to kick itself back into gear. Nathan needed to go back to factory settings. Nothing was moving in his skull.

“You what now?” Nathan’s words came out garbled, in perfect tune with his thoughts, which might as well have been blitzed in a NutriBullet.

“I like you,” Miles repeated, a bit louder this time, as though Nathan just hadn’t caught him the first time. “A lot, actually.” Miles chuckled breathlessly, nervously. “And I know you probably don’t like me back but—”

Nathan cut Miles off.

With his lips.

It was a rushed motion that involved Nathan essentially propelling himself toward Miles without any plan as to how he would land but hoping for the best. Miles reacted quickly, hands coming to catch him, kissing Nathan back with an enthusiasm Nathan had never once felt in a kiss. Not even in his hookups of the past.

Shit. Miles must really like him.

Nathan was sure he could keep kissing Miles for the rest of his life, in this dark entrance to an alleyway that smelled vaguely like rotten cabbage, their bodies flush against each other, Nathan’s hands on Miles’s narrow waist. The increased contact, feeling Miles’s firm body against him, definitely caused a stirring of interest in one specific area.

Nathan was completely lost in the kiss.

But something dragged him out of it, consciousness kicking and screaming in protest.

“What the fuck?”

They abruptly pulled apart, Miles back against the wall and Nathan staggering to steady his stance, wide-eyed on the person who had interrupted them.

Lorcan.