it in a different way. A way Joe would have been comfortable with.
It wasn’t about city versus country. Mackenzie could feel the truth of that, and he tried to chase down the details. It was just lifestyle choices. There were people getting messed up and doing crazy things out in the country, and there were people having quiet dinners with friends in the city. There had been a time Mackenzie had wanted the craziness, but that time was gone. He wasn’t living the way he was because he was stuck in the country; he wanted a quieter, saner life. With Joe, but not because of Joe.
He didn’t want to be drunk and confused, getting dragged through the streets because Anton was trying to track down some maybe-boyfriend and punish him for some real or imagined slight. Just because work brought him to the city didn’t mean it had to bring him to his old lifestyle.
It was a good thing to realize, he was pretty sure, and he tried to run over it in his mind so that at least the major features of the idea would still be there when he sobered up.
“He’s in there!” Anton hissed, dragging Mackenzie past the wide window and toward the bar’s doorway. “You need to play along, okay?”
“Play along? What are you doing?”
But Anton didn’t answer. He was too intent on getting the door open and pulling Mackenzie inside. The place wasn’t too crowded, but Mackenzie had no idea what Alexi looked like so he didn’t bother looking for him. Anton ordered them shots of something, so that was a silver lining, and then there was a cocktail of some sort to follow, and Mackenzie hadn’t paid for any of it. This wasn’t too bad.
Anton was talking about something, his face too animated and his voice too loud, but Mackenzie was still able to tune out most of it. And it took him quite a while to notice just how close Anton was standing, and how possessively he had his arm draped around Mackenzie’s shoulder. When he finally figured it out, he sighed loudly enough for Anton to give him a dirty look before resuming his monologue.
They were making Alexi jealous. How original. And how productive. This was a scenario designed to produce drama, not to strengthen a relationship. More likely to tear a couple apart, really, but Anton probably didn’t care about that. It was his pride that was hurt, not his heart.
Whoever Alexi was, he didn’t seem to be taking the bait, and, as Mackenzie should have known he would, Anton upped his game. He leaned in and started whispering in Mackenzie’s ear, then nuzzled his neck, leaving a cold trail of alcohol-infused spit behind.
It wasn’t a big deal, nothing Mackenzie would have thought twice about back in the day. Nathan’s friends used to do this sort of thing all the time, under Nathan’s watchful gaze, of course. Sample the merchandise, understand how this was one more of Nathan’s top-drawer possessions, but don’t go too far. Touch the car’s leather, but don’t take it for a test drive. Or maybe for a drive, even, but not too far. Down the street and back, not out to the highway. Nathan would ride along, of course, and make sure his property came back to him in pristine condition.
Different now, though. Mackenzie was pretty sure Joe wouldn’t be quite so relaxed about it all. He didn’t think he owned Mackenzie; no, he seemed convinced that he didn’t have any permanent claims at all. He’d take this as one more piece of evidence that Mackenzie wasn’t truly committed. And Mackenzie was tired of Joe feeling that way.
So he pushed gently at Anton’s chest, bringing the man’s face around so he could see and hear Mackenzie. “One more minute,” Mackenzie said. “I’m counting to sixty. Then I’m out of here. You can come with me if you want it to look like we’re going home together.”
Anton looked petulant. “I’ll buy you another drink,” he suggested.
“Eight,” Mackenzie said. When he saw Anton’s confusion he added, “I started counting as soon as I told you
It wasn’t about city versus country. Mackenzie could feel the truth of that, and he tried to chase down the details. It was just lifestyle choices. There were people getting messed up and doing crazy things out in the country, and there were people having quiet dinners with friends in the city. There had been a time Mackenzie had wanted the craziness, but that time was gone. He wasn’t living the way he was because he was stuck in the country; he wanted a quieter, saner life. With Joe, but not because of Joe.
He didn’t want to be drunk and confused, getting dragged through the streets because Anton was trying to track down some maybe-boyfriend and punish him for some real or imagined slight. Just because work brought him to the city didn’t mean it had to bring him to his old lifestyle.
It was a good thing to realize, he was pretty sure, and he tried to run over it in his mind so that at least the major features of the idea would still be there when he sobered up.
“He’s in there!” Anton hissed, dragging Mackenzie past the wide window and toward the bar’s doorway. “You need to play along, okay?”
“Play along? What are you doing?”
But Anton didn’t answer. He was too intent on getting the door open and pulling Mackenzie inside. The place wasn’t too crowded, but Mackenzie had no idea what Alexi looked like so he didn’t bother looking for him. Anton ordered them shots of something, so that was a silver lining, and then there was a cocktail of some sort to follow, and Mackenzie hadn’t paid for any of it. This wasn’t too bad.
Anton was talking about something, his face too animated and his voice too loud, but Mackenzie was still able to tune out most of it. And it took him quite a while to notice just how close Anton was standing, and how possessively he had his arm draped around Mackenzie’s shoulder. When he finally figured it out, he sighed loudly enough for Anton to give him a dirty look before resuming his monologue.
They were making Alexi jealous. How original. And how productive. This was a scenario designed to produce drama, not to strengthen a relationship. More likely to tear a couple apart, really, but Anton probably didn’t care about that. It was his pride that was hurt, not his heart.
Whoever Alexi was, he didn’t seem to be taking the bait, and, as Mackenzie should have known he would, Anton upped his game. He leaned in and started whispering in Mackenzie’s ear, then nuzzled his neck, leaving a cold trail of alcohol-infused spit behind.
It wasn’t a big deal, nothing Mackenzie would have thought twice about back in the day. Nathan’s friends used to do this sort of thing all the time, under Nathan’s watchful gaze, of course. Sample the merchandise, understand how this was one more of Nathan’s top-drawer possessions, but don’t go too far. Touch the car’s leather, but don’t take it for a test drive. Or maybe for a drive, even, but not too far. Down the street and back, not out to the highway. Nathan would ride along, of course, and make sure his property came back to him in pristine condition.
Different now, though. Mackenzie was pretty sure Joe wouldn’t be quite so relaxed about it all. He didn’t think he owned Mackenzie; no, he seemed convinced that he didn’t have any permanent claims at all. He’d take this as one more piece of evidence that Mackenzie wasn’t truly committed. And Mackenzie was tired of Joe feeling that way.
So he pushed gently at Anton’s chest, bringing the man’s face around so he could see and hear Mackenzie. “One more minute,” Mackenzie said. “I’m counting to sixty. Then I’m out of here. You can come with me if you want it to look like we’re going home together.”
Anton looked petulant. “I’ll buy you another drink,” he suggested.
“Eight,” Mackenzie said. When he saw Anton’s confusion he added, “I started counting as soon as I told you
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