The Drifter (Sanguine Hearts Book 2)

7 The Stranger In The Club

Sam watched Ariel and Grayson as they walked to the break room holding hands. He didn’t know when that happened. He didn’t question that it did. Ariel had the trifecta going for her. She was a very beautiful, highly intelligent, and extremely kind young woman. He used to have long conversations with her about anything and everything. He missed those days immensely. He felt a small twinge of jealousy move through him as they disappeared into the breakroom.

He always wondered if she ever thought of him as more than a friend, if she ever entertained the idea of them. But he never made a move. Something always held him in check. Currently, it was his friend and silent partner, Grayson. Ariel had caught his attention, likely had it long before Grayson made any kind of a move towards her. Sam used to watch him watch her while she went on about her work oblivious to Grayson’s existence. Either that or she did an excellent job of pretending. It went on that way for months.

Sam thought to ask Grayson about his obvious interest in Ariel once. But Grayson had a way of looking at him that barred the asking of any personal questions. Since the two of them were friends but they never talked about girls, women, or anything personal, he let it go. But he noticed Grayson watching her. And still, every night he left with a different girl. That was until he spoke to Ariel. Then he never walked out the doors of the club with another. It was cute and worrisome. Cute, that Ariel caught and held his attention and that it put an end to the string of women. The seemingly endless string of women was worrisome. Sam found that, despite appearances, he trusted Grayson to care for and protect Ariel, maybe even love her, if he was capable of it. He hoped like hell Grayson was capable and that he did love her. He held on to that hope even though personally, he had never seen any emotion cross Grayson’s face. He just wasn’t an openly emotional person.

Sam shook his head and turned his attention to the newcomer. He had never seen him before, but apparently, Grayson had. Their exchange looked even less friendly than the last one Grayson and Alex shared. Who was that boy? Was he even old enough to be in the club? He imagined that he had to be since he was in it, but he looked so young. The conversation with Grayson didn’t last long. The young stranger moved towards the stairs and slowly walked up them. Michael stood at the top of those stairs his eyes cloudy but locked on the stranger. Things just kept getting weirder and weirder. Sam couldn’t know what was being said between any of them. He wasn’t entirely certain that he wanted to know. That exchange, at least, looked a little warmer than the last one the stranger had with one of Sam’s regulars.

On the top of the stairs, Michael looked into Julien’s deep brown eyes and lost all train of thought for a moment. He lost all sense of everything, including time himself. Julien smiled, and Michael smiled back. It was a happy reunion after all.

“Julien,” Michael exclaimed as the boy stepped into his open arms. “It is so good to see you, but I am not sure you should be here.” He looked down to the bar where Grayson usually sat and was relieved to not see him in his customary location. “He wasn’t too happy with you the last time we saw you.”

“No, he wasn’t.” Julien’s sweet melodic voice entered the air between them. “He still isn’t.” The club was busy. The music was loud. The people were louder, but Michael heard Julien perfectly. He wasn’t necessarily smiling, and neither was Julien, but neither of them could hide the feelings that they had for each other. “I wish things were different. I wish I were different, and acted differently. I behaved poorly. I disappointed your friend and tore you away from your anchor, and perhaps his anchor from him. I can see now that he has not moved past the hurt.”

“No, He hasn’t. He won’t anytime soon.” Michael and Julien just looked into each other’s eyes. “Well, he might.” Michael let the thought linger in the air.

“Who hasn’t what,” a sweet and sultry voice whispered in Michael’s ear from way too close to it. He felt Maeve’s hand on his shoulder and picked up her light perfume gently floating on the air. She put her hip against his hip as she stopped and stood next to him. “Who is your friend Michael?” She purred at the boys as she let her eyes roll hungrily over Julien. The woman stood way too close to Michael to not be something special to him. Julien looked at the elegantly beautiful woman and thought ‘Michael would never’. One look at Michael's beautifully handsome face and Julien knew he had. He wanted to ask a million questions. He wisely held his thoughts. He studied the woman's face in silence. There was something familiar about her. Something very familiar, from the shape of her rich brown eyes to the shape of her nose right on down to her full pouty, artfully painted red lips. Then it hit him and his eyes widened for a moment. If Grayson were to shave and let his hair down, he'd look just like her. He turned his eyes to Michael. No wonder he had.

Grayson was beautiful in ways that so many beautiful people were not. He was kind, caring, and compassionate. He was a consummate and resolute man. What Grayson didn't want to do he rarely did. He followed the law, often to the letter. What he stood for he stood strong in and was unflexible in what he stood against. Julien knew from experience, powerful, painful experience, the extent to which Grayson would go to uphold the law and his beliefs.

Ariel returned to the bar. Grayson returned to his seat. The night went on as if nothing out of the ordinary had happened. Grayson chose to pretend that Julien was not upstairs with both Michael and Maeve. He watched Ari work and wondered how much she understood of what he had shown and told her. He had made it clear that he knew Michael and had known him since before the streets were cobbled and there were lanterns along the side of them. He showed her that at some point in his history, he met Julien.