Kris T. Bethke's Something Like Box Set

Chapter 3

Chapter 3I was feeling loose and happy. The room was filled with laughter and voices, and I was sitting back and enjoying it while nursing my third beer. Or was it my fourth?

“It’s your fifth,” a voice said in my ear.

“Really?” I said, contemplating the bottle in my hand. It was half gone. I didn’t remember the ones between number two and this one.

“Yeah, really,” the deep voice responded. “Which is maybe why you’re talking out loud?”

“Probably,” I agreed with a grin. “But it’s late, and I should go home.”

I stood and wobbled, grateful for the hand that caught my elbow and kept me from pitching face-first into the table. Once I got my feet under me again, I turned to thank the man who had helped. But the words dried up when I found myself looking at Lucas.

“Gotta go,” I mumbled, reaching into my pocket.

His hand shot out and clamped down on my wrist, keeping me from pulling out my hand. His deep blue eyes narrowed accusingly, and he leaned forward to harshly whisper, “You cannot drive like this.”

I jerked out of his hold and nearly fell over, jostling the table as my hip bumped against it. I scowled at him, then pointedly drew my phone out of my pocket. I shook it at him. “I was going to call a cab.”

“Oh.” His voice was low and he looked sheepish for just a moment, before he raised his gaze to meet mine. “I can take you home.”

I just stared at him. Why was he being nice? He’d been cold since we met and a jerk since I’d come back this season. Didn’t he hate me? Why would he offer me a lift home?

“I don’t hate you,” he said quietly, leaning in closer. “And I’m offering because I’m one of the few who haven’t had anything to drink, and I want to make sure you get home safely.”

“I don’t understand.” The words were out before I could check them. I clapped my hand over my mouth. Alcohol did that to me, made the words in my head pop right out my mouth without any thought. I knew better than to have more than three.

Lucas gave me a chuckle and smile. He really was f*****g pretty. His hair was a rich, dark brown and artfully arranged to look like soft waves. Coupled with his stunning eyes, his strong jaw, generous mouth, and perfect nose, he was gorgeous. I supposed he had to be, in order to be a success. He had talent, that was for sure, but his looks went a long way to making him famous. Too bad he was such an ass.

It was a good thing my hand was currently blocking my mouth or I would have really embarrassed myself with that diatribe. I had to wonder though, because of the way the man was staring at me, whether I had actually said that out loud anyway. My alcohol fuzzy brain couldn’t figure out what that look on his face meant. Then he shook his head, his face clearing, and reached out to pull my hand away. I imagined that he held it for a minute, his thumb stroking across my wrist, before he let it go. Damn beer.

“Come on.” Lucas’s voice was soft and low, like he was trying not to spook me. “Let me take you home.”

I was nodding before I realized it. Something lit in his ocean blue eyes before he turned away and started walking. I followed, dazed, confused, and not exactly steady. When I caught up to him at the door, he placed a hand on the small of my back and led me out. He took a left down the short hallway instead of walking into the restaurant proper. I’d come through the main dining room when I’d arrived, but Lucas pushed open a door and we were suddenly outside in the back parking lot. He steered me toward the far row.

Halfway there, I stumbled and he grasped my arm to steady me. I stared at the offensive pavement, trying to see what I’d tripped over. Had to be that crack there. Must have caught my toe in it or something. Only explanation.

“Or you’re a little bit drunk,” Lucas said softly, a chuckle in his voice.

I turned my glare to him. His face lit with his laughter, transforming him into something utterly delectable. I squinted even harder.

“Who are you?” I asked incredulously. “Lucas isn’t this nice to me.”

He was silent for a moment, before he got us moving again. He didn’t answer my question, and I wanted to poke at him and find out what was going on. But I couldn’t make my tongue work, which I really didn’t understand. My mouth said whatever I was thinking when alcohol dissolved my filter.

The Camaro was new and canary yellow. The click of the key fob unlocked the car and made the headlights blink. I trailed my fingers along the hood as Lucas led me to the passenger side. Of course it made sense. Pretty man would have a pretty car.

Lucas courteously settled me into the seat and then did up the seat belt before shutting the door with a snap. When he climbed into the driver’s seat, he put the key in the ignition but turned to me before starting the car.

“Where am I going?”

It took me a second to figure out what he was asking, but I gave him directions to my apartment. It wasn’t anything fancy, just a one bedroom not far from the soundstage. It wasn’t a long drive from the restaurant, but apparently the Camaro had super abilities because I blinked and then we were there. I didn’t know why Lucas was gently shaking me though.

I smacked my lips and blinked blearily. “What? Stop.”

Lucas’s laugh was low. “Is this it?”

I glanced around and nodded. Yep. This was my complex. It took me a second to find the door handle and then another long moment to work out that I had to take the seat belt off before I could exit the car. Tomorrow, I’d be embarrassed about that. But right this second it was funny, and I couldn’t stop the chortles.

“I’ll walk you in,” Lucas said, his voice right by my ear. I turned, swaying, and stared at him. Had his lips always looked like that? Like they were made for kissing? I shook my head to clear it.

“Yes, come on,” he said, taking hold of my arm again and leading me toward the front door. I found it hard to get my keys out of my pocket. The jeans were too tight and I had trouble. Eventually I worked them free and held them up in triumph.

“God, you’re adorable,” Lucas murmured under his breath. I took offense at that and opened my mouth to protest, but a burp escaped instead. And that set me off on another giggling fit. I made a mental note to abstain from alcohol for the foreseeable future while I tried to get myself under control.

Lucas plucked the keys from my hand and unerringly found the big one that opened the front door to the building. He nudged me through and made sure it shut tightly behind us before he led me through the foyer with the mailboxes and into the hall. Then he quirked an eyebrow at me in question. I wanted to lick him.

“Where’s your apartment, Aaron?”

Good question. I squinted, looked around, and then said decisively, “Upstairs.”

He nodded, and we climbed the one flight of stairs quickly. I had to lean on the wall, but my feet worked just fine. Once we made it to the second floor hallway, he waited again for me to give direction. I started walking, squinting at the numbers on the doors until I got to 2G. I tried to take the keys from him, but he waved me off, and fit the other one on the ring into the deadbolt. It turned easily, and he pushed the door open.

I grinned, proud of myself. I’d gotten it right.

I fumbled for the switch on the wall and, after two tries, the light snapped on, flooding the tiny entryway with light. I groaned as I squinted against it, the stab to my eyeballs painful. There was a thump and then a hiss, and Lucas went still beside me.

“What was that?”

I leaned against the wall so I could toe off my sneakers. “Optimus.” I couldn’t get my shoes off. Who had tied them so tightly? I should have worn slip-ons. I slid down the wall so I could sit on the floor and get them untied.

“Optimus?”

I blinked up at Lucas, confused. “What about him?”

Lucas saw what I was doing and knelt down to help. Oh, that was nice. Maybe the laces would behave for him. “Who or what is an Optimus?”

“Him.” I pointed. Lucas slowly turned his head, then sort of cringed back against me.

“Aaron,” Lucas said, his voice low. “Your cat is f*****g huge. And mean looking.”

I chuckled, which built into an all-out laugh. I had to hold my sides so that my ribs wouldn’t explode out of my chest wall. Mean? My kitty? No way in hell. Optimus was, in fact, a huge Maine Coon, but he was the biggest lovebug ever to walk the face of the earth. As if to prove my point, he started nuzzling and rubbing against anything he could reach, which was mostly Lucas’s arm and my legs. His motor of a purr was loud in the tiny space. God, I f*****g adored that cat.

When Optimus started rubbing against my socked feet, I realized that my shoes had magically disappeared and that was the best news ever. I gave the cat a nudge so I wouldn’t step on him and tried to stand. I fell over onto my hands and knees, started laughing again, and figured it was just as easy to crawl to the bedroom. I’d only moved a couple of inches before Lucas was there, helping me to stand up.

I blinked at him. “Seriously. Who are you?”

“You need to sleep,” Lucas said instead of answering me. I let him guide me toward my room, and the moment I saw my big, fluffy bed, I breathed a sigh of relief. Oh, lying down would be so awesome right now. I pulled away from Lucas, stumbled the two steps to the foot of the bed, and collapsed on the mattress, my feet hanging off the end. It took me a couple of moments to get my limbs coordinated enough to crawl up its length, but as soon as my head was near the pillow, I turned over onto my back and sighed contentedly.

I couldn’t sleep in my jeans, because they were already pulling uncomfortably at my balls. I had trouble with the button and zipper, but I managed to get them open and started sliding them off. It was hard work, and I was panting by the time I got them to my thighs. Lucas made a choked sound.

I scowled. “I’m wearing underwear. You aren’t going to be scarred by seeing my junk flopping around.”

“Yeah, I…” Lucas made that noise again. What was wrong with him? I didn’t care. I just wanted my pants off. Finally managing it, I threw them with a flourish to the side. Much better.

“Get under the covers,” Lucas commanded, his voice rough. I glanced at him, but he wasn’t looking in my direction. Whatever. The big jerk. If my bare legs made him angry then he was a bigger fucker than I thought. Even still, the blankets sounded like a good idea, so I worked until I could get the sheet out from under me and flopped it over my body.

Lucas walked out of the room, and I felt the familiar weight of Optimus jumping up on to the bed and snuggling his body along my side. His presence and heat started to lull me to sleep immediately, and I almost missed it when Lucas came back.

“Drink some water. You need to hydrate.”

The command in his tone made me cooperate, sitting up just enough so that I could chug from the glass that he brought me. He disappeared again only to return again a moment later with another full glass. This one he set on my bedside table.

“What’s with the slippers?”

My eyes snapped open again. “What?”

“You have, like, twenty pairs.” Lucas gestured behind him toward the closet. The door was open, and the floor was clearly visible.

“Eighteen,” I murmured. I cracked one eye open and I know I sounded defensive when I added, “My feet get cold. I like slippers.”

In fact, it was sort of a thing I collected. I had all sorts—moccasins and slip-ons. Cartoon characters and thick socks with rubber grips on the bottom. I really liked slippers. My dad always got me a pair for my birthday and Christmas, and I couldn’t resist the impulse to buy them if I saw a pair I liked.

“Okay,” he said soothingly. “Go to sleep. Do I need to get a bucket or something?”

I shook my head. I rarely got sick when I drank, even after having so much. I just needed to sleep it off. Come morning, I’d be fine.

“All right. Sleep well.” Lucas’s voice was soft, and I knew my sleepy, fuzzy brain interpreted it as affection that wasn’t actually there. I’d be mad at myself later for that. But sleep was pulling me under and I’d deal with that tomorrow when I wasn’t drunk and tired.

I was only vaguely aware of Lucas leaving.