“I don’t watch porn,” Gabe says, still staring up Second Avenue, as if she might turn around and come back. And God, I wish she would. I’m feeling pretty forlorn myself, truth be told. Maybe I’m still trapped in the alternate tram universe, but my gut insists she…belongs back here with the three of us. I feel that way even though I’m jealous of these men for touching her. She’s simply supposed to be here. “I have a stack of magazines I found in my old man’s closet when I was thirteen and I’ve never needed anything else,” Gabe continues.
“That’s tragic as fuck, mate,” Tobias murmurs, a line ticking in his cheek.
Now all three of us are staring at the avenue in heavy silence.
“Do you think there is any way to track her down? Purely out of curiosity, of course.” Tobias asks, finally, his tone slightly more unraveled than before. I can relate. There is this sense of unfinished business that is pulling at my nerve endings and it’s become more intense the longer she’s gone. Is it possible they’re feeling it to the same degree?
“A way to track her down apart from searching for women named Elise living in New York City on social media?” Not that I plan to do that. At all. Surely. And definitely not the second I get home. “No. And tracking her down in any way, shape or form would be inappropriate.”
“Are you always such a boring old rule follower?” Tobias shifts, lets out a breath. “She did mention she works as a reporter.”
I already thought of this, but unlike him, I’m not sharing my strategy for finding her and okay, yeah, apparently I’m willing to be highly unethical when it comes to Elise. Unusual for me, to say the least, but the way she made me feel is unusual, too. The effect of her is still turning over and over in my stomach. “She didn’t mention which news outlet.”
Tobias tilts his head. “No, but ‘reporter’ gives me a valuable Google keyword.”
“Like I said, computer shit is too complicated. I just went ahead and stole her badge,” Gabe says, holding up a lanyard with an ID card dangling on the end. “Her name is Elise Brandeis and she works at the Gotham Times.”
We both gape at the foreman.
“Just when I thought this night couldn’t get any more bizarre,” I mutter, dragging a hand down my face. “You stole her property? Did you think that would earn you any brownie points when you see her again?”
“I didn’t think that far ahead. I rarely do.” At least Gabe has the grace to look slightly sheepish. “Stealing is a product of growing up with a brother and a shit ton of cousins that never left my damn house. You want something, you better take it before it’s gone. I didn’t get this big by letting someone take the last pork chop.”
Tobias is incredulous. In this one instance, we are of the same mind. “Let’s find a nice pub and have a stiff drink, shall we?”
* * *
Gabe
* * *
I face the two men across the table.
Both of them are staring at the lanyard wrapped around my fist, the ID card hidden in my hand. They want to look at Elise’s picture, but I want it all to myself. That selfish reaction makes me feel guilty, though, so I finally sigh and open my fist. And we all stare down at the picture of her glaring at the camera. Hell, I miss that glare and it’s been less than an hour.
What is going on here?
Under normal circumstances, I never would have spoken to these guys.
They’re not my people.
One is polished and permanently agitated, drinking some kind of Belgian wheat beer, instead of Budweiser or Coors Light, like a regular dude. He’s built like someone who trains like a motherfucker at the gym, instead of lifting shit and getting dirty, like me. And the other one—the porn actor? Forget about it. He’s like some kind of strange, alien species with his accent and expensive sweater. Cashmere, isn’t it? He checked his reflection in a spoon when we sat down. He talks about his penis in front of a girl. No, a woman. Bottom line, I’ve never spent actual time with anyone like him. We have nothing in common.
Except Elise.
She’s why us three very different men are sharing a drink together.
We all want her and it’s not a mystery as to why. I’m not the sharpest crayon in the box, but I’ve never been struck dumb by the sight of someone. Never gotten hard so fast in my life.
The way she snuggled into me, her breath on my throat…
A groan tries to leave my mouth, but I drown it with a sip of beer at the last second.