No Good Deed - Marie Sexton Page 0,52

was better than anger or accusation. But whatever he was searching for, he apparently didn’t find it. He turned back to Warren and Phil.

“You two should have minded your own business and stayed the fuck out of it.” He glanced Charlie’s way. “We’ll make up eventually. But it won’t be today.”

He stalked out of the room, out the door, and this time, Warren let him go.

“Well, shit,” Warren said. He turned to Charlie. “I’m sorry, man. I hope I didn’t make things worse. I really thought he’d see reason.”

“It’s okay. I appreciate the effort.”

But Gray was nothing if not stubborn. And if he decided to make up, it’d be on his own time.

Jonas could tell when Charlie got back from Warren’s that he’d been crying, although he did his best to hide it.

“What was that all about?” Jonas asked.

“Phil and Warren staged an intervention, of sorts. Tried to tell Gray it was time to make up.”

“I bet that went over well.”

“The good news is he said we’d make up eventually. The bad news is he’s not ready yet.”

“I’m sorry.”

“It’s frustrating.” Charlie paced the length of his small living room, his angry energy almost reminding Jonas of Gray. “You spend your whole life trying to help people, and for what? I help my neighbors, and now a cop wants to throw the book at me for it. I help you, I lose my best friend. I mean, what the fuck is that? I’ve spent the last ten years trying to pay it forward, telling myself that helping people will somehow magically swing the pendulum in my favor. That the universe will somehow repay me eventually for my good deeds, and what do I get in return? I get kicked in the balls.”

Jonas stood, wanting to go to him. Wanting to somehow make up for it all. “Charlie—”

Charlie held up a hand, stopping him in his tracks. “I’m going to bake some cookies.”

Jonas fought the urge to chew his fingernails as he debated the problem. He hated that Gray could make Charlie so miserable. And for what? Gray had never really loved Jonas. Why should it matter to him if maybe Charlie did?

He pulled out his phone. It took every ounce of courage he could muster to dial Gray’s number. He halfway hoped Gray had changed his number since then, but no such luck.

Gray answered with a snarl. “What?”

“I think we should talk.”

“Why bother?”

“You know why, so stop being an ass.”

Gray didn’t answer.

“There’s a coffee shop down the street from the Tap House. Do you know where I mean?”

“I do.”

“Meet me there in thirty minutes.”

He hung up before Gray could argue.

Charlie was still pulling ingredients out of the cabinets, although he hurried to dry his eyes when Jonas came in.

“I’m going to the library.” Jonas hated lying to him, but knowing where he was going and why would only upset Charlie more. “I need some reference material for this illustration job I just took. I’ll be back in an hour or two.”

Jonas’s heart pounded as he drove. He didn’t look forward to seeing Gray again. Thinking about Gray at all brought up memories of sitting on Shelly’s couch, crying into his wine as Shelly listened to his self-pity. Gray had ruined Jonas’s self-image. He’d made it impossible for Jonas to stay with the only man he’d ever truly loved.

Now, Jonas needed to find a way to make peace with him.

The coffee shop was a local place, with a fireplace along one wall and shelves of books and games on the other. The front half was mostly couches and armchairs, but toward the back, past the coffee counter itself, were a few regular cafe-style tables and chairs. Jonas ordered a latte, stripped off his coat and scarf, and settled down to wait.

He’d hoped Gray had lost some of his animal magnetism in the passing years. Maybe he’d quit working out and let himself go soft. Maybe his hairline had receded. Maybe he wasn’t quite as drop-dead gorgeous as Jonas remembered.

But no. Of course not. If anything, Gray looked better. Sure, the lines around his eyes were a bit more noticeable, but rather than looking old, he looked rugged. And he seemed to be in better shape than ever. He strode through the coffee shop toward Jonas’s table, seemingly oblivious to the eyes that followed him, unaware of the conversations that stopped midsentence as he passed. He wasn’t, though. Jonas had learned long ago that Gray was one hundred percent aware of the effect