Nothing to Gain (Learning the Ropes #2) - E.M. Denning

1

Brett

“Can I help you?” Brett asked the attractive customer. His attention snapped away from the rack of clothing and he looked at Brett with widening eyes and pink cheeks. Interesting. The guy wasn’t bad looking, if slightly on the younger side. Probably a freshman, Brett decided.

“No thanks. I’m just looking.”

Brett nodded. “I’ll be up at the counter if you need anything.” He turned and walked away. He liked the way the freshman looked at him and how he continued to when he thought Brett wasn’t paying attention.

Whoever he was, Ansel seemed to know him because when he returned a few minutes later, he spotted the lone customer over in the blue section of the color-coded thrift store and let out a laugh.

“Back again, Linden? Shouldn’t you be studying?”

Linden glanced up and shot Ansel a dazzling smile. “School just started. Let me slack off a bit at least.”

Brett glanced between them. “You know each other?” Brett asked, his voice low enough so Linden couldn’t hear. He didn’t understand his curiosity, but it probably had something to do with the way Linden looked at him.

Brett was femme. He was used to getting looks from people, everything from desire to disgust, but there was something different about Linden’s gaze.

Ansel shrugged. “He’s been in here a lot in the past few weeks.”

The brief answer sated Brett’s curiosity. “I should get to work.” He pecked Ansel on the cheek and left.

He thought about Linden all day. Stupid, but he couldn’t get him off his mind. Their encounter had been brief, and they hadn’t even exchanged names. Brett brushed it aside eventually, chalking it up to his mildly obsessive personality.

He’d gone through a six-month stint where he lived and breathed anime. That obsession went by the wayside and he got into first-person shooter video games. Then kickboxing. Brett loved to try new things, he always had. He went through fashion phases, too. Always femme. Always pretty in their own way, whether it was lace or leather. Punk or princess, or a mix of the two. That had been a fun stage. Right now Brett was into sexy sophistication. Pencil skirts. Blouses. Pretty pumps and luscious lipstick. It drove all the boys wild, too.

Brett continued to see Linden at the thrift store. Besides his job, Brett spent most of his time there. Ansel was his best friend. When Brett’s parents lost their shit when he came out, he’d turned to Ansel. And when they threw him out of the house because he made their lives too difficult, Ansel’s mom had taken him in. They folded him into their little family like he’d belonged to them all along.

Brett continued to think about Linden. He wasn’t Brett’s usual type, but something about him attracted Brett in a way he’d found no one appealing in a while. The bells above the door jingled and Linden came in. His hands stuffed in the front of his hoodie, he had the hood pulled up. Underneath it, Linden had a tight, down turned mouth.

Brett clicked his short nails on the counter. “Hey, handsome. You look positively broody today.”

Linden pushed the hood off his head and approached the counter. “Do you know a place around here where I could take Dante dancing?”

Brett hadn’t met Dante yet, but he’d heard Linden talk about him at length. He swore up and down that he didn’t have a thing for him, they were just friends, and Brett almost believed him.

“What kind of dancing?”

“He got dumped and I’m trying to take his mind off it.”

“There’re a few places around here. There’s a club nearby that Ansel and I like.”

“What do we like?” Ansel appeared from the back, where he’d been tagging new arrivals. He dropped a stack on the counter.

“Linden wants to take Dante dancing.”

“You two should come. Dante’s a bit on the shy side, but he’s a good guy. He’s usually a little more fun, but his heart is super fucking broken right now.”

“Brett owes me a dance anyway.” Ansel shrugged. “When were you going?”

“I still have to convince Dante.”

Brett almost backed out, but one look at Linden’s face and he knew he couldn’t say no. “We’ll be there,” Brett promised, earning him a hug from Linden. It took him by surprise, but he’d noticed that the more Linden got to know someone, the more affectionate he became.

The hug was fleeting, but it went on long enough to make Brett’s head spin. And that was how he’d gotten talked into going to a club with a couple of