Chapter 8

Geoff had probably been right and he should have accepted the date with the guy who’d asked him out at Poppy’s.

Idiot.

Drake was never going to see him as anything but his next door neighbor, and if Ross broke up for good this time with the judge, then Drake would probably be moving out of the building and in with Ross.

Where would Jay be then? Just where he was now. Nowhere. 4

“May I help you, sir?” the young, attractive black woman asked Drake as he surveyed the display of scarves.

Drake didn’t quite know why he’d decided to stop at the department store where Jay worked before he made it to Ross’s house. He supposed it was because Jay had looked so sad the night before.

He smiled. “I’m looking to buy a scarf for a friend.”

“Oh, terrific. As you can see, we have a great selection.”

“Yes, but actually I already know the one my friend liked. It was a water color silk scarf with a lot of colors.”

The woman, her name tag said Franny—Drake was pretty sure this was the one Jay had mentioned—nodded. “Sure, I know the one. What a generous gift for her.”

He flushed. “Actually, my friend is a man.” And why had he told her that? Really, what business was it of some store clerk who he bought the scar for? “Anyway, do you have it?”

Franny smiled. “Yes, it’s right here.” And she took a few steps to a display area with scarves, but they looked to be knit scarves, and he was starting to get annoyed when she reached to the back and pulled out a silk looking scarf of blue, purple, green and pink.

Drake could totally see Jay getting excited over such a scarf. He didn’t get the younger man’s love for extravagant scarves, in Southern California of all places, but just the thought of the scarf draped around Jay’s neck had him grinning.

“Yes, that has to be the one he liked,” Drake said, taking out his wallet. He recalled Jay said it was something like eighty dollars. Normally he would scoff at such a thing for a flimsy scarf and, really, he wasn’t quite sure why he was willing to pay it now. But, hell, he wanted to get it for Jay and the reason didn’t matter.

He followed Franny to the register where she rang it up. He tried not to wince when the charge came out to over ninety dollars as he handed over his credit card.

“Would you like a gift box?” Franny asked.

“Yes, thanks.”

As Drake left the store and walked out to his car, he tried to think of an occasion where he could give Jay such an expensive present. His birthday had already passed for the year and Christmas was still a few months away. And he wasn’t too keen on waiting.

After leaving it in his trunk, he decided he’d just give it to Jay next time he saw him. The hell with it.

Putting it out of his mind, Drake turned to his anticipated day with Ross. Having been through Ross’s other breakups with various boyfriends, including Stan, Drake knew they’d probably spend a good portion of the day having sex. Sure he’d always ended up feeling used, especially when Ross inevitably didn’t really want him and went back to whatever boyfriend, but he couldn’t seem to break this endless cycle of always running to Ross’s rescue.

The night before, though, when he’d put Ross off to stay with Jay had been a first.

Drake parked his sedan in Ross’s long winding driveway, and after turning off the engine, he studied the house. It was a three-story mansion really. In one of the best of the best neighborhoods in Beverly Hills. It had belonged to some old-time Hollywood legend. Drake had forgotten who.

As an assistant district attorney, Ross couldn’t afford such a house any more than Drake could on his detective salary. But this house actually belonged to the judge, Stan.

It was funny to Drake that every time Stan took off after he and Ross had a fight, Stan was the one who left his cushy house, and Ross stayed in luxury. He supposed it showed just how much Ross really had Stan wrapped around his finger.

Just like you.

The front door opened when he approached and Ross stood in the doorway wearing only a bathrobe. His sapphire blue eyes were red as though he’d been crying, his inky black hair stood on end every which way, and his pale ivory skin was marked by two bright pink spots on each cheek. He was breathtaking.

“What took you so damn long?” Ross demanded, his voice laced with scorn and thick with tears. “I’ve been calling and calling.”

Drake winced. “Sorry, I forgot to turn my phone on this morning.”

“Bastard,” Ross said, but pulled him inside the house and flung his arms around Drake. Before he could say anything, Ross’s lips were on his, his tongue demanding entrance into Drake’s mouth.