Trouble in Paradise

Chapter XI - Luke

Present

There will never be a day where you're not enough for me. Liar! Big fat fucking liar!

"Stop. Thinking. About him!" Fucking Wells. "And stop cursing me in your mind and finish getting dressed."

"Ok, ok!" The asshole knows me so well.

I've stayed at Wells' for the past month and today we're going out. Do I still go to bed crying? Absolutely! But the pain has allowed me to breathe more and more each day. Today proves it.

This is my first night going out as a single man and it feels weird. I've never been single. How do you even act when you're single? Do I buy a special shirt, dance at a specific corner of the bar so guys can flirt with me? I don't know. I've never learned because anytime I visited a club I would get lost in Peter's eyes and could see nothing but him.

Today, though. Today I see something else. I see possibilities and a future I didn't want a month ago. I thought not having Peter was going to kill me but I guess it's true what they say. What didn't kill me made me stronger.

Stronger, bitter, sour.

"Okay, I'm ready. How do I look?"

"Damn, Luke! I would tap that if you weren't like a brother to me. Wait! Nope, nope... I imagined it, aaaand now I want to throw up."

"Shut up and let's go before I change my mind."

That gets Wells going. Much to my dismay he'll do the driving tonight. He is making the sacrifice of not drinking so I can, but getting in a car with him always makes me nervous.

When we arrive the club is packed. It's like a pool of gayness that I'm as excited as I am terrified of jumping in. I don't know if it's written all over my face that I'm newly single but men are looking me up and down like they're predators and I'm prey. It gives me a sort of new confidence I never thought I needed.

I've known the owners of this club for a while thanks to Peter so Wells and I skip the line and go right in, making a beeline toward the bar.

"Alright, Luke. Tonight this is your playground." Wells signals the bartender, "Whiskey sour for my friend, and a bottle of water for me."

One, two, three whiskey sours is exactly what I needed because an hour —or who knows how long— later, I feel light and free. I dance with Wells and every man that asks me for a turn, and I let myself loose on that dance floor. Wells and I flirt together for attention, and with others for a good time but one man in particular draws me in.

"Hello, pretty thing."

Wow! His voice alone sends a current down my body but seeing him up close is my undoing. This man is a gorgeous tall and blond version of Jason Momoa. Missing the scar on the eyebrow of course.

"Wow! You're so hot!" I can't stop my mouth from running free. The alcohol is the one making conversation right now, not me. "You look like an educated Tarzan. Unless... are you educated? Yeah, you look like you are."

The guy chuckles and I feel Wells behind me hearing his voice seconds later. "Control yourself, child. Don't make it so easy for him."

I turn around with eyes wide. "Are you looking at him?" I shout, "He's hot! Look at him. His muscles have muscles." I feel myself being turned around by big arms. I trip over my own feet and end up falling forward onto the giant's arms. "My hero!" I tell him looking up to meet his eyes. I see a smile that can mean anything. The same smile that he who shall not be named gave me whenever he wanted to devour me. "I want to climb you, can I climb you?"

"You can do whatever you want gorg—what the fuck?!" My giant falls forward only staying up because of the table he leans on to steady himself.

"What are you doing to him, asshole?" I recognized Peter's voice and flinch.

Giant looks back asking if I know the guy who just pushed him and for the first time I lie for no reason other than to not be associated with the crazy man who dared to push a giant.

Peter grabs my arm and pulls me toward himself and I scream at the top of my lungs, "STRANGER, DANGER! STRANGER, DANGER!" throwing Wells into a laughing fit behind me. What he finds so funny I don't know.

Out of nowhere, big arms tried to pull me away from Peter. "Who the fuck are you?!" Peter asks the giant. Rage steaming out of him.

Without a blink, the Tarzan-looking guy says, "I'm whomever the fuck he wants me to be, and right now he wants me to be the guy who beats your ass if you don't let him go."

The guy grabs Peter's shirt and I shout, "Get'im Tarzan, get'im!" At the same time Peter says, "Luke you're coming home with me," and finally, Wells steps up.

"Alright, alright, the pissing contest is over. Peter, out!" Wells points out to the door, "Tarzan, or whatever your name is, give me your number. My friend is drunk and doesn't know what he's doing. If he still likes you tomorrow, I'll make sure he calls you," then to me, he says softly, "We're going home, Luke. It's past your bedtime."

I sigh and nod walking past the man fighting for me. "Bye, Tarzan!" I say in a flirty tone, and he pulls me against him making me feel every hard muscle. I whine and whimper and he chuckles once again.

"Noah, gorgeous. My name is Noah. Call me tomorrow when you feel better." He kisses the top of my head and I want to stay there using him as a pillow.

"Mine is Luke," I tell Noah and he nods when I pull away from him. I walk past Peter and growl like a rabid dog and the last thing I register is Peter's eyes wide, possibly wondering when I started talking back to him.