Bishop nodded as if he completely agreed with everything Rayne said. “Experience is helpful.”
“Of which I have none. I’ve had a lot of odd jobs but nothing outdoors.” Rayne turned back to Bishop and gave him the politest refusal Mike had ever heard. “I admire your profession, Bishop, but I’m sure I could never do your designs justice.”
“I like this guy, Hersch. It’s about time you found a friend with some manners.” Bishop’s joke lightened the mood for a moment, but Mike could tell that Rayne didn’t like being the center of attention or the receiver of anyone’s pity.
Mike wanted to help too, but he would have to somehow work around Rayne’s pride.
“You seen any good action movies, Rayne?” Edison asked. “Bishop has me hooked on the Avengers now. Who do you like, Marvel or DC Universe?”
“No one is interested in joining you guys’s cults,” Mike butted in, pulling a few laughs from the table, including Rayne. “Besides, I think he’s more of a reader. Each time I’ve seen him at the trailer, he’s had a book in his hand.”
Rayne’s eyes were hot on him, and Mike rather enjoyed it. If Rayne didn’t know before that Mike had been observing him, he did now.
“Bishop, did you design Edison’s yard?” Chelsea asked. “It’s gorgeous. I could spend all day under that willow tree.”
“Sometimes I do.” Edison gazed across his yard with fondness and then at Bishop, love shining in his eyes.
“I wanted him to be mine so badly, but all I could offer him was this.” Bishop waved at the lush landscape that was lit up with lights as the evening settled around them.
“You have way more than that to give me, and you know it.” Edison’s voice was soft but serious. “You have everything I want and need.”
“Aww,” Chelsea cooed, holding one hand over her heart as if it ached to see such genuine affection.
“You guys make me sick,” Trent grumbled, taking a long drink of his bottle of beer. “We’re trying to eat.”
“You two should talk.” Rayne elbowed Wood in jest, but of course, he had to go and make it weird.
“We’re not still making you uncomfortable, are we?” Wood rubbed Rayne’s shoulder, watching him with caution as if he could snap at any minute.
“Uncomfortable?” Bishop frowned. “Why?”
Rayne closed his eyes for a brief moment as if he was slowly counting backward from three. He opened them, and Mike could see the desire Rayne had to be anywhere but there. All he seemed to want was to sit amongst friends and have a fun, laid-back conversation where he didn’t become the vulnerable one of the group that needed catering to. The addict that had to be treated with kid gloves.
If that was indeed Rayne’s issue, then Mike could understand his frustration. No one wanted to be viewed as weak.
Rayne exhaled a breath, then blurted, “Because I’m a sex ad—excuse me—I’m a recovering sex addict, and no matter how much I tell Wood it’s okay for him and Trent to be affectionate around me, he refuses to believe it.”
“That’s, um, uh…” Edison stuttered. “I-interesting. I’ve never met a…” As if realizing what he was about to say was a bit silly and insensitive, Edison stopped talking and glanced at his boyfriend for help.
“Okay,” Bishop drew out. “I guess that’s good to know.”
Mike’s eyes were hard on Rayne.
“I’m a recovering addict too. But I’m also an anesthesiologist.” Chelsea talked while chewing loudly on her pasta salad. “And I’m a Scorpio. I love long walks on the beach and listening to thunderstorms in the dark.”
Rayne shrugged. “I just figured I’d go ahead and address the elephant that will inevitably join us in the room.”
Chelsea gave him a tired smile. “It does always have a way of coming up, doesn’t it?”
Rayne nodded, his eyes shifting to Mike.
He swallowed down the last of his beer, noticing when those pretty gray eyes followed the dip in his throat. Rayne bit his bottom lip, his lids falling half shut as if he was slipping into some meditative state. His eyes weren’t closed; instead, they were freely mapping over Mike’s chest, which even he had to admit looked good in this shirt. Mike was glad he was sitting down because he’d never had someone look at him the way Rayne was. As if he could toss him on the table and devour him right along with the meat and sides.
Mike wondered what the criteria were before Rayne was allowed to get romantically involved again. He couldn’t be expected to die miserable and alone because of bad decisions he’d made in the past. That punishment didn’t seem to fit the offense. He wanted to know what it took, what kind of partner Rayne needed in his life.
Mike cleared the lust from his throat. All eyes were on the two of them as they boldly watched each other across the dinner table. “Rayne.”
“Yes,” he answered in the affirmative, his voice almost a whisper, as if whatever Mike was about to say or ask him, he wanted it regardless.