Clare

  Because it was core dancing hour and few people were ordering drinks, I decided to step outside to take a breather in the breezy back alley behind the Lounge. As I pushed open the door and stepped into the cool night air, I felt a sense of relief wash over me.

  But then I heard it—a muffled sound, something that didn’t belong. Curiosity and a sense of unease gripped me as I walked further into the shadows. That’s when I saw them. Elijah, the boy I had been infatuated with since the moment I laid eyes on him, was leaning against the wall, his head thrown back in ecstasy. Kneeling in front of him was another boy, and his head, which was pressed to Elijah’s crotch, was bobbing rhythmically.

  My heart stopped. I couldn’t believe what I was seeing. Elijah, who looked like the epitome of gentleness, refinement, and thoughtfulness, was the last person I would have ever thought of discovering in a public intimate act with another boy. I had never realized he was bisexual, and as such, the shock of the scene hit me like a tidal wave.

  I must have made a sound because Elijah’s eyes snapped open and locked onto mine. For a moment, time seemed to stand still. His gaze was intense, unwavering, and I felt a strange mix of emotions—betrayal, confusion, and an unwilling arousal at the raw display of passion. He held my gaze, his eyes boring into mine, as he reached the peak of his pleasure. His body shuddered, his eyes narrowed, and he let out a deep, guttural moan that seemed to echo off the alley walls.

  The man at his feet gagged and coughed, trying to pull away, but Elijah didn’t let him. He pressed his head down while holding my gaze. Another moan escaped his lips and the intensity of his climax made him close his eyes for a second.

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  During the seconds during which he closed his eyes, I came back to my senses and was going to turn back to leave when Elijah opened his eyes again, catching my gaze easily and holding me rooted in the alley, unable to move.

  There was something in his gaze, something like disdain, iciness and disregard that seemed to be directed toward me. For a second, I couldn’t help thinking that Sawyer had been right, as I felt like the emotions in Elijah’s eyes at this second seemed to be his true emotions toward me that he was finally showing. But then Elijah broke our gaze and looked down. My gaze followed his as if I could no longer control it to stare at the boy with dark roots and blond hair that was breathing hard at his feet while pressing one hand to Elijah’s knees for support.

  However, Elijah seemed to regard that boy who was looking up at him with fascinated eyes with the same disdain and disregard as he had looked at me. To my surprise, with a dismissive shove, he pushed the boy, who stumbled and nearly fell, away. Fortunately, the boy seemed to have expected Elijah to shove him away as he caught himself on the wall and simply sat on the floor, leaning on the wall and pushing his hand into his open pants.

  Realizing what he was about to do, I looked away, catching Elijah adjusting his trouser. Like the sight of the suit pants he usually wore to work could bite me, I looked away and caught his gaze that seemed to have never left me. This side of him and the intensity and rawness of his gaze made me feel rooted to the spot, unable to look away, my mind racing to comprehend what had just happened.

  Finally, he broke the silence, his voice low and husky.

  “I guess now you know,” he said, a hint of a smirk playing on his lips.

  The casual cruelty in his words made my blood run cold as I realized that Sawyer had been right.

  The boy I thought I knew, the boy I had admired from afar, was nothing like I had imagined. As he turned and walked back into the bar, I stood there, shattered and bewildered, the reality of who Elijah truly was warring with the perfect image of him that I had crafted in my mind.