The Realist (The Vers Podcast #3) Read Online Riley Hart

Categories Genre: Contemporary, M-M Romance Tags Authors: Series: The Vers Podcast Series by Riley Hart
Advertisement

Total pages in book: 78
Estimated words: 75496 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 377(@200wpm)___ 302(@250wpm)___ 252(@300wpm)
<<<<715161718192737>78
Advertisement


That didn’t feel right, though. I could see the person Marcus was, and I felt a strange connection to that.

“No worries. You’re right. He’s never wanted a big deal being made about the things he does.”

“Can I ask how you met?”

Declan glanced over his shoulder and said, “Just a sec,” before going to help a customer and then coming back to me. “Marcus and Corbin met online. It was a message board for queer people. Neither was out yet, so they bonded over that but had never met. Me and Park had become friends—well, he pushed his friendship on me.”

“And it was the best thing to ever happen to you.”

“That and Sebastian, yeah. But anyway, so they were talking, and me and Parker were talking. Corbin had some struggles in school, and after an embarrassing incident, Park went to comfort him. I always went where Parker did, so then the two of us got close to Corb, and we all met up with Marcus.”

“He didn’t go to the same school?”

“Nope. He went to private school.”

For whatever reason, it made me sad to think about him being away from them. Had Marcus had anyone at his school he could be himself around? Be close with? As much as he said his parents loved him, they hadn’t been close, so all I could picture was Marcus being alone. An ache started deep in my chest, a constant throb there.

“We used to ride the bus to his house. His parents were always working, so it was our hangout. I stayed with him sometimes when shit was going down in my life. Half the time, his mom and dad didn’t even know.”

“Yeah, he told me they’re workaholics and didn’t have much time for him.”

Wrinkles formed on Declan’s forehead as his brows drew together. “He told you that?”

My pulse skittered beneath my skin. “Yeah, is that a big deal?” The question was dumb and maybe kinda fishing because I knew the answer. I’d known it as Marcus was talking to me the other night. He didn’t offer pieces of himself to just anyone, and he didn’t do it freely. I wasn’t sure what it meant that he’d shared with me, but I recognized the gift he’d given me.

“It’s…interesting,” Dec replied. “I just—”

“Nope. Sorry, handsome. You’re not doing that. People joke around and call Marcus Daddy—hot, by the way—but I’m thinking that’s also you. There’s nothing you need to worry about.”

“Fine, you’re right. I don’t understand this. My whole life, I had Marcus, Parker, and Corbin and no one else. Then I fell in love with Bastian, and now I’m feeling things all the time. I have more friends, and I’m always worrying about others. It’s annoying.”

“Do you know you? You’ve always been a caretaker, Declan. You and Marcus have that in common. Now, leave me alone so I can work. My boss is a real asshole.”

“Sometimes I think you forget you’re talking to your boss when you are.”

“I don’t forget anything, handsome.” I winked and walked away.

A few minutes later my cell vibrated against my leg. We weren’t busy, so I tugged it out, surprised to see Archer’s name on the screen. He was one of the few people I used to feel fairly close to. We’d hung out often for a few years before he moved to Atlanta.

“Can I take my break?” I asked Declan, who said yes.

“Hey…you’re calling. People never call nowadays,” I joked as I made my way through the back door and outside.

Archer laughed. “This is important, so I figured it required more than a text. Are you still bartending at Driftwood?”

“Yep.” Why was he asking me that?

“I have a proposition for you. I’m working on opening a new bar in Midtown. I’m going to need good people to work with me, and someone who can be my right-hand man. Someone like you. You’re good at socializing and publicity, and we both know I can be a bit of a dick.” Archer chuckled.

Was he asking me what I thought he was?

“Anyway, it’s gonna be lit. I have a great building. It was a gay bar that closed down, and we’re remodeling it.” Archer was a trust-fund baby and had the money for something like this. I imagined whatever he was doing would succeed. “I have a shitload of plans. I’ll email you photos and what I’m thinking. Can you imagine what we could do together?”

Archer had always been fun. He wasn’t lying that he could be a jerk, but not always. People wanted to spend time with him, and yeah, a club run by him? The possibilities were endless.

My heart raced, but my stomach twisted, unsure. “Are you asking me if I want to run a gay bar with you? Just making sure I’m understanding you right.”

He gave another chuckle. “Yeah, man. What do you think? We can discuss wages and all, but you know I’ll do you right.”


Advertisement

<<<<715161718192737>78

Advertisement