Only You Jerry Cole (ebooks children's books free txt) 📖

the flesh... Jackson had always had a hold over Bradley, one that he could explain only too well.

“Yeah, a drink,” Jackson chuckled in that casual, too-cool-for-school way that he always did. “You still drink, don’t you? Sydney hasn’t changed you?”

“Yeah, I still drink,” Bradley rolled his eyes. “I’m not a complete Sydney wanker yet.”

“So that’s a yes.” It wasn’t a question.

“Sure thing,” Bradley suddenly said before he could stop himself. Jackson had a way of making him speak without thinking. “Oh! But mom’s making me dinner tonight.”

“The casserole,” Jackson laughed. “How about after? Don’t you have dinner at like six or something?”

“Six-thirty,” Bradley confirmed. “And sure thing... ah, where at?”

“Wilfred’s,” Jackson offered.

“Eight?” Bradley clarified.

“Sounds good!” Jackson leaned forward on his cart and pushed the thing into motion. As he came upon Bradley, he smiled and offered a cheeky grin and wink. “I’ll see you there. Don’t be late... or else.”

It took all of Bradley’s self-control to not ask ‘or else what?’ God how he wanted to! But it was a game to Jackson, an intentional thread left hanging in the hopes that Bradley would reach for it. Already, the two men were back into their old ways.

Bradley remained in that aisle for a moment longer, wondering to himself what the heck had just happened. Had he just said yes to a date? No, no that wasn’t it. It was just a catch-up drink with an old friend... who he happened to have dated once upon a time. That wasn’t so wrong, was it?

As if to try and make himself feel better, Bradley then pulled out his phone to make sure that Sherman still hadn’t tried to call. Of course, he hadn’t, and from the looks of things he wasn’t going to be anytime soon. It made him feel a little bit better about what had just happened... but only a bit. Guilt still reigned down upon him as if he had cheated or something insane like that.

But could he even cheat? Were he and Sherman even dating anymore? Clearly, Sherman didn’t care about him that much? If he had, then he would have —

“What is taking so long!” his mother was moving down the aisle toward him like a quarter-back with a football tucked under her arm. Indeed, a few lazy shoppers had to hurry to get out of her way. “How long does it take to get a can of tomatoes!”

“Two cans,” Bradley corrected. “And you’re welcome.” He tossed the cans in her cart and fell in beside her. “Oh, by the way, I’m going out tonight after dinner.”

“Who with?” she narrowed her eyes.

He rolled his. “No one – just a friend for a catch-up drink. That’s all.”

“All right,” she responded skeptically. “Just so long as you’re not bailing on dinner.”

He wasn’t going to bail on dinner. He also wasn’t going to cheat on Sherman. This was just a catch-up drink, that was all. But if that was the case, then why did he feel so damn guilty?

Bradley checked his phone once more. Still, no call or text.

***

Bradley was only halfway through his first drink when he realized he had made a mistake.

It was actually before he even arrived at the bar that he began to suspect this was the wrong thing to do. Although Jackson hadn’t specified his intentions, Bradley suspected what they were. Yes, he could have been naïve and just assumed that his ex wanted to catch-up for old time’s sake... but even Bradley wasn’t that stupid.

In order to make a point, Bradley purposefully dressed himself down, hoping this might send some sort of signal to Jackson that this was purely on the level. He wore an old pair of jeans that had stretched out and didn’t fit him right. He threw on a crinkled, button-down shirt that he had left behind in Melbourne when he moved simply because he never wore it. And as for shoes? Try a pair of plain white sneakers that had zero style to them. It looked more like he was going to a friend’s house to babysit, rather than meeting up with an old lover.

Jackson didn’t seem to mind though. The moment that he spotted Bradley walk through the door and cross the bar to where he was sitting, he pressed his lips together and pretended to whistle. “Someone call the fashion police,” he joked.

“What?” Bradley pretended not to care as he sat down opposite Jackson. “No good?” he indicated his shirt, which he now realized had a large coffee stain near the collar.

“You always had a style about you.” Jackson leaned back in his seat, crossed his arms and smirked as he ran his eyes up and down Bradley. “Lucky you were also able to pull almost anything off.”

“Yeah... well...” Bradley shrugged as he felt himself blush. Fuck, what was he doing here?!

He hated that Jackson looked so good too. He hated his perfectly styled, short cut curly hair. He hated those thick lips and thicker lashes. He hated that square jaw, that perfectly shaped nose and the scent of musk drifting off him. He hated it all! But only because of how good it made Jackson look. Worse that Jackson knew it.

Since the day they had first met, Jackson had had a sort of hold on Bradley. A few years older, a lot more confident, and a super control freak, he’d always enjoyed the way he was able to wrap Bradley around his finger and make him do anything. Shit, even Bradley’s trip to Europe was a result of Jackson. Sitting here with him now, about to start drinking... it was dangerous.

As if to prove that this was just a casual catch-up, Bradley pulled his phone out and put it on the table so that he’d be able to see if anyone – Sherman – called. But