And maybe Jordy will be there, a little voice whispered inside of his head.

He pushed that thought aside. That was a stupid thought, not worthy of him. Jordy was too young, for one thing. And for another, the kid was in love with—what was his name? Danny? Dante. That was it. Nah. It was unlikely they’d be there—and besides, even if he was off-duty, he knew the kid was underage and he should do something about it. Stop thinking like a cop, he told himself as he showered. Sure, you are attracted to the kid—who wouldn’t be? But you just want to know how it all ended.

He put on a white tank top and a pair of tight jeans, examining himself in the mirror. I don’t look bad, he reassured himself, smiling at the mirror. My body might not be as tight as it was when I was in my twenties, but I’m still a good-looking guy and my body looks pretty good.

All the way to Fusions he debated whether it was smart to go in or not. Several times he was tempted to turn around and go home, forget the whole thing, watch some porn on the Web, and go to bed. But he was tired of masturbating while watching two hot guys have nasty sex. He wanted to have nasty sex, and there was bound to be someone at Fusions who’d want him, someone young and hot and horny, someone to fill up the emptiness and loneliness of the house that was too big for just one person.

Maybe I should sell it, get a condo or an apartment somewhere, he thought as he turned onto the street where Fusions was. The house is part of my problem. It’s a lot of work, for one thing, and it is too big for me, makes me feel lonely.

You don’t have any friends.

He wondered about that for a moment as he parked the car in the lot across the street from Fusions. Before Sean, he’d had a lot of friends, but they’d all dropped away. Sean hadn’t much liked his friends, and the feeling was mutual. After Sean left, he’d thought about calling them but held off. I blew them off for Sean, and now that he’s gone I can hardly try to patch things up with them, he’d reasoned. It would be a shitty thing to do, and he was tired of being a shitty person.

I need to make new friends, kick-start my life into gear again. And tonight—maybe tonight will be the first night of the new Joe Palladino.

He paid the cover charge and walked into the bar. It was already crowded, and the music was loud. He thought it was Beyoncé but wasn’t sure. He walked through the crowd, checking out some of the hot guys, and was pleased to notice some of them were checking him out as well. That made him feel better. He headed to the bar to get a drink. The bartender was hot, muscular, and wearing a white singlet that left very little to the imagination. “As I live and breathe, Joe Palladino.” The bartender grinned as he walked up to where Joe was standing. “What can I get you, babe?”

Joe tried to remember the bartender’s name and couldn’t believe he was still slinging cocktails at Fusions after all this time. The name was gone, lost in the mists of memory, so he ordered a gin and tonic with lime. He watched the bartender mix the drink and noticed he had a heavy hand with the gin. He smiled to himself, remembering what that meant—the bartender liked him. The bartender grinned as he put the drink down on a cardboard coaster with a flourish. “Fifty cents, Detective.”

Joe put a dollar bill down and took a sip. It was strong, as he’d suspected it would be. He winked at the bartender and ignored the two quarters he put down on the bar. He turned and looked at the dance floor. The song had changed, and he had no idea what he was listening to now. He just stood there and watched people, cruising and being cruised, wondering if he should approach someone—deciding finally to see if someone approached him. He was out of practice. Why make an ass out of himself when hopefully someone would come up?

And then he saw him.

Jordy was on the dance floor, underneath one of the flashing red lights, dancing like he didn’t have a care in the world. His shirt was off, tucked into the back of his loose-fitting jeans. The top of his underwear was showing, and his eyes were closed as he danced. He is a good dancer, Joe thought, deciding then and there he wasn’t going to do a damned thing about the fake ID. He was off duty, damn it, and that was all there was to it. As he watched, a guy with an unbelievably muscular body came up behind Jordy, slipping his arms around him and kissing his neck. He had dark hair, was wearing really tight jeans, and his shirt was off. Dante, Joe guessed, and smiled. Jordy had been right—Dante was a muscle god. They looked beautiful out there together on the dance floor, and in spite of himself Joe wondered what it would be like to watch them fucking. It’d be hotter than most porn I’ve seen, he mused, shaking his head and laughing at himself. But at least I know the two of them are still together and are trying to make it work. Good for you, Jordy. You deserve it.

A lean, muscled young man pushed his way through the crowd and stood next to him at the bar. Joe looked at him and smiled. He was really cute. He was lean, with a nose that was just a hair too long for his face, but whoever he was, he was in a really good mood. The young man was wearing jeans like Jordy’s—baggy and hanging low off his waist, and he was wearing a red tank top with the letters BK on the front.

Beta Kappa.

“Hi there,” Joe said. The guy was waiting for the bartender, who was busy with a couple of drag queens.

“Hi,” the young man said, giving him a radiant smile.

“Beta Kappa?” Joe gestured at the shirt with his drink.

“Very good,” the young man replied. “I’m Roger.”

“Joe.”

“Nice to meet you, Joe.” Roger stuck his hand out, and they shook, smiling at each other.

He heard Jordy quoting Chad in his head, “Fusions isn’t really Roger’s kind of place.” “Your last name wouldn’t happen to be Devlin, would it?”

Roger’s jaw dropped. “You are good.” He grinned. “Should I be impressed with you or freaked out because you’re some kind of weird stalker?”

“I’m not a stalker,” Joe replied. This kid is much cuter than Jordy made him sound. “I guess I’ll have to tell you the truth. I’m a cop.”

Roger did a double take. “Okay, now I am freaking out a little. Why would a cop know my name?” His grin got wider. “Should I be looking for the nearest exit so I can slip out after I distract you, Officer?”

“I hope not.” Joe winked. “I was hoping this was the start of a beautiful relationship.”

“Maybe it is,” Roger flirted, reaching out to touch Joe’s arm. “Nice and solid. I like that. But seriously, how did you know my name?”

“Because he’s the cop who interviewed me after Chad fell,” Jordy said from behind them. Joe turned. “Hello, Detective.”

“Just call me Joe, Jordy.”

“You know, I wondered if I’d ever see you again.” Jordy smiled. “Dante, this is Joe Palladino, one of Polk’s finest.”

Dante stuck out his hand, and Joe took it. “I want to thank you, Detective—I mean Joe—for believing Jordy.” He kissed Jordy’s cheek. “It sure would have sucked to have the love of my life locked up.”

“Well.” Joe shrugged. “Had no reason to arrest him—especially after Chad came to and said he’d lost his balance and fallen. The whole thing was a waste of time.” Not really. I enjoyed listening to Jordy’s story. And otherwise I wouldn’t be here. “How are you, Jordy?”

“I’m good, Joe.” Jordy smiled. “Do you guys mind if I talk to Joe alone for a second?”

“As long as you bring him back.” Roger’s hand brushed against Joe’s butt. Joe started a bit and grinned back at Roger.

“Jesus, Roger.” Jordy rolled his eyes. “He’s really become out of control, Joe—I should warn you.” He gestured with his hand. “Follow me.”