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Everyone smiled, laughed, danced, and tied one on as Fletch sat on the sidelines. His head pounded. Black thoughts clouded his mind. The sight of July hadn’t always made him this way.

When they first met at The PlayPen, July had been different. He had looked like a hot mess after playing dress-up. July had been sweet and shy. He had sat between Fletch’s thighs and leaned back against his chest so Fletch could read to him. That had been a great night. He had felt like someone’s daddy again. As much as Fletch enjoyed a brat, that had been a peaceful night. Fletch had left there wanting more. Then July had made more friends than only Fletch and Leary. July’s confidence had grown, and he had brought forward his real self. Bright skirts with kid-like t-shirts were his norm. He was someone different from the Little Fletch had read to that first night. Not that it mattered. Neither version of July had been real. Seeing July today weighed heavily on him. He was angry, hurt, and then angry again. July had pretended to be their friend. He had played at liking Fletch as more than a friend. Fletch hadn’t made the first move like he wanted. He had just gotten out of a long-term relationship right before they met. Fletch liked July too much to use him as a rebound. July was boyfriend material. But July had had him on the ropes, and Fletch had definitely wanted more. He enjoyed spending time with July more than he could’ve seen coming.

Today, he had seen the real July. The July who had been a sniper in the military, and came home PTSD-ridden. His name wasn’t even July. The person he had seen today was Juynad. Why in the fuck was that version of him sexy too? Fletch wasn’t into men who matched his skills. He enjoyed the power imbalance that came with being a daddy. He made the decisions, his boy obeyed and was spoiled. If they didn’t listen, they got spanked. A win for both of them either way. Now he was back to square one, brooding.

“You know damn well I didn’t order you to stop seeing him. Why are you sitting in the corner scowling and pouting?”

Fletch resented Beau’s accusation. Working for Beau Bosi, one of the biggest weapons dealers, was a twenty-four-hour job he didn’t go home from. That didn’t mean Beau was in charge of his emotions. Those still belonged to Fletch.

“This has nothing to do with orders. He lied to all of us.”

Beau smiled. “So I was right. This is about July.”

“Juynad,” Fletch corrected.

“Does his name matter?”

Fletch bit back an aggravated sigh. “Yes.”

“I allowed him to walk out of my office alive for a reason. Have you considered that?”

“Doesn’t matter.”

Beau shook his head, as if there was no getting through to Fletch. He walked away, disappearing as quickly as he had appeared.

Fletch pinched the spot between his eyes. He didn’t know who to be the angriest with. Beau was the one who exposed July. Now he acted as if Fletch shouldn’t care. Fuck. What was he supposed to do? Fletch went back to seething. Even the upbeat music and dancing pissed him off. Everywhere he looked, he saw only lies.

“Dance with me, Daddy.” Horror washed over July’s expression. “Oops. I mean, Fletch.”

Fuck, he was adorable. Fletch wished like hell he was ready for July. His ex, Sammie, still took up too much space in Fletch’s mind. He couldn’t cheat July out of the whole man he deserved. “I’d love to dance with you, but there’s no music.”

July hugged his Barbie against his chest. “They’re having a dance party inside Banks’ apartment. He invited me, but I’m too scared to dance alone, and Leary is busy with JJ.”

Fletch stood and nodded at his fellow poker players. “Thanks, guys. I’m out.” He left his money on the table and took July’s hand. “All right. My moves aren’t slick. I’m a big guy, but I’ll embarrass myself for you.”

July’s smile was worth the admission. “You could never embarrass me. Feeling humiliated only works if you’re more concerned with other people’s opinions than the person doing whatever other people laugh at. You’re my friend. I’m not big, but I’d slap a twink for you.”

Fletch roared with laughter. Damn, July’s company made him feel good. He needed to get his shit together and be the guy July needed. Otherwise, someone else would definitely snatch him up. Fletch was already shocked July was single. He should remedy that.

Fletch rubbed his chest. Someone else had already done that, and Fletch had been the fool.

“Hey, I need to talk to you about something.”

Fletch blinked. The past disappeared. Banks, Beau’s youngest son, filled the seat beside him. “Okay.” Even to his ears, he sounded unsure. He didn’t usually talk to Banks. Rather, Banks never spoke to him.

His eyes fixated on Fletch, looking concerned and sober. That was one thing Fletch appreciated about the Little who had stolen Banks’ heart. He kept Banks clean.

“Why haven’t I seen July or you at The Playpen? All his friends have been asking about him.”

Fletch fought the urge to growl. “I guess you forgot about how he betrayed us?”

Banks made a dismissive gesture. “Yeah. I don’t give a shit about any of that. When I opened The PlayPen, it was meant for protection for people just like him. There’s nothing stopping him from continuing to enjoy that safety… unless you’re telling me Dad ordered otherwise, because Dad doesn’t have any say in what goes on in my club.”

Fletch shook his head. “As far as I know, no one’s told him to steer clear of your club. I’m sure he stopped going because he knows better than to show his face anywhere Bosi- related.”

Banks’ expression darkened. “Are you telling me he’s afraid to come?”

Fletch shrugged. “He should be scared to come around.”