by River Jaymes
And which Alec would show up tomorrow night? The tongue-tied man from the garage? Or the easygoing, confident guy with a research fetish and shameless obsession for People magazine?
If you go, you could kiss him for real. Find out if those lips are as soft as they look.
Desperate to ease his suddenly scorched throat, Dylan picked up his mug and tossed back the rest of his beer. “I told you before, and I’ll tell you again.” He set his mug down with a determined thud, refusing to let the dumbass thoughts in his head scare him from his decision. “I’m going.” He glanced back at the burly dude with tats.
Nope. Nothing. Not a goddamn flicker.
All kissing Alec would prove was that men did nothing for him.
Dylan relaxed in his seat, finally spotting the furrow of concern on Alec’s brow.
“Listen,” Dylan said, “I’ll follow your lead. If you’re relaxed and happy, I’m relaxed and happy. No big deal.” In fact, he’d make sure it wasn’t a big deal.
Alec sent him a skeptical look. “You can keep your mouth shut if necessary?”
“Absolutely,” he lied.
Alec pursed his lips and slowly nodded. “Okay,” he said. “A little company would certainly be welcome. Tyler and I have conveniently avoided each other as much as possible. But passing him in the hallway at work and the brief meetings we’ve had so far have gone okay. Incredibly strained, but okay.”
“Sounds like we’re ready for tomorrow night then.”
Alec shot Dylan a confident smile. “I’m definitely ready.”
Chapter Five
Oh God, he was so not ready.
Like millions of downed electrical wires, Alec’s nerves crackled as he trailed Dylan down the posh hallway to Noah’s condominium. Located in Pacific Heights, Noah’s place overlooked San Francisco Bay and the Golden Gate Bridge, as exclusive as Noah’s taste in clothing. Dylan, in a surprising show of conformity, had dressed for the occasion. The sight was distracting, not to mention a complication Alec hadn’t considered when he’d assumed he was mentally prepared for tonight.
As they drew closer to the condo, the sound of laughter and muted music drifted from under Noah’s door. Dylan turned to face him and suddenly Alec needed air, so he tugged at his tie, hoping for relief.
“Quit fidgeting,” Dylan said.
“I can’t help it.”
“Dude, you have got to lighten up,” Dylan said. “You look as tense as a trip wire that’s two seconds from triggering an explosion. And remember…”
Dylan stepped forward to adjust Alec’s tie, bringing his green gaze close and those callused hands even closer. Alec wished he knew which spicy soap Dylan used, and how was relaxation even possible with Dylan around?
“Just pretend you can’t keep your eyes off of me.” Dylan gave the tie an awkward pat, his gaze shifting away as he stepped back.
Pretend. At this point Alec would hardly be pretending.
Dylan had shown up at Alec’s place wearing nice slacks, a dressy leather jacket, and a blue button-down shirt that did crazy things to the color of his eyes. Eyes that brought to mind The Look.
The moment in the bar when Alec’s brain had suffered a complete meltdown.
It was wrong, so wrong to be crushing on his new friend. Especially when said crush had Alec seeing things that weren’t there.
Like Dylan engaging in The Look, as if he returned the attraction.
Tyler and his boyfriend had taken a backseat to Alec’s more pressing concerns. Despite his previous promise, Dylan was a wild card. Who knew what the man would pull? Even worse, how was Alec supposed to engage in small talk when all he could think about was that imagined heat in Dylan’s eyes?
Dylan pressed the doorbell, and the door opened.
“Finally,” Noah said, gripping them both by an elbow and pulling them into the marble foyer. “I’m glad you’re here.” In the large living room beyond, people milled about in cocktail dresses and suits.
Noah leaned in, whispering conspiratorially. “FYI. Tyler brought that sweet piece of ass of his. And, sweetie”—Noah shot Alec a sympathetic look—“Logan is gorgeous. Everyone adores him. Did you know he produces documentaries and won a Sundance Film Festival award?”
“So what?” Dylan replied, tossing a casual arm around Alec’s shoulders, and every cell in Alec’s body hummed happily. “Alec has me and a sex swing.”
Alec’s body went from humming to buzzing in alarm, and Noah let out bark of laughter.
“Christ, I need a drink,” Alec mumbled.
“You’ll need several.” Noah winced. “Some of the talk revolves around how Tyler replaced you so quickly…”
At this point, who cares?
“No worries. I’ve got this.” Dylan steered Alec into the living room.
The next hour passed in a tense montage of guests coming by to congratulate Alec on the award, and he smiled and thanked them, introducing Dylan. Dylan, for his part, behaved. And while he didn’t do the small talk Noah’s usual crowd enjoyed, conversations revolving around art and theatre and overseas vacations, Dylan had won over just about every guest that stopped by. Including Jack Davis.
As a member of the board at Charity Regional Hospital, he was one of the richest men in the Bay Area and had come to the party accompanied by his wife. Dylan had told a joke that just skirted the edges of raunchy, and Sylvia Davis had laughed so hard Alec feared she’d undo all the Botox work she’d clearly had done.
Dylan’s easy, earthy charm—not to mention the good looks begging to be plastered across advertising billboards—won him the hearts of most of the women and quite a few of the men. Even Jack Davis, a codgery old bastard most people avoided, had liked Dylan.
Just when Alec was beginning to think he had the night in the bag, reality returned with a bitchy vengeance when he caught sight of his ex’s jet-black hair.
“Alec,” Tyler called smoothly from across the room. He placed his hand behind the blond-haired man at his side as they made their way in Alec’s direction. “Good to see you.”
The buzz of conversation around them dropped several decibels. Every guest studied the two during his ex’s approach, as if expecting—hoping?—for an embarrassing scene.
Dylan must have noticed. “Goddamn vultures,” he murmured as he threw his arm across Alec’s shoulders again.
Unfortunately, the rubbernecking taking place made the comparison just a little too accurate.
Dylan pulled Alec closer, leaning in to whisper at his ear. “Remember, don’t let him get to you.” Dylan’s warm breath sent goose bumps fanning down Alec’s neck. “You only have eyes for me.”
God, it was enough to make sweet baby Jesus cry.
“I’m fine,” Alec whispered firmly.
Except for the part that involved Dylan touching him.
Alec tried to put some much-needed space between them, but Dylan’s arm held fast as Tyler drew closer. Alec attempted a smile, painfully aware of the hard bicep pressed against his shoulder, the scent of man and spicy musk and something he couldn’t quite identify.
When the two men stopped in front of him, Alec said, “You remember Dylan?”
Tyler’s cool gaze landed on Dylan. “Of course.”
The two shook hands and seemed to be sizing each other up. Jockeying for position. Preparing for confrontation. Tyler’s iron control matched up against Dylan’s little boy, poke-it-with-a-stick-to-get-a-reaction style. A pounding throb set up house behind Alec’s right eye.
“This is Logan,” Tyler said.
Alec reached out and shook Logan’s hand. “Nice to see you again.”
Dylan’s hand on Alec’s shoulder shifted possessively to the back of Alec’s neck, like a high school football player might grip his girlfriend, claiming his territory. Alec used to hate the jocks with their cocky bluster and swagger and territorial nature. With Dylan, the posture was strangely thrilling. Alec suppressed a sigh.
Christ. When had he morphed into a teenage girl? And how
could he focus with Dylan’s thumb stroking his skin?
“I heard about the Sundance Film Festival award, Logan,” Alec went on. “Congratulations.”
“I’ve been lucky.”
Logan wore a genuine smile, and Alec should probably resent his ex’s new boyfriend for being so nice.
“I’m sure luck only played a small part,” Alec said. “How did you get started?”
“I attended Duke University’s Center for Documentary Studies at the same time Tyler went to medical school there. In fact, I just learned he grew up one county over from me. Our high schools were rivals.”
“Small world, huh?” Alec said.
The conversation hit a lull, and the low-grade tension climbed another degree. At this point, Alec would have gladly given away a kidney just to have the conversation over.
Looking as unruffled as ever, Tyler said, “What high school did you attend, Dylan?”
“I didn’t,” Dylan said easily. “By age fifteen, I was living on the streets.”
The words bowled over Alec’s discomfort, and he whipped his gaze to Dylan, almost wrenching his neck in the process.
Dylan used to be a street kid?
Mute, Alec stared at the hint of a grin on Dylan’s lips.
Logan managed to clarify the question on Alec’s mind. “You were homeless?”
“Yep.”
Alec struggled to process the news. In fact, the nonchalantly delivered admission had clearly caught the entire group off guard. Tyler’s face looked blanker than usual as he remained silent, as if the information didn’t compute. Or maybe he simply couldn’t understand Dylan’s cheerful delivery. Tyler hardly ever lost his cool. Alec had spent two years admiring his composure in the face of adversity. And Dylan appeared to be enjoying Tyler’s expression. Obviously Dylan still considered Alec’s ex-boyfriend a challenge.
Logan interrupted Alec’s thoughts. “That must have been tough, Dylan.”
Dylan hiked a shoulder. “Got my GED, some technical training, and then on-the-job experience before opening my own shop restoring vintage motorcycles.”
“My brother and I are hardcore Ducati fans,” Logan said. “Tyler and I met when Steve wrecked his bike and Tyler stopped to help.”
“I’m curious…” Tyler flicked his gaze to Dylan. “How did you meet Alec?”
Alec’s chest froze. Tyler knew.
His ex definitely knew Alec and Dylan were faking.
Alec could tell by the look on Tyler’s face. Those coolly assessing eyes landed on Dylan’s palm cupping the base of Alec’s neck, and an uncomfortable heat flooded his stomach. A gentle squeeze of Dylan’s fingers followed, mostly likely meant to be reassuring, but the pressure created all sorts of images of those hands closing around other areas of Alec’s body.
Concentrate on Tyler, not the hand at your neck.
“Dylan’s been helping me get the Harley into shape,” Alec said.
Tyler held Alec’s gaze. “About time you developed an interest outside of work.”
And defeating Proposition 8, Tyler didn’t add, probably because they’d had that debate a number of times before.
“I’ve been trying to convince you of that for over a year,” Tyler went on.
Alec refused to let Tyler claim any ownership over the decision to buy the Harley. “You also spent two years trying to get me to accompany you on your daily run, partake of your morning spinach smoothie routine, and commit to an organic, vegetarian diet,” Alec said drily.
“You didn’t take me up on any of those ideas either.”
“Maybe I just needed the right incentive,” Alec said.
“Namely, me.” The cocky smile that slipped up Dylan’s face should have been a warning. “Although…”
The look Dylan sent Alec set him on edge.
Dylan continued, gaze lit with amusement. “I had a devil of a time getting this relationship kick started.”
Alec repressed the urge to roll his eyes, his lips twisting wryly instead. “It was the sex swing that finally sold me.”
Dylan tipped back his head and laughed while Alec admired the smooth skin of his neck, the faint stubble on his jaw. Christ, he really was gorgeous.
“And yet,” Tyler murmured, “you two seem like such an unlikely pair.”
Obviously annoyed by the continued challenge in Tyler’s tone, Dylan narrowed his eyes, and Alec’s stomach grew tight. Oh God. This wouldn’t end well.
“That’s funny.” Dylan crossed his arms, his voice so low only the four men could hear. “Cuz ever since Alec and I met we’ve been fucking like Energizer bunnies on Viagra.”
Alec almost choked on his tongue. “Excuse us.”
He gripped Dylan’s elbow, dragging him to the far end of the room, weaving through the crowd as he went. Once they reached the other side of the living room, and safety, Alec leaned against the wall.
“You really don’t know when to shut up, do you?” Alec said wearily.
“I told you,” Dylan said. “It’s a gift.”
Alec let out a humorless bark of laughter. He supposed he should be grateful Dylan had behaved for so long. And Alec couldn’t decide which was worse, Dylan’s mouth, the fact that Tyler saw through their facade, or the effect Dylan’s presence had on Alec’s body. Alec absently watched his ex lean over to whisper in Logan’s ear.
“Dude,” Dylan muttered, stepping too close for comfort.
The man’s hand settled in the small of Alec’s back, and Alec’s nervous system went berserk, snapping and sparking to life. He could practically smell the electrical fire. Christ, clearly Dylan’s presence constituted the bigger problem here.
Dylan’s forehead crinkled with concern. “Are you still hung up on Tyler?”
Alec rubbed his brow, trying to ignore Dylan’s palm along the base of his spine. “No.”
Dylan shifted another hair-raising step forward. “Then what’s wrong?”
You’re standing way. Too.
Close.
With monumental effort, Alec wrestled his biggest concern into a mental lockbox and met Dylan’s gaze, which brought to mind The Look. Unfortunately that meant problems number two through ten fell from Alec’s lips unchecked.
“Everyone here knows Tyler and I still run the clinic together,” Alec said, trying to ignore Dylan’s scent. What was that delicious smell anyway? “Most of these people are friends or donors. Some are both.” And while Tyler’s presence had at one time turned Alec into a mute fool, apparently Dylan’s proximity left him with a severe case of verbal diarrhea. “And they help keep the Front Street Clinic’s doors open, but they’re a little too interested in our breakup. I mean, way too interested. Did you see the people staring at us?”
“Alec—”
“It’s like being placed under a microscope.”
Dylan’s fingers began a soothing rub, sending seductive signals Alec knew were false, but his brain short-circuited anyway, his voice climbing an octave.
“Everyone is waiting for my reaction,” Alec went on, the words stumbling out. “Probably hoping for me to break down. And I know he knows we’re lying, Dylan. I can —”
“Stop,” Dylan said, stepping close enough to kiss.
~~~***~~~
Alec seemed incapable of stopping. All Dylan could do was watch his friend continue, that mouth moving faster and faster, desperation in his voice. Guilt settled beneath Dylan’s breastbone. The blame lay squarely on his shoulders. The whole backup boyfriend had been his idea. Alec had been awesome about facing Tyler tonight, easily holding his own with that wry sense of humor. Until Dylan opened his big, fat mouth.
If Dylan hadn’t insisted on this whole charade, Alec would be handling the party better. The feeling in Dylan’s chest responded, as if on cue, with a little protective twitch of anxiety.
Dylan tuned back in to Alec’s ramblings.
“…I see it in Tyler’s eyes. I can hear it in his tone.” Alec was really worked up now, as if the first few minutes had only been th
e warmup. “I can feel it in the way he looks at me. I can feel it in the way he looks at us.”
Dylan placed his hand on the wall by Alec’s head and leaned in to catch his gaze, trying to block the view of his ex. “Alec, man, you gotta relax—”
Blue eyes wide, Alec looked really agitated now. “And, Christ,” he squeaked out, literally squeaked, “what does that make me?”
Jesus, the man was going supernova.
“I’ll tell you what that makes me,” Alec said, that mesmerizing mouth moving faster. “It makes me the ditched, desperate ex-boyfr—”
Dylan did the only thing he could think of. He leaned in and kissed him.
You wanted to know how this felt.
While Dylan told the voice in his head to friggin’ shut the hell up, he realized Alec had gone completely still.
For a few heart-thudding moments, Dylan thought Alec was going to freak out, so Dylan placed his free hand on the man’s chest, confining him against the wall. Hoping to give Alec time to pull himself together. Willing his friend to calm the fuck down.
Keeping his mouth trapped against his.
Besides, Dylan had come to the party as the boyfriend. No shame in an innocent display of PDA. And when he finally allowed his brain to process the sensations darting around his nervous system, he noted how supple Alec’s lips were. How soft.
Just like he’d imagined.
Oh, man…
Their lips locked, and his pulse spiked higher, the incident lasting longer than he’d intended. Dylan had started out with the intent of a simple peck on the lips, just to put an end to Alec’s babbling and hopefully show Tyler a thing or two. And Dylan had been so caught up in congratulating himself on the brilliant idea—two birds, one fucking brilliant stone—he hadn’t considered the repercussions. He’d been too busy to listen to the thoughts whispering in his head, like his need to know how Alec tasted.
Jesus, something that he couldn’t unknow now.
The disturbing thought fled when Alec gripped the edges of Dylan’s jacket and lifted his chin to meet the kiss head-on, shoving the moment from way-better-than-expected to smokin’ hot. The change was entirely too much to process, so Dylan closed his eyes and turned his brain off.
