The Backup Boyfriend
Page 11
“Uh, yeah.” Dylan dropped the magazine to the table, trying to decide if the moment was awkward or not. “About that…”
“She didn’t seem to believe your claim.”
The amused crinkles around Alec’s eyes reappeared, and Dylan relaxed a bit.
“Man, everyone sees right through me.” Dylan smiled. “Guess I make a lousy backup boyfriend.”
A light laugh escaped Alec. “You had your moments.”
This time the pause was definitely uncomfortable. The memories of those moments crowded into the empty spaces between them, soaking up all the oxygen from the empty waiting room. Memories of Alec kneeling at Dylan’s feet, Dylan on all fours in front of Alec…
Jesus, this wasn’t helping with the awkward vibe.
Alec tucked his hair behind his ears. “What brings you here?”
Tell him the truth. Tell him you want to fix where they went wrong.
Dylan opened his mouth, but at the last moment, he lost his nerve and took the coward’s way out. “Noah’s driving me friggin’ nuts.”
A single eyebrow on Alec’s face rose higher.
Dylan stood, pacing a few steps away in hopes of easing the tension. “He’s changing the poker run all around.”
“Okay,” Alec said, drawing out the vowels. “But he is in charge this year.”
Plowing a hand through his hair, Dylan said, “I know.” He turned to face Alec and dropped his arm to his side. “But now he wants to run the whole thing in teams. Which is a ridiculously dumb idea. And the food he’s serving at each stop is friggin’ weird.”
Gaze intense, Alec said, “Dylan, why are you really here?”
Dylan stuck his hands in the back pocket of his jeans, running through his response in his mind. As the fifth anniversary of the poker run slowly drew near, the antsier Dylan grew. Five years without his best friend felt like a milestone—a really depressing milestone. The dark thoughts left him biting back the real answer to Alec’s question and the words that were filling Dylan’s chest, itching to get out.
Because I wanted to see you again.
Because I’ve missed your company.
Because I need you as a friend.
Fuck, the creepy melancholy was seriously mucking with his brain.
All Dylan could come up with was pretty lame. “I came because I hoped to talk you into being the fifth on my team for the poker run.”
“Dylan.” Alec blew out a breath. “I think—”
“Hands to myself.” Dylan held up his arms, palms facing Alec, as if taking a two-handed solemn pledge. “I promise. Besides, you don’t want to miss out on all of Noah’s hard work, do you?”
Dylan wasn’t sure why getting Alec to ride along felt so important. More important than work. More important than even the poker run itself.
“Come on, Alec.” Despite the urgency pounding its way through Dylan’s brain, he sent Alec an easy smile, hoping to take the edge out of the moment. “You got something better to do next weekend?”
Alec’s lips quirked. “Not really.”
“Good,” Dylan said, pouncing on the admission as though Alec had said yes. Best just to keep moving forward. “I’ll plan on meeting you at the starting point.”
Alec hesitated, looking if he was about to protest, so Dylan quickly went on. “Trust me, you don’t want to miss Noah wearing his hot pink T-shirt with the words Drama Queen In Charge.”
Alec laughed, his eyes crinkling in the corners, and Dylan smiled his first real smile since landing at the Front Street Clinic.
Dragon Lady appeared from around the corner, a large tote slung over her shoulders. “Good night, Alec.”
“’Night, Martha,” Alec said. “See you Monday.”
When the woman narrowed her eyes at Dylan, he smiled. “Careful you don’t trip over that motorcycle parked on the walkway,” Dylan said, enjoying the visual daggers she lobbed in his direction. “And thanks for all your help.”
Martha let out a snort as she passed by and pushed her way out the front door.
“Good employees are hard to fine,” Alec said with a wry twist of his lips. “Next time you drop in to say hello, I’d be most appreciative if you wouldn’t piss off my staff.”
The words next time echoed in Dylan’s head, feeling almost like a victory and easing the two-week-old tightness in his chest. “Sure thing, man. Whatever you say.”
Alec hesitated. “There’s a football game tonight.”
Instead of interrupting, this time Dylan knew to keep his mouth shut, feeling hopeful as Alec went on.
“Ole Miss versus Vanderbilt,” Alec said. “Should be good. You want to go grab some dinner and watch the game?”
Dylan grinned at Alec, the victory officially real. “Absolutely.”
~~~***~~~
The day of the Fifth Annual Vintage Memorial Poker Run began with a glorious sunrise and the buzz, buzz, buzz of Alec’s cellular against his nightstand. He barely stifled the moan. No need to check the number to see who was calling.
“Mom.” Alec’s pillow muffled his voice as he answered. “It’s five o’clock in the morning.”
During the pause that followed, Alec pictured her blank face, the subtext in his comment completely lost on his mother.
He tried again. “And it’s a Saturday.”
The added information didn’t seem to help.
Alec shifted to a more comfortable position in bed. “Why are you up so early?”
“I’m working on an article I’m writing for the Journal of Nanoscience and Nanotechnology.”
As usual, a stab of guilt followed. He couldn’t fault his mother for being, well, her. Like his father, she was a brilliant researcher and the ultimate geek, but loving in her own odd way. She hadn’t batted an eye when, at the age of sixteen, Alec had announced he was gay. He’d spent months working up the courage to come out to his family, and their reaction had been awfully anticlimactic. Suddenly he couldn’t turn around without being inundated with supportive pamphlets and facts and figures about gay teens, all courtesy of his mother.
She’d applied the same energy to overturning DOMA and Proposition 8.
“What are you and dad doing tonight?” Alec asked.
“Preparing our presentation for the Nano Fundamentals and Applications Conference next month.”
“Anything else? Like something that doesn’t involve work?”
Two second ticked by before she answered. “Getting Chinese takeout.”
“Sounds…” Remarkably like eating dinner. “Nice.”
How his parents had found their way out of their respective labs, much less met and married, Alec would never know. Fortunately, he and his brother had been spared their awkward social skills.
And then Alec remembered how he’d gone mute in front of Tyler that day in his garage. And how Dylan’s proximity at the party had rendered Alec a babbling fool.
Okay, so maybe he’d avoided most of his mother’s awkward social skills.
“I was calling about the awards ceremony,” she said. “Since you and Tyler are the winners, your father and I are taking the time off that Saturday to drive up and attend.”
“It will be good to see you both,” Alec said.
“We were hoping to have drinks with you and Tyler beforehand.”
Alec stifled a groan as he propped his elbows on the mattress and rubbed the sleep from his eyes. A visit from his parents was rare, but not unwelcome. Every few months or so, Alec and Tyler had climbed into the car and made the five-hour trip down to Los Angeles to see them. Having them here would be a nice change.
Except for the small detail that he and Tyler weren’t a couple anymore.
“Mom, you know Tyler and I broke up.”
And telling his mother about the split had been one of the most difficult things he’d ever done. He’d hated disappointing her.
“You said yourself, Alec. There’s always hope.”
Hope.
As his mother rambled on about statistic
s regarding breakups and reconciliation—and Christ, where did she find all her data?—Alec glanced out his bedroom window as dawn claimed the sky, the fiery sphere slowly dominating the horizon.
A week ago Friday, he’d started the day in a foul mood, missing Dylan more than he’d ever imagined. Still, he’d been convinced walking away had been the right decision. Dealing with Tyler and the strained atmosphere at work had provided a daily reminder of just how much relationships could muck with your mind. And theirs had been fairly straightforward, not the messed-up version like Alec and Dylan’s. So Alec had remained firm in his resolve to stay away from the man.
When Dylan had strolled into the clinic looking as fine as ever, Alec hadn’t been prepared for the hopeful look on Dylan’s face. The expression left Alec believing Dylan had missed him too and was dying to have him back as a friend.
And Alec had caved.
Since then they’d fallen back into the familiar rhythm of talk about bikes and repairs and football, general discussions that meant nothing, yet, at the same time, meant everything. Alec steered clear of any conversations that involved the physical aspect of their relationship. He was careful not to accidentally touch Dylan, and if the occasional memory reared its persistent head, Alec pushed the image aside. The situation wasn’t perfect but beat the misery of the two weeks alone. And Alec looked forward to spending this weekend with Dylan.
Probably more than he should.
“Alec?”
He forced his attention back to his mother.
“Are you and Tyler working things out?” she went on.
Shit. He dragged a hand down his face. His mother adored Tyler. How could Alec tell her the man had a new boyfriend? How could Alec tell her that he couldn’t stop thinking about someone else?
He wasn’t up for disappointing his mother again, especially after everything she’d done for him.
“Not really,” he said vaguely. “But I’d love to have you and Dad over before the ceremony.”
He needed to be more prepared before he shared the news about Tyler. About Dylan. About himself. Hell, he needed to figure out the truth before he could explain the facts to anyone else.
~~~***~~~
Two hours later Alec stood in the massive parking lot and tuned out the chatter of motorcyclists in various stages of preparedness, silently reciting the reasons he needed to maintain a casual attitude around Dylan. Despite the sunshine, the early morning temperatures still clung to the air, and he zipped his slim-fitting racing jacket against the chill. But he needn’t have bothered because Dylan pulled up beside him and parked. The resulting thrum of pleasure created a shimmer of heat that left Alec feeling supercharged, his skin electric.
Damn.
“You ready?” Dylan pulled off his helmet, the soft spikes of his hair looking especially rebellious today.
Alec longed to smooth out the strands, so he fisted his hand at his side. Dylan appeared completely relaxed and unaffected by Alec’s presence. The easy attitude brought to mind Dylan’s words in Alec’s kitchen that fateful morning…
“…just pretend the night never happened.”
“You can do that?”
“Absolutely.”
Alec swallowed hard, pushing the memory aside. “Ready as I’ll ever be. What are the rules for today’s run?”
“Each team member collects a playing card at the designated points along the way. The team with the best hand at each stop wins a free round of drinks tonight. There are two stops up to today’s final destination and two stops on the way back tomorrow. But the weekend is really all about the bikes.”
Alec eyed Dylan’s cherry-red Ducati Monster, a motorcycle that looked as if two-hundred-mile-an-hour speeds were not only possible but inevitable. “How many do you own anyway?”
“Seven,” Dylan said. “But I’ve been looking at various Triumph TR5 Trophys for sale. Always wanted a bike like James Dean. You should come with me some time to check one out.”
Amused, Alec said, “Have you ever considered therapy for your obsession?”
Dylan’s smile nearly did Alec in. “Absolutely not.”
Fifteen minutes and several internal pep talks later, Alec followed Dylan to meet up with their three teammates at the starting line. With almost a hundred and fifty participants, the motorcycles took off in groups, the roar of the engines creating an impressive rumble. When their time came, Alec followed Dylan out onto the highway, enjoying the feel of his Harley. The motor purred like a contented lion since the tune-up. They quickly settled into a rhythm on the road, Dylan’s five-man team sticking close together.
Charlie, a redheaded, middle-aged fireman from Sacramento, took the lead. Following him was his brother Rob, a younger, slimmer, less hairy version of Charlie. After Rob came James, an accountant from Redlands who looked like…well, an accountant. He wore wire-framed glasses, and his personality was less boisterous than Charlie and his brother.
Dylan and Alec brought up the rear, riding side by side, the position comfortable. By now they’d learned each other’s habits well enough to anticipate the reactions of the other.
And despite Alec’s conflicted feelings, being back on the road with Dylan felt right.
By the time they arrived at the first stop of the day, the chilly temperature had dissipated, the sun glinting off the rows of parked motorcycles. In the center of a large field, a huge tent had been erected and filled with tables.
They parked, and Alec followed Dylan toward the makeshift rest area. The time spent on the road must have whittled away at Alec’s willpower because he couldn’t tear his gaze from Dylan’s ass. Surely Jacob Davis and Levi Strauss had specifically pictured Dylan’s form when they’d created blue jeans.
Mercifully, a voice pulled Alec from his traitorous thoughts.
“There you two are.”
Among the sea of leather and boots and riding chaps, along with those in racing apparel, Noah approached in a neon pink T-shirt. Dylan hadn’t been exaggerating. The words Drama Queen In Charge were plastered across Noah’s chest.
Noah gestured at the swarm of motorcyclists enjoying themselves. “What do you think?”
At one end of the large tent, a woman in an evening gown stepped up onto a small stage, picked up the microphone, and began to talk. The voice was definitely masculine.
Dylan stared at the drag queen. “I think—”
Piano music filled the air, and the performer began belting out “I Will Survive” by Gloria Gaynor. Five music-filled seconds passed before Dylan looked recovered enough to speak.
“Jesus, Noah,” Dylan rasped out.
Which, apparently, tapped Dylan’s ability to form words. So Alec responded to the overly innocent What? expression on Noah’s face.
“It’s a little much for a Saturday morning in the middle of nowhere,” Alec said.
The singer hit an earsplitting high note, and Dylan finally recovered from his apoplectic state. “There isn’t even any beer to dull the senses.”
“You know the rules,” Noah said. “You made them. No drinking during the run. And Destiny’s Bitch is one of the Bay Area’s hottest attractions.”
Dylan shot Noah a skeptical look.
But then Destiny’s Bitch hit another high note, and Alec silently thanked Noah for settling for plastic cups over glass. A server wearing a matching neon pink T-shirt and the words Little Minion passed by with a platter of appetizers delicately arranged. Noah reached out and snagged two.
Dylan’s dismayed look was almost comical. “What is that?”
“Today’s refreshment, donated by my favorite restaurant, is a thin slice of green apple topped with prosciutto and goat cheese and drizzled with honey.” Noah popped one into his mouth and held the other out to Dylan. “Try one. They’re delicious.”
Dylan stared at the offering with a hint of horror. “I gotta go talk to…to… someone.”
“You do that, handsome,” Noah said before turning to Alec. “Alec and I will catch up.”
Noah stared at Alec without saying a word, and, despite the cool breeze, heat crawled up Alec’s back. He forced himself to remain calm and stuck his hands into the pocket of his jeans.
“Dylan asked me to make a fifth for the team. So in a way,” Alec said, “it’s your fault I’m here.”
Noah simply shot him a look that screamed bullshit.
“We’re just friends, Noah.”
Noah’s expression didn’t budge.
Alec tried again. “Nothing else.”
Noah finally let out a scoff. “There isn’t a gay man in the world who wouldn’t want more than that from Dylan Booth. Probably a few straight ones too.”
Alec tipped his head, a thought suddenly occurring to him. All this time he’d assumed Noah’s chastising words were in response to the potential for Alec getting hurt. Now he wondered who, exactly, Noah worried about the most.
“Does that include you?” Alec asked.
“Oh my God.” Noah tipped back his head and let out a loud laugh, nixing Alec’s previous thoughts. “Are you jealous?”
“No,” Alec said, although a part of him considered the possibility. The two men were clearly tight. And Alec wasn’t so delusional as to deny his burning curiosity about Dylan Booth. Alec suspected Noah knew more about Dylan than he let on. “I’m not jealous. But I thought maybe you were.”
Noah huffed out a breath. “I’m too familiar with Dylan to set myself up for that kind of heartache.”
Heartache.
Before Alec could process his thoughts, Dylan wandered back in their direction, looking a bit more relaxed now that Destiny’s Bitch was taking a break. Alec stared vacantly into the crowd and half-heartedly listened as Dylan began to discuss tomorrow’s route.
Was Dylan hoping for more between the two of them? So far he’d stayed true to his promise, keeping his hands to himself. In fact, he looked so unaffected that Alec had begun to reconsider Noah’s morning-after speech. Had Alec been “the hand,” a convenient way for Dylan to get off? Maybe Dylan had simply had a moment of bi-curiosity.