The Backup Boyfriend

by River Jaymes

  Alec hesitated. “Probably.”

  Tyler’s gray eyes studied Alec, and something passed between the two. “Sorry.”

  “Me too,” Alec said quietly.

  What the hell was that all about? Dylan gripped the armrest of his seat, his thoughts interrupted by Noah.

  “This is Jack’s way of persuading us to team up with his hospital for an annual fundraiser.” Noah eyed Tyler. “But some people are being stubborn.”

  Tyler looked at Noah, his voice firm but calm. “I said no.” He rose to his feet.

  “We’d be fools to pass on his proposition.” Noah looked up at Tyler. “It’s like throwing money away, for chrissakes.”

  Ignoring Noah, Tyler went on. “I’m going to get a drink. Anybody need anything while I’m up?”

  Dylan needed for the man to be gone. He needed for Alec to quit talking to his ex as if they’d been friggin’ boyfriends for years. Most importantly, Dylan needed to understand why he needed those things.

  When Alec murmured no, Tyler headed toward the bar. Noah leaped up to follow, and a concerned expression crossed Alec’s face as he watched the two cross the room.

  “Tyler’s perfectly capable of handling Noah,” Dylan said.

  “I’ve never seen Tyler so ruffled before.”

  Dylan studied the two men at the bar. Tyler relaxed against the counter as he shook his head in refusal while Noah gestured in that melodramatic way of his.

  “He doesn’t look ruffled to me,” Dylan said.

  “I can tell.”

  Yeah, because they’d lived together for two fucking years. Dylan couldn’t commit to a cell phone service for that length of time.

  “I think we’ve got a disaster in the making on our hands,” Alec said.

  Dylan cocked his head. “A ran-out-of-gas kind of disaster? Or a Titanic disaster?

  Alec ticked his gaze to Dylan and smiled, resting his hand on Dylan’s thigh and leaning closer. For a moment Dylan thought Alec was going to kiss him, and Dylan’s muscles grew rigid. Alec must have felt him tense, because, at the last second, he reached across Dylan’s lap and picked up a cheese stick from his plate. Dylan relaxed.

  Kissing was good. Kissing Alec was great, but Dylan didn’t do public displays of affection.

  He hoped the grin he sent somehow compensated for his stupid hang-up. “Or maybe a Destiny’s Bitch kind of disaster.”

  Alec let out a huff of humor. “Much worse than a drag queen show at a poker run.” He dipped his cheese stick in the marinara sauce and sat back in his chair. “Noah has managed to convince a camera guy and a director to volunteer to film advertisements for the bachelor bid.”

  “Did he seduce them? Or harass them until it was either surrender or throw themselves off the Golden Gate to end the agony?”

  “I don’t know. Either way, if we agree to Jack Davis’ plan, we need a celebrity to shoot the ads. Unfortunately for Tyler, he used to date Memphis Haines.”

  Dylan watched Alec take a bite of his cheese stick. “Isn’t he some stunt guy?”

  Alec swallowed and wiped his mouth with a napkin. “That’s the one,” he said. “But mostly he’s known for his Fifth and Taylor advertisements.” When Dylan’s brow bunched as he tried to place the name of the store, Alec continued. “The designer underwear ads.”

  Dylan’s eyelids stretched wide. “The nearly naked dude on the billboards?”

  “The very one.”

  “How did Noah find out?”

  “I…uh…”

  A sheepish Alec looked kinda cute, and it was doing strange things to Dylan’s chest.

  Alec grimaced and went on. “I accidentally mentioned that Tyler had a famous ex-boyfriend. When Tyler shot me down with his gaze, I had to make something up to cover.”

  “Dude,” Dylan said with a laugh, his first since Tyler had arrived on the scene today. “You’re a terrible liar.”

  Alec frowned, but his heart wasn’t in it. “I’m going to take that as a compliment.” He blew out a breath. “Anyway, somehow Noah sniffed out the truth. And now he’s harassing Tyler to ask Memphis to star in our ads. Tyler is refusing. Noah says he’ll just visit Memphis himself, using Tyler’s name.”

  “Sounds like your usual Noah fuckup waiting to happen.”

  “Don’t remind me.”

  Alec tucked his hair behind his ear. The thick waves appeared to have been through the wringer, as though he’d spent the day shoving his fingers through the strands in frustration. Dylan wasn’t sure if the frustration stemmed from the friction between Tyler and Noah or Alec’s worries about raising the matching grant money.

  “What do you think of the Bachelor Bid plan?” Dylan asked.

  Dylan studied Alec carefully as the man glanced at his ex. Another worried look crossed Alec’s face, and Dylan felt the emotion all the ways to his goddamn work boots.

  “I think the plan is sound,” Alec said. “But it’s not worth risking Tyler’s peace of mind.”

  Alec still cared about Tyler.

  Okay, maybe not in an I-want-you-back kind of way, but he clearly didn’t hate the man. Normally Dylan didn’t encourage hostility between people—peace and good will and all that bullshit worked just fine for him.

  But…damn.

  “I’m sure the clinic will raise enough money to match the grant in time,” Dylan said.

  “If we don’t, our plans for housing will be seriously delayed.”

  Alec stared blankly at the field below, obviously lost in thought and totally unconcerned as the Tigers attempted a first down and missed. Dylan hiked his ankle up to rest on his knee and wished he could fix the funding problem for Alec. No one knew better than Dylan that providing housing for their most vulnerable patients was vitally important. Expecting Alec to stay away from Tyler bordered on being one of the most selfish ideas Dylan had ever had.

  And he’d had some doozies, for sure.

  The two men ran a clinic together. They provided a crucial service. Of course they needed to get along, but a hint of lingering tension would be nice. A residual resentment would be awesome. But maybe Alec missed having a full-time partner in his home. Maybe he wanted someone who actually liked to touch in public.

  Or maybe Alec simply missed blowjobs.

  Dylan’s stomach took a Screamin’ Demon nosedive for the floor.

  Fuck, what a stupid thought. Dylan slumped in his seat and watched the Tigers rally on the fourth down and gain fifteen yards on a spectacular pass. The fans below jumped to their feet, their screams and catcalls and fog horns muted by the thick glass.

  Dylan briefly pressed his lids closed, his mind spinning.

  Communication. After the hot, Da Vinci-inspired moment in Dylan’s garage, he’d promised to work a little on his communication skills. ’Course, at the time, he’d meant it in regards to sex, but maybe he should follow through on that promise in another way.

  “So…” Dylan cleared his throat, keeping his voice low and hoping he didn’t sound as moronic as he felt. “At one point in my sordid past, I gave blowjobs in exchange for money.”

  Chapter Thirteen

  Alec’s breath whooshed from his lungs, and his stomach contracted with a sickening lurch. Christ, he felt as if he’d been tackled from behind. The need to pull Dylan into his arms and hold him was overwhelming. He knew Dylan would hate the response, so he gripped his chair and forced himself to focus on the activity below. The opposing team blocked a field goal, the chorus of groans from the crowd filling the silence between them as Alec struggled for something to say.

  Dylan kept his eyes on the game, his posture relaxed as he reached for the beer sitting on the side table. Even the fingers wrapped around his mug looked loose. The absence of a white-knuckled appearance threw Alec off kilter. How could Dylan drop such a bombshell and act so nonchalant?

  Three seconds ticked by before the muscles around Dylan’s mouth tensed, betraying his emotions.

  Dylan still refused to meet his gaze. “Aren’t you going to say
anything?”

  Alec tried to swallow, but his throat felt too tight. “I think you’re one of the most amazing men I’ve ever met.”

  The scoff that ripped from Dylan held a fair amount of skeptical amusement. “You’re too goddamn nice, Alec. We gotta work on that.”

  But Alec didn’t buy any of the garbage that sprang from Dylan’s mouth, especially now. The moment felt huge. Pivotal. And Alec felt inadequate. Unfit for the conversation ahead. All those stupid letters after his name, all those degrees he’d earned, and not one of them had helped prepare him for this task.

  He struggled for the right words as he stared at Dylan’s profile. “Don’t tell me you feel ashamed… because you shouldn’t.”

  The thought actually hurt. Dylan lived his life wide open, not giving a damn what other people thought about him. And that was all well and good.

  But what did he think of himself?

  Dylan paused long enough to blink twice. “No shame here,” he said, finally meeting Alec’s gaze. “I did what I did to survive on the streets, and I don’t regret a thing. Regret’s a useless emotion anyway. But…”

  His lips twisted wryly. Alec waited, not moving a muscle. Any reaction on his part could be misconstrued as judgment or pity. And Dylan clearly tolerated neither.

  Dylan heaved out a breath. “I’m just sorry it’s ruined things for you.”

  “For me? What are you talking about?”

  “I can’t”—he rolled his hand as if to help the words along—“you know.”

  “My God, Dylan,” Alec said, leaning closer. “Do you really think I care about that?”

  Dylan scowled, his expression obviously stemming from confusion, not anger. “Shouldn’t you?”

  The question was horrendous, heartbreaking, and so perfectly, perfectly Dylan.

  Dylan chewed on his lower lip and turned his attention back to the field. Alec used the time to scan Dylan’s profile and the puzzled look on his face. Apparently, Dylan couldn’t understand Alec’s lack of concern about a sexual hang-up that affected him directly. After the weeks they’d spent together, is that still all Dylan felt the two of them were good for? A great fuck?

  Pressure built in Alec’s chest, a pressure so great Alec’s heart rate dropped in response. Time slowed. The sound of the crowd faded. His field of vision narrowed to Dylan as awareness buzzed through him, skirting the edges of something so big, so monumental, the magnitude rendered him unable to move. And then the truth hit with a ruthless force.

  He loved Dylan.

  The knowledge was sharp, brutal, and unforgiving. Dylan had started this relationship on a lark, and Alec had fallen in love. Alec’s lips twisted wryly, biting back the hysterical laughter threatening to bubble to the surface. Noah had been right all along.

  Damn, there’d be no living with his friend when he learned the truth.

  The words from Dylan and Alec’s first time in bed came back.

  It’s just sex. It doesn’t mean anything.

  It doesn’t mean anything.

  Alec tried to wrestle the growing fear into submission, feeling about two seconds away from a mental meltdown. He loved a man who had yet to define his sexual orientation, a man who called himself Alec’s backup boyfriend because, as far as Alec had been able to ascertain, he’d never even been in a serious relationship with a woman. Ever.

  Jesus, Alec couldn’t even touch him in public.

  Good God. Panic appeared to be the only viable option.

  The throb at Alec’s temple felt powerful enough to burst a blood vessel. But of all the choices he had, coming unglued wasn’t one of them, not when Dylan had shared such an important part of his past. And, as Alec struggled to find the right words, Dylan finally went on.

  “The last time I turned a trick, I just wanted enough money to buy a hamburger.” Dylan let out a bitter bark of laughter. “And not just any hamburger. I wanted the deluxe double cheeseburger from Swanson’s Diner.” He shook his head and looked at Alec. “Isn’t that the stupidest thing you’ve ever heard?”

  “No.”

  Dylan ignored Alec and kept on talking. “But the shithead was big, and he got rough, and I couldn’t breathe. I felt like I was choking.”

  Alec’s eyes burned, and his words came out hoarse. “How old were you?”

  “Fifteen.”

  Christ.

  Alec gripped Dylan’s shoulder, but Dylan shifted until he was just out of reach, and Alec’s hand dropped to his lap. Any physical act of support wouldn’t be welcomed by Dylan, especially not in public, no matter how much Alec hurt for the boy Dylan had been. The reminder of the one-sidedness of their relationship left Alec feeling drained.

  “I friggin’ lost control over my mouth and throat, no coordination at all,” Dylan went on. “So when he came, I thought I was drowning.”

  Pulse pounding now, Alec struggled to keep the pain and the fury on Dylan’s behalf from showing.

  “Anyway,” Dylan said with a shrug, “it turned out fine in the long run.”

  “How the hell can you say that?”

  Dylan sent Alec a small smile. “Cuz I stopped selling blowjobs after that. And a few hours later, I’d mentally recovered enough to hunt the SOB down. I found him getting rough with Rick.”

  “The night you two met.”

  “Yep,” Dylan said. “Gave me an even better reason to punch him. ’Course, the coward got me with the broken bottle in the back.” A grin crept up his face. “But the fight was fun while it lasted. Afterward, Rick patched me up, and I bought him dinner at Swanson’s Diner.”

  At fifteen, Dylan had dealt with a horrendous experience by saving a stranger from an abusive john, making a new friend, and eating a deluxe double cheeseburger.

  “I said so before, and I’ll say so again,” Alec said, slowly shaking his head. “You are an amazing person, Dylan Booth.”

  “And don’t you forget it.”

  Despite everything, the return of the cocky light in Dylan’s eyes made Alec smile, the mix of self-confidence and embarrassment in Dylan’s expression overwhelmingly endearing. A familiar flutter under Alec’s breastbone made him painfully aware of his predicament. And, as he tried to wrap his mind around all that had been shared, only one question remained.

  How to survive loving Dylan without losing his mind.

  ~~~***~~~

  The Wednesday after the Tigers game, Dylan entered the combination into the keyless entry on Alec’s front door and let out a sigh.

  Man, what a sucky day.

  His air compressor had finally taken its last gasp, and the replacement he’d purchased had been missing vital parts. He’d assumed the brand-new one would come complete with a regulator as stated on the box. He’d assumed wrong. By the time he’d made his way back to the hardware store and returned to the garage, missing regulator in hand, Dylan had been about three hours behind on an already busy hump day. The rest of the afternoon he’d scrambled to catch up, a feat he never quite accomplished.

  Fortunately, everything was about to take a turn for the better.

  With a prolonged beep, the lock released, and Dylan entered the house, inhaling the scent of garlic, herbs, and tomatoes. Alec’s afternoon off usually meant dinner would be especially delicious and sometimes included dessert. Today proved no exception. From the smell, Dylan guessed the oven contained his favorite: eggplant Parmesan.

  How in the hell he’d wound up loving a meatless recipe Dylan would never know. He supposed he owed Tyler for the friggin’ fantastic variety of meals Alec loved to cook, half of which contained no meat. But neither an extraordinarily crappy day nor the thought of the ex could ruin Dylan’s mood.

  Dylan tugged at his laces and toed off his boots before padding down the hallway toward the kitchen. He paused in the doorway and took in the familiar scene. Alec stood at the center island chopping vegetables for a salad, his back to Dylan. Studying Alec’s economy of movements, his efficiency in the kitchen, Dylan crossed his arms, a smile tugging at the ed
ges of his mouth.

  Used to be when Dylan looked at Alec, he saw the lean body of an academic. Then he began to appreciate the nicely formed ass and thick, dark hair great for burying fingers in during sex. Alec’s blue eyes broadcasted his every emotion—whether he was confident, babbling nervously, or completely mute— and Dylan found them totally compelling.

  He especially loved to watch Alec’s eyes as he came.

  There was no doubt the man enjoyed the sex too, but he also liked every other aspect of having a companion in his home. Alec oozed domesticity, enjoying simple activities like cooking for two or talking about his day over dinner. Despite Dylan’s protests, Alec even insisted on helping with the cleanup, preferring the company in the kitchen to relaxing in the living room alone. He always waited for Dylan to settle in front of the TV before picking up whatever reading material he chose for the evening. After years of living by himself, Dylan should have needed time to adjust.

  Odd how comfortable he felt here. Over time, his spare tools had slowly made their way to Alec’s garage. Dylan had purchased a utility bench, setting the stainless steel table up in the corner. Dylan had claimed a rack along the wall and was now well on his way to filling the shelves. Alec had made a comment about breaking the sucker in, and Dylan had rolled his eyes, secretly pleased.

  Sex with Alec defined the word awesome.

  And now Dylan could choose between that quick, sharp hit of pleasure he craved or a long, slow burn that left him dying for more until he came. The relief of release was almost as thrilling as the orgasm itself.

  Several days had passed since his confession, and Dylan felt lighter, freer, and more comfortable with Alec than he’d ever been with another person. He’d never shared that part of his past with anyone. Not even Rick.

  Dylan braced himself for the crushing pain that always followed thoughts of his friend, but today the sensation resembled more of a dull ache. The gaping hole felt smaller and less sharply defined—about bloody time after five years.

  Alec turned to reach for a red pepper and saw Dylan. “Hey. You’re home.”